I want to be the boss.

Ok in my house I am the adult human person therefore I should be the boss.  I pay the rent, clean the house, work in the garden, pick what I want to watch on the television.  I also know how to work a computer and how to programme the video.  Ok that is silly I don't have a video any more.  I know how to cook and to feed myself.  To the outside world I am a functioning being but in the solitude of my home I am the downtrodden person at the bottom of the totem pole.  How can this be I hear you ask.  Well let me tell you my sad story.  There are two other creatures living in the house and living like a king and queen I can tell you.  The Queen of the establishment is Gracie.  She is a British Blue cross breed cat.  She has definite ideas of exactly what food I have to prepare for her.  She only likes things with a sauce, so I am safe from retribution if I serve her Dine turkey in gravy, or any Fancy Feast that has fillet after the ingredient.  She sleeps exactly where she wants and has a perfectly lovely leather lounge chair as her scatch post.  It was pristine when I brought it home and she loved it straight away.  She has magnanimously let me have two chairs that she does not deign to scratch.  She is very subtle so when she wants to go outside she runs up the screen doors.  If I stupidly ignore her door climbing she comes over to me and stretches up and stick her claws into my leg.  This is another one of her "subtle" hints. Her partner in crime is a poor little old poodle called Herbie whom she torments.  He is a dear little man and is eleven years old.  He also finds it easy to organize me.  If I go out and don't come home in his idea of a suitable time he leaves a little parcel or two on the kitchen floor and a flowing river for me to mop up.  He is a little harder to understand so sometimes he gets so frustrated I do not notice his communication so is reduced to whining at me.  I am fine taking him outside but he is not always fine at actually doing something.  He does like me to go out with him and wait in the freezing cold for him to toilette himself.  I don't know why I have to witness (or not) his activities but I do.  It must be written in some doggie rules somewhere.  He is so deaf now that I can step over him and he doesn't wake up.  Of course Herbie sleeps in my bed.  The cat sleeps in my bed.  The only one who doesn't sleep in my bed is me.  There is no room as for the moment I have been reducted to sleeping in a single bed, and single beds and three creatures do not make for a comfortable night.  Before that cat comes to spend an hour or two on my bed she investigates the house and flicks anything left on the surfaces onto the floor.  Mostly she does it to me just as I am dozing off so I think that there is a burglar in the house.  This means that I have to get up to check all the doors and windows.  She really is like water torture, she just goes on and on and on.  Don't get me wrong I seem to like to be bossed around and am very happy with my companions, but sometimes I just wish I could be the top of the totem pole.  Is that ever going to happen, I think not.