My relationship with my cat is less that of pet and owner than it is hostage-taker and hostage. Four-year-old Vlada spends every night sleeping peacefully in my arms like a teddy bear. Then, too soon after dawn, her demeanor abruptly changes: She bites my hands, legs, and neck, and meows in my face with a force that can only be described as belligerent. "Stop shouting at me," I tell her. After I have dutifully dispensed her morning tin of Applaws, Vlada is appeased.

The urge to converse with animals is age-old, long predating the time when smartphones became our best friends. Scientists have taught sign language to great apes, chatted with grey parrots and even tried to teach English to bottlenose dolphins. Pets -- with which we share our homes but not a common language -- are particularly tempting targets. My TikTok feed brims with videos of Bunny, a sheepadoodle who has learned to press sound buttons that play prerecorded phrases like "outside," "scritches" and "love you." MeowTalk is the product of a growing interest in enlisting additional intelligences -- machine-learning algorithms -- to decode animal communication.