We have three cats. Cheshire, George and Sunny.
We were talking about what they would say if they could talk. We decided that Cheshire refers to us as “bitch” and “bastard,” as in “Fill my food bowl, bastard.” George… well, George has the mouth of a sailor. “George,” we’d say. “Fuck you” would be the response. Sunny, being the kitten (8 months old) is more of a “whatchya doin guys? huh? huh? whatchya doin’? can I come? wanna play? ” at which point George would swat at her and say “Fuck off.”
Cheshire also wouldn’t refer to the other cats by name – they would be “the other one” (George) and “the little thing” (Sunny).