Day 76: 22 January 2026

 Short Story -- Once Upon a Time... 

Once upon a time in a kingdom not as far away as you might think there lived a…

Cat.

To be clear, in case your imagination is already running away with you and making you think that in this kingdom cats were able to talk or wore clothes or acted as diplomats… they can’t. They only do the usual cat things: hunt mice (if you’re lucky), enjoy catnip, push anything on a table or counter off of it, etc. That is to say that in this kingdom they aren’t generally any more or less sentient than the cats you probably know wherever you are.

Now that that’s been established:

Once upon a time there was a cat.

He was a medium sized cat with grey patches and white areas of fur. He was quite fluffy. He had intelligent green eyes. And what really made him stand out — in appearance that is — is that he had markings by his mouth that looked surprisingly like Poirot’s moustache.

No one quite knew where the cat lived, but many many people throughout the castle and the capital city of the kingdom at large were familiar with this cat and also feeding him.

How did he become a cat of such renown, you ask?

Let me tell you a story…

It takes place several years before now. And the city’s most creative and illustrious baker had learned about something called chocolate in a novel that he’d been reading. ‘Could it be real?’ he wondered to himself, scratching a particular moustached looking cat behind the ears that was sitting next to him while he read. ‘A bean that is bitter but can be made sweet?’ He wanted to learn more, but chocolate had never been heard of this kingdom. The cat appeared to come over and look at the book. The baker laughed affectionately, ‘It almost looks as if you are reading and want to know more too, Soufflé,’ he said.

By the next morning, the cat was gone, which was not unusual, as he was known to come and go as he pleased.

The baker continued making his pastries and bread. Customers continued coming from all around the city to try them or to get their favourites.

And soon a few days had passed and the cat — Soufflé if you will for this story — was back. And when he returned he had a small bag on his back, about the size of a bag of coffee grounds.

‘What have you got here, my friend?’ the baker asked, putting down a saucer of milk for the cat and picking up the bag off his back.

When he opened it, it was full of small dark brown drops. He poured one or two out to examine them. They were solid but not hard and getting softer as he held them. Soufflé nudged his hand indicating that he should eat one, and the baker did. Never had he tasted something like it! The perfect balance of bitter and sweet. ‘Soufflé, what have you brought me?!’ the baker exclaimed. ‘And can I get more?’

Soufflé walked over to where the novel was setting under the counter waiting to be read over the baker’s lunch break. He placed his paw on the novel.

‘Is this chocolate?’ the baker asked with wonder.

Soufflé meowed.

‘But how?’ he asked.

Soufflé looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘These do not look like beans, Soufflé,’ the baker said seriously.

Soufflé looked at him reproachfully.

‘You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. I am very thankful for the chocolate,’ the baker said.

And, if you will believe it, the first thing the baker tried making with his newly discovered chocolate was: a chocolate soufflé. And it was a hit! Soon even the king was asking after them.

Perhaps you’re thinking to yourself: so the cat found some chocolate, so what?

Here’s another story…

Only a couple of years ago, there was a young woman preparing to marry her true love. Neither of them were wealthy but they were both hardworking and honest and content that they would have each other.

The girl’s name was Adrianna, and being both industrious and poor, she decided to make her own wedding dress. She longed to make something beautiful and as special as the day would be to her; however, there was no money for a dress that could only be worn once, so she contented herself with making a new dress but something sturdy and modest.

She was cutting out the pieces by the light of the fire and Buttons — the cat, as you might have guessed — was watching her. The fabric was a soft green muslin. She knew she could get a lot of wear out of the material, even if the colour was slightly less practical as it would show dirt, and she could use any scraps leftover from making the dress for a myriad of things.

Adrianna was an excellent seamstress. In fact she spent most of her days making beautiful gowns and handsome suits for wealthy clients.

Buttons watched her confidently cutting the cloth. He could see that she was happy: happy to be getting married to her true love.

He stayed with her one more day before disappearing. And when he left it was only for one night.

The next evening he showed up to Adrianna’s client’s house where she was finishing up. He waited patiently, like the gentleman he was, by the front gate for her be done.

She saw him as she was exiting. ‘Buttons!’ she greeted. ‘Come to walk me home?’

Buttons gave a slight nod. And together they set off.

Back at the humble room she rented, after she’d taken off her hat, she noticed a little purse on her sewing table that hadn’t been there before. ‘What’s this?’ she wondered walking over.

Opening it, she saw it was full of pearl buttons. Not buttons that looked like or were shaped like pearls, but actual pearls that had been fashioned into buttons. She gasped. This was an extravagant gift!

Button looked up at her resting his paw on her hand. He looked at the bag and then at the dress. And that is how Adrianna realised that Buttons had brought them for her dress.

‘It’s too much!’ she said breathlessly.

But Buttons just meowed, rubbed his head against her hand, jumped from the table and disappeared out the open window.

Perhaps by now you’re seeing a pattern, but since things come in threes, let me share one more story…

A few days ago (and probably still), there were two orphans, a brother and a sister, huddled in a hovel they’d made under a bridge trying to stay dry from the rain.

‘I’m cold,’ the little girl said, for they’d not lived this life long yet and she was still young enough to be honest about her discomfort. Her teeth were chattering even though her brother was trying to protect her from the rain.

‘I know,’ he said sadly. ‘I’m doing the best I can.’

‘Perhaps tomorrow we’ll find something useful?’ the little girl asked hopefully.

The brother wasn’t used to sifting through rubbish. He didn’t know who would through out blankets or clothes. He wasn’t sure at all they’d find something useful like that. He stayed silent and hugged her closer.

And that was when a grey and white cat threaded itself between their legs purring.

The little girl bent down to pick him up. ‘A cat!’ she cried with delight. ‘Can we keep him?’

The boy knew he could barely feed them, much less a cat. Thankfully he noticed the cat looked well taken care of. ‘He looks clean and fed,’ the brother said. ‘I think he already has a home.’

The cat continued to purr in the little girl’s arms. And they both fell asleep that night — the boy for the first time in days — under the cat’s watchful eyes.

The boy woke up first. And as he stretched, the cat jumped lightly to the ground. He looked at the boy and the girl. The boy gave him a pet on the head. And then he started walking off.

The boy and the girl left the safety of their bridge that day not long after. They hunted for scraps of food in people’s rubbish.

That night, when they returned to under the bridge, there were two heavy coats in just the right sizes and one large wool blanket. They looked brand new.

Both children stared wide eyed at the neat little pile, on top of which sat a certain cat.

Needless to say, the children were not cold or wet that night.

I could tell you more stories, of course, of the curious things and the extravagant things and the practical things that this particular cat managed to find and show up with to those who were looking. People speculate about how he gets them and how he carries them. But everyone knows that he’s an extraordinary (and generous) cat.