Sorbet Best Served Warm

Slipping through narrow alleys - that's what a stray does. And it's my specialty. Somehow, my absence leaves little attention and I feel blessed for that fact. I hate being noticed. It's not like I am peculiar or a movie star but I have to admit - I am good looking. For a Cornish Rex. That's right. I, Deo, am a local breed cat in the land of Celtic songs. Or so I like to think. My smooth orange fur and faint red under eye markings to bring out the dark purple hues of my eyes in any light. They can make any cat in the neighborhood jealous.

However, my great intelligence fails to build rapport with my kind (whichever breed they are). I am avoided and I would like to think because they see the world differently. Their daily life is simply scavenging and begging without a plan for tomorrow. Sure, I enjoy my cat naps and pruning myself on trees.But nothing beats working for my food. Begging is beyond me - why put yourself down in front of those mindless rude humans when you can make them beg for your service. I bum around like any stray but when it's meal time, it's work time. Simple jobs to get through the day isn't so hard. Then again, is there any of those haughty overbearing humans who push their way around able to understand a cat like me? Fortunately, there seem to be one. You see, I am an orphan and the foster home had a shifty adviser who drops by to look for me particularly using these business visits as an excuse. If I get his minor requests done smoothly, I get rewarded. It may sound like he had a leash over my earnings so let me get this straight - I can reject him any time. He was the only one who understood me in this foster home where even the kids avoid me. My all-seeing eyes scare them. Ask me anything and I can point out information like a dictionary for a small fee. This is another of my unique skill I developed while avoiding trouble. Hence, I like to stay out of sight to so discreet jobs from him is my specialty.

Who is this man? He is known around here as the Messenger. His actual job scope is a mystery to me but we work well together. Beautiful minds think alike. For a human form, I would say his appearance are little extravagant although his holographic blond hair was much of an attention seeking feature. His sky blue parka is a trademark and he always smells strongly of store-bought lemon sorbet which he knew would draw my presence every single time no matter how cold the weather is. It flashes in the setting sun every time he appears at the doorstep.

That was a scene of the past. I am 18-years-old handsome, bright cat freshly 'graduated' from the forgotten foster home. And I am seeking a new hideout in quiet rooftops. I hate attention but I need Messenger. He had suggested a few gaudy places which I turned my pink nose from. Human homes were never welcoming to me. They could not understand how I hate to be fawned over or nagged at. 'MYOB' is a new era synonym for minding my own business. Those humans could never get enough of my meows. I hated the extra attention when they could not understand I like to stay the way I am - free.

I had lost touch with Messenger for a few days while house hunting. To recount the day I met her; it was an unusually humid summer afternoon and I decided against my inner conscience to jump onto the ledge of a random low brow human building with a faint sorbet smell. Oh that fragrance! I was too tired from the many sleepless nights and a short nap by the windowsill seemed like a good idea. She was not particularly beautiful in a cat's eyes...