Is it you, is it your significant other, is it the children or is it a pet?

It seems to me that I have never been boss in my own home.

First it was being a child, I did as I was told, most of the time. Then when I shared a house with three others we were equals. Next came a bedsit in someone else's house, well no being boss there then. Marriage, and he called the shots. Separation and I was at the beck and call of the children, their needs coming first regardless of my own needs.

Now they have flown the nest so living alone I am my own boss, right? Wrong, the blasted cat rules the roost. I cannot go away without arranging it with him (or at least someone to mind him or feed him), I cannot even sit here at the computer without him standing at my side 'shouting' at me, he wants me to go and sit in front of the television so that he can sit on my lap. Even staying in bed late in the morning will get me a good 'telling off' when I finally surface.

So who calls the shots in your home?

I'm not really sure, but it might be me. I would say that my husband and I are equally invested in bossing, but he defers to me on almost all those trivial issues, like what to have for dinner and such, and it can be a real headache sometimes. What do you want for dinner? I don't care. I don't care either, choose something. I don't know. Bah.

Some people have told me that I am, but I'm not sure. I kind of doubt that.

Me, for better or worse.

I don't know that there is a clear-cut boss in our house. Each of us seems to have our own area of operations over which we reign.
If I had to pick one over-all ruler, it would probably be the cat. She doesn't really care much about what the rest of us want, and can be pretty bossy from time to time.

Floyd

He's the one on the right. The one on the left is Jimmy, he's just there to illustrate how low Mr Floyd had to sink for company one night when Daddy actually dared to leave the house without him. It's sad but true, it all revolves around the little fella who won't wear pants ...but he is nice enough to let us sleep in his bed.

Well, technically it should be me, but, just like Sue, it's the cat who really rules the place. She never listens to me, expects me to pay all of my attention to her, and anytime I do get after her about something, it never fazes her! But I love her anyway!

The 4 cats followed by the 2 dogs.

It's a close race between the Urban Terrorist (16 y.o.) and the 2 dogs. But then, I do get some kudos as the sole food-provider....

So how the heck did it come to pass that we 'superior' beings permit 'dumb' animals to rule the roost?

When I lived with Scottie dogs, they ruled the house, too. The dog doesn't rule in our house. Much as we love her (and she IS the sweetest, bestest doggie in the whole wide world /babytalk) she's too large a dog, and we have too small a child to allow any leeway in her training and submission. When you've got an 8mo rottie/sheperd puppy and a 3 year old who weighs half as much, you just can't relax your authority. Mina is such a good dog, very obedient, but she's still a puppy, and she gets playful and forgets herself, and when she does that, she can knock Katherine right over and step on her. No, Mina does not rule the house.

As odd as it may sound, it isn't me or even my two daughters who rule the roost here at the end of this quiet street. It is the creature you see to your immediate left who calls [ even if unwittingly] all the shots.
This 14 pounder is of a contemporary breed created in California known as 'Ragdoll.' He has bright blue eyes, and a perpetually vacant expression [ known in these parts as 'porch light's on...but nobody's home...'] He is officially my youngest daughter's cat, and because he is completely posable and without guile, she often wears him as an accessory. He never seems to mind, and can be situated without trauma into various tea party settings, complete with hat. He follows her from room to room, waiting for her outside the bathroom door. I've had dogs in the past who were not nearly as friendly or eager to please.
I guess he's the beloved perfect dog we never had - but without the midnight walks and barking!

I'm definitely the boss in my house, because there's only me (no cat to boss me around any more).

So, in the morning after breakfast, I say to myself in the most authoritarian tones: "You're going to dust and vacuum this place this morning, and this afternoon you're going to get down to cleaning the kitchen!"

But, being the boss, I sneer back at myself "Get lost! I'll do it when I'm good and ready!" and pour myself another cup of coffee. it's rather nice being your own boss.