It's been a while since anybody crawled into bed with me. Just my luck, tonight it happened to be a furry feline intruder.Frisky, or Friskers by my own term of endearment, is named appropriately for her liveliness. Apart from the 16 hours a day she spends asleep, she exhibits spurts of "friskiness" charachterized by energetic hissing and aggressive clawing. Often these episodes are triggered by a friendly pet of the collar or a gentle tug at a mat of fur.
I am house-sitting for a friend this month and Frisky came with the package. Initially she expressed her distaste for me by vomiting hairballs at the front door and just narrowly missing the litter box. After the second week of cohabiting her home on Gladstone, or Happyrock as it has been otherwise pegged, Frisky's feelings have taken an affectionate turn.
It might have been the tuna we shared for dinner, or the extra milk I left in her dish the other morning. Perhaps it was the hairball I trimmed from her back side. But I am no longer treated as an impostor of Frisky's domain. Then again, she might have left me cramped in a fetal ball on the upper half of the bed tonight as a signal that she has expanded her territory.
Now who is really the intruder?
