Imaginary Conversation I Will Never Actually Have With My Downstairs Neighbor

Me (possibly taking out my trash): Hey, how's it going?
The Old Lady Downstairs: Oh hello! Wonderful weather we're having!
Me: Yes, it is.
The OLD: Sometimes when it gets warmer like this you need to take the trash out more often.
Me: Yes, I believe you're right. You know, I've been thinking. Sometimes I play my violin, or even just my stereo, and I think too myself, 'Wow, I hope this music isn't bothering anyone else. I would hate it if I found out I was in anyway irritating those who lived around me.' I think that. You know what I mean?
The OLD: Oh don't worry, I love when you play the violin. You play beautifully.
Me (perhaps blushing a little bit): Oh well, thank you.
The OLD: And don't worry, I don't think I've ever heard your stereo.
Me: Well, good. That's a load off of my mind. (Frustrated, I start to walk to the dumpster, but stop and turn back.) Can I ask you something ma'am?
The OLD: Well I don't see why not. (Smiles toothily.)
Me: Who is Rusty?
The OLD: Rusty? Rusty is one of my cats.
Me: That's kind of what I thought. I know you have a few cats.
The OLD: Well they aren't all mine. A few of them are strays.
Me: But you feed them all, and you love them, I can tell.
The OLD: Oh yes. (Smiles again, extra toothily.)
Me: Perhaps you don't get out much, don't know many people, and these cats fill some of that void for you.
The OLD: I guess you could say that.
Me: Can I ask, why is it that at 6 or 7 am every morning you come out your door and yell at the top of your lungs, "RUUUUSTY! RUUUUSSSSTY!!" What is that?
The OLD: Well, I wake up around 5:30 every morning, and I like to make some coffee, and then have breakfast with my kittees. I pour a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, and I put dry food out for the cats. And a lot of times Rusty is off chasing a squirrel, or birdy, or maybe hiding in a sewer grate, so I have to yell RUUUUUSSTY! so he can know it's breakfast time.
Me: And why do you yell to him again at around 11:30 pm every night?
The OLD (beams): Well, I like to hug him goodnight before I go to bed.
Me: Okay. Well awesome, you've answered all my questions now. I guess I'll take my trash out. Thanks.
(I head to the dumpster, smiling awkwardly at the neighbor when I come back. Even in a fantasy like this I don't seem able to tell a nice old lady to be more considerate and to please refrain from yelling to her cat early in the morning. )