My first roommate was a woman named Susan who had a big black cat named Tarby (short for Tar Baby). Tarby wasn’t the sweetest cat, nor was she much trouble. I hardly saw her around the apartment.
One day, I sat down on the bed and was talking with Susan. I didn’t notice anything unusual about the bed, but after a few minutes, it began to shake a little bit, right under where I was sitting.
Tarby had crawled under the covers and I didn’t notice her there and when I sat, I sat on the cat. Evidently, I was on her face and she couldn’t get her mouth open. Instead of Meow, I heard a very loud “NO NO NO NO NO NO NO” coming from under the covers.
When I finally got up and pulled back the covers, she staggered out of the bed, reeled around a bit and then she seemed ok. Poor kitty. I felt terrible about it, but she was none the worse for wear. And we found out that if she could say anything, she used the right words!