R.I.P. Pigeon: The Crankiest Cat Who Ever Inspired a Dragon

Some characters write themselves. Cula the Desert Dragon — cranky, stubborn, surprisingly lovable — didn't come from my imagination. She came from my couch.

Her name was Pigeon. But it wasn't always.

My son named her Samurai when she was young — we were all taking martial arts at the time, and it seemed to fit. It did not fit. Not even a little. Because this cat cooed. Not meowed. Not hissed. She made soft, round little sounds like a pigeon, and so Pigeon she became, and Pigeon she stayed for the next 23 years.

Pigeon had strong opinions about everything: her food, her space, her Hostess powdered white donuts (yes, really), and anyone who looked at her the wrong way. She was ancient, magnificent, and absolutely done with everyone's nonsense.

She was also the most perfect muse I never planned on.

When I needed a desert dragon with attitude, I didn't have to look far. Pigeon had been perfecting that energy for two decades. Every grumpy glare, every dramatic sigh, every donut-dusted whisker made it into Cula in one way or another.

And then there were the plums.

In her final years, Pigeon developed a habit. We have a plum tree in the backyard, and whether she couldn't see well or couldn't hear or simply had her own agenda — she would find the small green plums, either off the tree or fallen on the ground, and bring them inside the house. Then, in the middle of the night, she would scream at them. Not meow. Scream. The kind of sound that wakes the entire household, convinced something terrible has happened.

It was plums. It was always plums. Or the little puff balls from cat toys. Or any small round object that had the audacity to exist on her floor. Two or three times a week, for years, Pigeon would locate an inanimate object and absolutely lose her mind at it.

We stopped being scared. We started keeping score.

And yes — if you're reading the Dragon Academy series and you notice that Cula, in her later years, occasionally shrieks at things that don't deserve it? That's not a plot hole. That's a tribute. 🐉🍑

And if you've read Rise of the Red Dragon, keep your eyes open for another Easter egg. There's a moment — right before the entire world goes to war — where two very old, very cranky creatures are outside arguing over who gets the last white powdered donut. That's Pigeon. That's always been Pigeon. It started as a joke for my family, but now it belongs to all of you. 🍩

Pigeon passed recently after 23 glorious, opinionated, plum-screaming years. But she will live on in every page of both series, immortalized as the crankiest, most beloved dragon in the desert.

Rest easy, Pigeon. No one will ever scream at a plum quite like you did. 🐱🐉