Frisky Having Her Way May 2026
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
She finds the single most echoey spot in the hallway—usually right outside my bedroom door—and sings the song of her people. It is a mournful wail that translates roughly to: "I can see the bottom of my food bowl. The abyss stares back. I am wasting away to nothing but fur and spite." She just closes her eyes, trusting that the