Billy appears to have figured out how the dryer works. More precisely, he appears to have figured out the correlation between "dryer stopped running" and "warm fresh laundry available."
He was meowing mournfully downstairs this afternoon. Sometimes, that means he wants me to work in the living room so that he can curl up on the sofa with me. So I took a pad of paper and the article I was working on, and took them downstairs.
Nope, still sad. Inconsolable, even. Maybe there's a problem with the litter box? No, I checked and it was fine, but while I was in the laundry room -- where the litter box sits -- Billy pranced around in front of the dryer, Happy Tail held high. I'd run a load a little earlier that must have finished within the last 30 minutes or so.
So I unloaded the clothes into a basket. Billy climbed in, happily rode in the basket to the foot of the stairs, and promptly fell asleep. He was still there when I left, three hours later.
This is the cat who shoves objects off my office table when he wants to play, and who figured out how to disassemble a water fountain. I guess I shouldn't be surprised...