Howling at the dawn

Our cat Frik woke us up at the crack of dawn this morning (which in the northwest is pretty early at this time of year.) He was howling. Long and loud. He put heart and soul into it too. Gave it his all, he did.

Now Frik has a voice only a mother could love. It is low and harsh and a little gravelly. He produces sound from the very back of his head somehow, making it round and full and well-projected. And when he puts that much effort behind it, he can really deliver the goods. The 'delivery' lasted an impressively long time. Over and over he howled. It echoed in the hallway. It rang in the rafters.

Well, we woke up alright. If that was the desired response - mission accomplished. Mark leaped out of bed - at once armed and ready.

Of course figuring out what the problem was proved difficult. What Frik has in volume he lacks in specificity. He just sat there, wide-eyed, and looked at us. His location proved the only clue: he was sitting right in the doorway to the laundry. The litter box is in the laundry.

He was announcing that he was going potty.