Just like every other human being on this earth, I love to complain about weather inconveniencing my life, even if it's not actually happening. For example, the ice storm over the past weekend was an excellent thing to complain about (I mean, ugh, ice? On the ground? And on my car? That I have to scrape off? Unbelievable!), but in reality, I completely thrive on having guilt-free excuses to not leave my house for several days.

While I was able to lounge on the couch for hours on end, eat nothing but Buffalo Chicken Dip, and catch up on all the shows I'm behind on (just kidding, I watched my favorite episodes of Bob's Burgers and a lot of SVU reruns), my cat was not at all happy with the weather circumstances. (Yeah, that's right. This article is gonna be about my cat, so prepare yourselves accordingly.)

Even though he looks perpetually stoned and has trouble staying awake for longer than 30 seconds, my cat is probably feline Bear Grylls (Cat Grylls? Sorry.). At least, that's what I assume since he literally should not be able to survive out there in the wilderness (read: suburbia) but always manages to come home for some Meow Mix at the end of the day. He also gets really fussy when he can't go outside. Like, he complains more vocally than any infant I have encountered when he realizes we are not going to let him out into inclement weather where he would most certainly perish.

Of course, I understand that he has no way of understanding why we couldn't let him out during this massive ice storm, he is a cat after all and even if he could understand English, I doubt he'd actually care about anything we ever tried to tell him. It does seem a bit ridiculous though that I could spend so much time articulating just how quickly he would freeze to death if I let him out, just to be screamed at every two minutes when he doesn't get his way.

Some positives did arise from our long weekend trapped together in the house, though. I am now a true expert in deciphering my cat's various noises. I wish that he would have put in the same effort to decipher mine, but--as it is the nature of the animal--he wouldn't care to spend that kind of time on me. Anyway, I have compiled a list (mainly because it makes me feel like some kind of nature observation expert), so maybe this will help you all understand what your cat is trying to say when they start getting vocal.

1. The Whine

This sound is a staple of my cat's vocabulary. It means, "What is wrong with you? You can clearly see that I am not being serviced in the way I expect and yet you do nothing about it. I have no choice now but to unleash this concerning noise that makes it sound like I'm wounded and force you to come tend to my whims immediately."

2. The Mega-Whine

This sound is similar to the last one but increases exponentially in volume, intensity, and severity. This is when he is ultra-peeved at me, mainly when I open the door for him to experience the cold and ice on his little paws and he decides the weather is my fault. The worst part is that sometimes the Mega-Whine makes me feel so guilty that I actually forget I can't control weather patterns.

3. The Disgruntled Rumble

This one is one of the most frequently used noises because it has many possible uses. Mainly my cat likes to use it when he has been woken up against his will. Whether that be because my sister's kitten has decided it's Fight Time, because I wanted to lay about two inches away from his little face and I breathed on him too hard, or because he's accidentally woken himself up with a yawn (see #5).

4. The Hiss

This one is typically only used in response to the kitten when he realizes that he is a tired old fart who doesn't have it in him to deal with another round of tussling with a child. I relate a lot to this noise and wish it was one of those things I could do when I have become weary of life and it's nonsense.

5. The Vibrating Yawn

This doesn't really make a lot of sense, but I don't know what to call it. It's not a normal yawn. I can't even really explain what kind of yawn it is except that it makes his entire body vibrate like the massage chairs at Brookstone. It's like he's powering up and the very force of it starts at his core and waves through his limbs like an electric current. The more I think about how weird this is, the more convinced I am that cats are robots. Or at least mine is.

6. The Sneeze

The sneeze is perhaps the most precious of all feline noises, probably because it reminds me that cats aren't robots. Or at least mine isn't. He also does this little snuffling thing right after sneezing that melts my heart like nothing else on this hellish planet. I don't think it's too dramatic to assume that every time a cat sneezes, an angel gets it's wings. Or something like that.