We have been cat-sitting for our upstairs neighbors. One of their cats is a very aloof lady, and the other is a rambunctious young man.
This cat, Billy, has some kind of neurological damage, not unlike Robb's. He is healthy and spry, and curious about everything, but he doesn't have much control over his hind feet. Billy seems utterly unaware of the fact that he has any kind of "disability." He's a normal cat, who just happens to drag his feet around when he walks.
Robb and I live in an apartment building that was built in the 1920's. The walls are stout -- still standing despite all those earthquakes -- but sound passes very easily between the floors and the ceilings. Our previous neighbor used to apologize constantly for all of his chronic asthmatic coughing. I never could convince him that we weren't such manner-less churls as to blame him being noisy as he struggled to breathe.
We occasionally hear our neighbors playing their piano, which is nice.
But what I really love is the bompity-bompity-bomp sound of their funny kitty, Billy, racing across the hardwood floors. Whenever I hear that, it puts the hugest smile on my face.