Having Her Way - Frisky

She has been knocking pens off counters ever since. And pillows off couches. And plants off shelves. And, last week, my entire carefully folded pile of laundry onto the dusty floor.

She just closes her eyes, trusting that the world—and her human—will continue to bend to her will.

She didn't want the food. She just wanted me to get up . Frisky having her way

Having her way extends to the witching hour. Between 2:45 and 3:15 AM, Frisky transforms from a lazy lap-warmer into a soprano performing a one-cat opera about The Great Hunger.

The first major negotiation happened regarding the living room sectional. I prefer the left corner. It has the perfect sightline to the television and the window. Frisky, however, prefers the left corner while I am sitting in it . She has been knocking pens off counters ever since

When I adopted Frisky—a tortoiseshell cat with the eyes of a disgruntled Victorian orphan and the attitude of a rockstar trashing a hotel room—I thought I was doing a noble thing. "I will give her a loving home," I told the shelter volunteer. "I will provide structure, discipline, and warmth."

Frisky looked at me, blinked slowly (the universal cat sign for "bless your heart"), and immediately knocked a pen off the counter. And, last week, my entire carefully folded pile

Does your pet rule the roost? Tell me your "Frisky" stories in the comments below.