Ziggy-Mon
Legacy Name: Ziggy-Mon

The arch of the door gives me the perfect vantage point from which to survey my domain. All seems to be in order, with my siblings pursuing their usual daily routines. Loco sharpens needle-claws on the corner chair. Jazz and Ash nap in the sun while Sam gazes longingly toward the kitchen, no doubt dreaming up elaborate schemes to break the cookie jar that hides his favorite treats. Everything is as it should be, until...

There it is again! The intruder that dares to flicker across the edge of my vision! The foul fur snake that stalks me everywhere I go. I must give chase and pin it down, show it once and for all who is leader of this family.

Mother gasps as I wheel around with a challenging hiss. It is truly amazing that humans can live with such dull senses. A mewling kitten would not fall from this height, to speak of a feline with my vast experience.

I catch the intruder with a low growl of satisfaction, pinning it with sheathed claws to let it know that it has once again been mastered. As much as I would like to give it a bite, I know the creature will send pain shooting up my back in retaliation. It is a truly devious fur snake.

Mother settles into the faded blue cushions of the couch, her soft human meows setting Jazz to purring. It is unacceptable that she should pet a youngster before giving me attention. A nimble leap brings me to the floor and a meow of command sends Jazz out of the room with a grumble. Young cats have no respect for their elders these days!

Mother gets to work on an ear-rubbing but her mind is somewhere else. A few head-buts against her furless paw gets me the hard rub that feels so good. I begin to purr, letting her know she is doing a good job. You have to reinforce humans all the time if you ever hope to keep them well-trained.

The doorbell brings an end to the lovely moment. Missy raises her head to peer out the window, long pink tongue uncurling in a yawn. "It's Litter Box Voice."

Litter Box Voice is a friend of mums. She's not nearly as good at petting as Smells of Fish but is infinitely better than Sour Milk Breath. Litter Box Voice starts talking to mother in that scratchy voice that sounds just like claws on litter. Her hand goes to work, finding the right place for rubbing right away. I leave one thin line of drool on her jeans to let her know she has interrupted a beautiful moment. For Sour Milk Breath, I swear I would be willing to cough up a hairball to get rid of him. The man smells like dog of all horrible things!

The silver box in Litter Box Voice's bag begins to yowl suddenly. The petting stops as she puts it to her ear and mews happily to a very thin voice coming out of the box. Why humans like these things against their ears, none of us can understand. If another cat tried to speak into my ear like that they'd get their ears clawed. I may not be a kitten anymore but I'm certainly not deaf.

Mum resumes where we left off, her voice taking on a purr as Jazz returns to take her place on the other side of the couch. I decide to let it go. One things humans can do well is use both their paws at once. The couch vibrates with our happy purrs.

I'm just starting to fall asleep when mum stands. My annoyance disappears when she makes for the kitchen. Sam raises his ears but cannot get to his paws in time to meet me as the smell of raw meat fills the air.

The cabinet doors all have these terrible white sticks that prevent my clever paws from finding those foods mother decides to hide. It was funny, watching her growl and stomp about when I worked my way through rubber bands and strings. No matter how many knots she tied, my agile claws and sharp teeth could undo even the best of them.

She hands me a strip of raw meat which I devour with care. My siblings are not far behind as the dishes are filled and placed in the usual order. I am the first to be fed, of course, yet Sam is always the first to finish. He looks up at the cookie jar with a hopeful meow, earning a small cookie for his unbearable cuteness. The rest of us accept our treats with slightly more dignity as Sam happily crunches his to crumbs and licks every speck from the floor.

I take up my position beside mother, reminding her whose bed this really is with a yowl of complaint when she nearly rolls over me in her sleep. She moves back with a growl of her own. It is too dark for her to see how my ears lay back so I must find another way to show my annoyance.

Sam wakes with a sleepy mew of questioning as I prod him with a paw. "Mum has disrespected the hierarchy of the nest, Sam. It is time for your trick."

Sam leaps up, alert and eager to show his love for his leader. He dashes to the wardrobe door, hooking a paw around the bottom edge and giving it a good rattle as I look on proudly. Mother sits up with a yowl that sends Sam scurrying across the room, his paws sending him stumbling over Loco's tale. The defender of the family comes awake with a yowl of his own and gives Sam a swat for good measure, complaining that I put the youngster up to mischief and will get us all thrown to the streets. Typical Loco. Always a grouch in the morning. A commanding meow reminds him that his fighting skills would not exist if not for my teaching.

Mother stumbles her way to the kitchen, making the smelly brown liquid that always puts her in a better mood. Our breakfast is soon in coming. Mother sits down to a bowl of the disgusting grain mush she calls cereal. Its only redeeming quality is the milk she pours on though the smell is not nearly as intriguing as meat. No smell compares to the rich aroma of meat.

I stalk to the couch, leading the family as always. I am sure mum is prepared to make up for yesterday's interruption and take my place on the couch.

Mum has something in her hand. What is it? It does not smell like food or the leavings of the litter box. Must be a human thing. I'm ready to simply ignore it as irrelevant until...

The light! The dreaded light that zips across the floor and will not bow to the majesty of my paws! I must catch it, pin it down, dominate that aggravating point of red. Get out of the way Ash, you furry lump! Can't you see that your leader must protect the family? Aha! There it is, hovering on the wall. My paws reach up, up further, closing on the dot only to have it stain my fur red. I place one paw atop the other, yowling my triumph.

Just as suddenly the light is gone as mother howls with laughter. I am desolate at the loss of my prey, but at least I know where to go for a good ear rub.