By far, the most common issue my clients ask me to address is when their animal companions are urinating or defecating in the “wrong” place. There’s always a lot of stress connected with this issue; Fluffy’s behavior may be destroying walls, floors, and furniture, not to mention her human companion’s patience and understanding.

I’ll be honest. This issue is one of the most challenging for me as an animal communicator. Barring actual physical illness (the first step I recommend for anyone facing this problem is to get your companion into the veterinarian to test for infections, blockages, food sensitivities, arthritis, etcetera), the reasons behind this problem can be multiple and complex. These can include issues with the litter box or a designated potty place, problems created by previous owners, or reactions to changes or stress within the current household. (Sometimes it’s all of the above, all at the same time.) It becomes a knotted web of emotions to slowly pick apart, and all the while, the human companion feels (rightly) more and more out of control and frustrated when coming home to another smelly mess.

So what can I say here to shine a little light on this problem? Perhaps my own experiences are the best I can offer as I currently have two cats who can be unreliable in their own urination habits.

Chester is an 11 year-old, 15-pound, orange tabby. He’s huge and sweet and the feline “Buddha” of my house. He also has a sensitive bladder. Chester had a bladder infection when he was a young, outdoor cat, before he was rescued and adopted. He has a strong memory of the fear and pain that accompanied that infection. Now when he gets stressed, he associates it with that past pain and feels it in his bladder, so he urinates outside the box. Fortunately it’s not a regular event—and has lessened as he’s aged—but sometimes I’ll come home after a trip and his pet sitter will tell me she found urine near the bathtub, which is his prime place to mark if he’s upset. (When Chester’s feline buddy Jingle passed away a year ago, I found urine around the tub regularly for about three months). I’m lucky that this choice causes no damage and is easily cleaned up, but sometimes I’m still surprised by it.

Penelope is a new addition to the household. She’s a burly, black-and-white two year-old, who spent her first year as an alley cat. She moved into the house over a year ago, and has absolutely no interest in revisiting an outdoor lifestyle. She’s a faithful user of the multiple litter boxes in the house, but sometimes she urinates on the floor, either right next to the litter box or near the front door. Her urination is not marking like Chester’s. It’s full-on voiding her bladder. She’s not straining to go and she doesn’t have any medical issues that would cause this. It’s not constant, thankfully, but it’s often enough that I decided to monitor both her behavior and how I and the other animals in the house may be helping or hindering it.

I realized quickly that Penelope wasn’t getting the exercise and attention she needed. She’s a baby in a house full of adult cats (everyone else is between 11 and 13). She’s good at initiating play but sometimes the adults’ form of play (especially Chester’s) is intimidating to her and she retreats. Instead she’ll ask me to play with her. We now have a nighttime ritual of playing and brushing, but  if my schedule changes, and we go for too many nights without my engagement, she suddenly urinates on the floor. There’s simply no other place for all of that kitten energy to go. So my solution thus far has been to strive for consistency in Penelope’s play, to make sure she’s getting at least 5-10 minutes of exercise and my undivided attention every night, and that seems to make a difference in her litter box habits.

Chester’s marking is just as easy to understand and yet getting to the solution has been more elusive. When animals mark in “undesirable” places, they’re responding in a purely instinctual manner. Defecation and urination are essential bodily functions. The bladder holds waste until it’s full and ready to release it. It is a symbol of letting go of things that no longer serve us, of being in flow. When something in the animal’s home is out of balance, his instinct is to control what he can in order to feel secure. The most instinctual way to control is to mark, to place his smell on something, since smell dictates everything in the animal world.

When Chester marks against the bathtub, he’s saying, “My routine has drastically changed—the person I rely upon has been gone for too long—and I’m not sure my needs will be met. I need to control this situation in some way now.” Except there’s no “thought” here. There’s no “I’ll show her” kind of retaliation in Chester’s marking; it’s purely instinctual. It demonstrates the lack of flow and balance that Chester is feeling about my absence in that moment. When Chester marks, he’s able to release that fear energy and control his space at the same time. He brings everything back into balance for a little while.

When animals are consistently urinating or defecating in the “wrong” place, and you’ve ruled out physical illness, you may then take a moment to survey how they view their surroundings and consider what feels out of balance for them. Are there new people or animals in the house? Are there new neighbor dogs who could be bothering your dog when he’s in his yard? Has your cat come from a rescue situation and is still responding to past fear?

How can you help them feel safer? Perhaps by moving the litter box to a low-traffic area and making sure it’s cleaned every day? Or by taking your dog on regular short walks—taking the time to connect with him and giving him a less confrontational place to eliminate? The Beech, Cherry Plum, and Willow remedies by Bach Flower Remedies can also support your animal companion in changing these behaviors.

Additionally, think about any upheaval, stress, or change in your own life. If you or others in your household are feeling unsettled or upset—out of flow—chances are your animal is feeling your stress as well. He or she is then instinctually trying to rebalance things, to release that stress in the only way he or she can. Of course it can be doubly difficult, when your dog is suddenly leaving you surprises on the bathroom floor, to feel in the flow, but this is exactly the time to try.

Allow your animal to be the mirror for your current situation. What are you trying to control or force in your life? Is there something you’re holding onto that’s causing you more pain or stress? How can you begin to gently let go of the things that cause an emotional or energetic imbalance? Sometimes just recognizing what is not working in our own lives, and taking small steps to remedy that, can have a huge impact on the emotional health of our animals.

Most importantly, do what you can to stop worrying about what’s happening when you’re not home. Animals communicate in images and every time you think about that bathroom rug, your dog does too. She actually sees the image in your mind’s eye of her peeing on that rug. She feels your anxious energy and it’s just like you’re “telling” her to do it. As soon as you feel yourself worrying about what could be happening, stop. Instead take a deep breath and visualize walking with your dog. Visualize her urinating outside, in a specific place. Feel yourself relax with this visualization. Feel your dog relax as she walks along happily beside you. The more you can do this, the more your companion can see what it is you want her to do. Combine this with any necessary adjustments in the household and results are sure to follow.

My solution for Chester’s urination outside the box is to keep him in the loop when my schedule is going to change. If I’m going out of town, I begin to visualize for a few minutes a day, about a week ahead of time, where I'm going, what I’ll be doing, who will be taking care of him, and how long I’ll be gone. I don’t spend too much time on it—just enough to show him the plan. Then while I’m on the trip, I take a few minutes each night to consciously think about Chester and the rest of the cats. I visualize them playing, using their litter boxes, and reclining happily in their (my) bed. I visualize my homecoming for Chester, so he knows I’m not gone for good.

As the self-appointed caretaker of everyone, Chester then feels like he can relax. He may not love that I’m gone, but he also doesn’t feel stressed about the possibility of me not coming back. This eases his instinct to control his surroundings and, consequently, has eliminated my worry about coming home to a surprise.