Funny and true story:
When my brother, Robbie Rat, was about 5 or 6 years of age we had a cat named Peanut. She was our friend. We loved on her, dressed her up, cut her whiskers off numerous times, picked her up by her tail and other fun loving family activities. Typical kid stuff. She tolerated us to a point, then she would attack and run away. We absolutely loved to make her meow. It was the little things that entertained us. Simple folk, we were. When we wanted her to meow, we would squeeze her in the fattest part of her middle until she made this hilarously funny meowing sound. It was like kitty constipation noises. We thought it was pretty damn funny, so we did this often. And before all you animal activists get your panties all in a wad...we didn't hurt her...she liked it. She was a closet sadist. So, deal, ok? So, we'd squeeze and laugh and laugh and squeeze. The sound, if you can imagine it, sounded like, "Uuuuhhhmmmmmmaaaaarrrrrrowwwwwwwwww." Kind of like the sound of a cat makes late at night when talking politics with the neighbor cats and things get heated.
My Aunt had just had her first baby boy, Allen. He was only a couple of weeks old and one night my dear brother was talking to her on the phone about the new baby. Robbie Rat was insistent on hearing the baby talk. My Aunt kept telling him that he was sleeping, but that he would make noises for him over the phone later. This answer wasn't good enough for the rat. He was an expert at extracting noises from creatures that otherwise did not want to make noise. He promptly told her, "Just squeeze him really hard and then he will talk, I promise!"
I will have you know that Robbie is now studying to become a Vet. I bet he squeezes all those cats when no one is looking though.