a Yowler

This is Simba, my parents' cat (he was already called that when they adopted him from Battersea Cats' Home, I should point out).  In human years, he's probably older than they are, and they are 94 and 95.  He is, in other words, a little frail and wobbly - and he yowls.  He yowls - heart-rending yowls, channeling his inner Siamese - roughly every twenty minutes, all through the night.  I've tried suggesting, gently, that they might want to consult a vet; that he might have a thyroid problem; that he might have rheumatism; that he might have some hidden trouble (I should say - he doesn't actually seem to be in physical pain, or I'd take action.  But).  "Ah," says my mother, vaguely, "he just wonders where we are."  Well, maybe.  But he's not conducive to sleep (oh, and - they take their hearing aids off at night ...).