Baby Monitor or Kitty Monitor?

We are cat sitting for Miss Kitty, who belongs to my friend, Karen. Karen is suffering for Jesus in Europe. This is the first time we've taken care of Miss Kitty since Jackson was born. It's been interesting.

Miss Kitty is a lover. She wants to be with on us 24/7. But that's impossible with a baby. As with many cats, Miss Kitty is nosy. She gets into everything. We don't want her in our bedroom or the nursery, so we keep the doors closed. When we're sleeping or not home, we put Miss Kitty in the guest room and close the door. She can't get into much trouble in that room. More importantly, it keeps her from sharpening her claws on our leather furniture! Unfortunately, Miss Kitty doesn't like closed doors. And she certainly doesn't like being locked up behind a closed door.

When Miss Kitty arrived Thursday evening, we introduced her to Jackson. She sniffed him, and then curled up and went to sleep. That quickly ended our anxiety. Clearly having Miss Kitty around Jackson wasn't going to be a problem.

As we prepared for bed, we closed Miss Kitty up in the guest room with her food and litter box.  We put Jack to bed, turned on the baby monitor, and left his nursery door open so we could hear him. Not long after we turned the lights out, I thought I heard Jackson crying. I looked over at the baby monitor. Sure enough, the lights where blinking, which indicates the baby is making noise. I turned on the monitor's video screen, and there was Jackson, sound asleep in his crib. I looked back at the indicator lights... lit up like a Christmas tree.  Whaaat???  That's when I realized Miss Kitty was howling so loud in the guest room that the baby monitor picked up the sound in the nursery!

All night long, I woke to the sound of Jackson crying. I repeated the routine: Look at the baby monitor. Lights blaring. Turn on video screen. Jackson sound asleep. Dumb cat!

Finally, Jackson woke up to eat. As I sat in the living room nursing him, Miss Kitty started in with a pitiful protest. Meoooow!  Obviously she heard me moving around, and that really set her off.  Meoooow!  Not a pleasant sound at 5 a.m.

John says my affection for Taco has dwindled since Jackson was born. It's not that I don't love Taco. I do. It's just that it takes every ounce of my energy to care for Jackson. Taco is just one more being who depends on me for everything. But Taco is such a great dog, she has been patient and sweet despite playing second fiddle. Miss Kitty, on the other hand, is very vocal about her dislike for playing third fiddle. The neighbors probably think we're torturing the poor cat.