Even if there isn’t someone in the vicinity – and there usually is, and it’s usually some guy dismantling the engine of his car down to individual molecules or something – you still feel the sting of it. Try it sometime. Try to call a cat in a manly way. “Awright you cats, get in here!” Nothing. “Cut the shit, it’s chow time! Let’s haul some cat ass!” Nothing. Maybe the cat’s staring at you, knowing. Waiting.
You try the right words, but in a masculine register: “Here, kitty. Kitty. Kitty.” Oh yeah, that works. And slowly it degrades until you’ve got the syrupy falsetto, singing, “Heeeeeeere kiddykiddykiddykiddy!” And then, and only then, does it possibly ploink ploink ploink in.
People say cats can’t smirk or smile, but those people have never had a cat.