I'm Number One

I’m Zipper Strout, Call me Zip for short. I’ve been here the longest so I should have blogged first. Growing old really sucks. My hips don’t work like they should and I can’t see like I used to. I don’t think my hearing is as keen either. The only thing that still works is my voice. When I yowl, everybody’s hair rises on their necks. My Dad, who used to love me to death, now yells at me and squirts me with water if I talk to much. He says it hurts his ears.

It takes all my energy to maintain the No. 1 status in the house. I don’t worry about Hunter. He wouldn’t know what to do if he had to be the head honcho. But Percy and the other cat are starting to test me now. I’ll hang on as long as I can.

Oh, the stories I could tell you of my youth. Damn good thing cats have nine lives. One night back in my prime, I was outside prowling at midnight when this huge black thing lumbered across the grass. The other cat flattened herself to the ground and watched. Not me. I’m an Alpha cat who takes command so I charged this giant monster and landed on its back, wrapping my front legs around it’s chest so it couldn’t get away. YEEOW. Hundreds of needles sank into my face and chest. Somehow instinct guided me home. I scrambled up the posts to the upstairs porch and screeched bloody murder until mom opened the door. The night went down hill from there. My mom stuffed me into a box and drove forever to get to a vet. Don’t remember much until I woke up at home with this god-awful cone thing around my neck.

Needless to say, after that, I wasn’t allowed outside at night.

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