Fighting a Losing Battle

We have been locked in a battle with our cat, Griffin, since the day we brought our son home from the hospital. It’s unclear, at this point, who is winning, although I suspect it isn’t us. Griffin has always been a “talker”. Yes, occasionally it was too much, but not very often. And he would run to greet me at the door when I got home from work and then snuggle up next to me on the couch while I read in the evenings. He loved his tummy rubbed and would chirp his happiness. So what if he occasionally became anxious about a change to his schedule and would lick a bald spot on the inside of one of his back legs. I would regal co-workers with tales of my neurotic cat. They would chuckle and I would shake my head in mock aggravation. Then, we had a baby…and taking an immediate, and permanent, back-seat to a squalling lump of swaddling blankets did not sit well with Griffin. His meows turned up a notch, then another, and another until we found ourselves whisper yelling at him to “SHUT UP” while Deacon napped. We kept telling ourselves he would adjust. People, it’s 21 months later and nothing has changed. I think we need to face the facts, it’s not going to. But, I’m not willing to give him up yet. He’s such a good cat underneath all that loud, terribly annoying, incessant meowing during bedtime and naptime. So, here we are still engaged in battle. This morning, I lost. Our house is very small. We have two bedrooms and one bathroom and our bathroom is located between the two bedrooms. I have to get up pretty early for work and Deacon is still sleeping. I also have hair that requires blow-drying. I can’t do this in the bathroom without waking Deacon up. So, since I went back to work when Deacon was three months old, I have been doing my hair in our laundry room (the farthest room from his bedroom). My hair-care products have been moved there, along with my blow-dryer and curling iron and a mirror that I prop up on the clothes dryer. Sure, the light in there isn’t great, but I’ve adapted. Unfortunately, the cat’s litter box is also in there and Griffin won’t use it if someone is in the laundry room. Instead, he’ll sit at the doorway meowing until you leave. In the interest of keeping my child sleeping, I always vacate and let him do his business. It works out. But the last couple days, his meowing has been out of control and I’m sorry to admit he’s been spritzed with the water bottle a lot. I think he’s been harboring resentment. This morning, he waltzed in there and took his sweet time to drop a load and then, barely covered it, leaving noxious fumes floating all around where I needed to be to finish doing my hair. Round #1,782 goes to the cat.