When I was a teenager, our cats used to hold protest meetings, in the middle of the drive, if we were away for too long.
My parents never put in a cat flap, so if we were out for the day, the cats had to be outside (not something I would do - but no-one argues with my mum). We lived down a track from the road, and somehow, whenever we got home, one, or other or both of the cats would be sitting in the middle of the drive, refusing to move, so we had to get out and carry them down to the house, so dad could drive the car down.
When I was pregnant, our two cats decided I couldn’t be trusted to go to the loo on my own - they’d follow me up, and come into the bathroom with me, and sit opposite the loo, watching me carefully, then escort me downstairs again.
If I ever managed to get upstairs without them noticing, they’d panic and dash upstairs - you could almost hear them bickering about whose job it had been to keep an eye on me!
When I had ds2 and ds3, they clearly decided I had proved myself trustworthy with ds1, and I was allowed to go to the bathroom on my own!