Yesterday, I telephoned our trusted auto mechanic to find out if he installed auto alarms. He doesn't, but he recommended a nearby place to have it done. I took the Camry down and discovered that they're really busy with youthful male customers. I'm a Q-Tip grandmother.
A great deal of their business seems to come from installing, or upgrading, those booming-bass stereo systems that come disguised as a car. They did a good job for us at less than half the cost of what the dealership wanted for an alarm. This morning, I have to take our car back. Evidently, just thinking about opening a door seems to set off the alarm.
It's a five-minute-job to lower the alarm's sensitivity level, they tell me.
The Camry is probably more alert than our cat is, right now.