The Lestrade household, including the cats, were at their wits' end.
Bailey had decided to start screaming, every evening, like clockwork.
Nothing they did seemed to appease her, until one night…
"Oh, she's incessant," Barnaby conveyed to Toby. "My sensitive sensitive ears… HOW do you put up with it, Tobes?"
Toby opened his eyes and raised his head, gazing serenely at his younger co-housecat. "I pretend she's you talking to me, and she becomes astoundingly easy to ignore, after that." Toby yawned widely.
Barnaby, rather than reply to this directly, simply went over to Toby, proceeding to sit on his head, rolling over and initiating a small wrestling match.
"Oomph. Bloody Git. I wasn't SERIOUS," Toby protested, extricating himself. "There IS a trick, though," he said, as he casually washed his front paws, nibbling on his claws to clean them.
"What trick is that, you old fart?" Barnaby huffed. "And why have you taken so long to appease this incessant racket every night?"
"Hold my catnip and watch this," Toby said, with a flicking of his whiskers. Barnaby watched the older tomcat as he strolled into the nursery, jumped into the cot, and curled up next to Bailey. Toby began to purr loudly, reaching out to soft paw the girl's face, patting her gently. Bailey's discontent suddenly ceased, to Barnaby's bafflement.