Look, I may not be able to spell "legacy"; but I know what it means. It means leaving something behind that lasts. Like that weird squeaky duck I buried under the porch. And my little fuzzy cat toy under the couch. 

Or better yet, a big, beautiful portrait of me looking noble and floofy that hangs over the fireplace like I'm the furry ruler of the living room. Which to be clear, I am.

When you look at that portrait years from now, I want you to remember it all. Th morning zoomies, the rainy day snuggles, and the time I barked heroically at a suspicious leaf or pounced on a dust bunny. 

That's what legacy looks like.