Most house cats are creatures of comfort. A soft cushion, a sunny windowsill, maybe a treat or two before curling up for a nap.
But Aron, a chubby tabby from a quiet neighbourhood, has always been a little different.
While his owner, Chang, was used to seeing him perched on the first-floor window ledge or watching the world go by from the open window,
Aron had a habit of slipping out now and then. It was nothing unusual.
He’d vanish for a day or two and come back like nothing had happened.
Chang never worried too much. Aron was smart. He was cautious. And he was well-liked by the neighbours.
But this time, something felt off.
Aron had been gone longer than usual. Three full days had passed, and there was no sign of him.
Chang tried to stay calm, but the worry crept in. Was he okay? Had he gotten lost? Worse, was he hurt?
The neighbourhood wasn’t dangerous, but anything could happen. There were stray dogs in the area. Cars zipped by too fast.
And Aron, despite his adventurous spirit, wasn’t exactly built for sprinting away from trouble.
Then, on the third evening, just as the sun began to set, Chang heard a familiar sound at the door.
It was a soft meow, low but persistent. When he opened the door, there was Aron, looking none the worse for wear.
But something was different.
Around his neck, attached to his collar, was a note.
Chang bent down, heart racing a little, and gently untied the small slip of paper. What he read made him stop in his tracks.
“Your cat kept staring at the mackerels at my store, so I gave him three mackerels.”
There was a name at the bottom. Aunt May. And beneath that, a phone number.
Aron blinked up at him with the same calm expression he always wore, completely unaware of the small mystery he had carried home.
Chang didn’t know what to think. Who was Aunt May? Why had she fed his cat? And had Aron just spent the last three days hanging around a fish shop?
Unable to resist, he called the number. A gentle voice answered, and soon the pieces of the story began to fall into place.
Aunt May was the owner of a local fish store. She had spotted Aron loitering outside the window, completely mesmerized by the fish on display.
He wouldn’t leave. Not for hours. Something about the plump tabby cat’s stare must have struck a chord with her, because instead of shooing him away, she invited him in and fed him.
She gave him three fish. Not scraps. Not leftovers. Real fish.
Chang was stunned. “He looked so focused,” she explained. “Like he had fallen in love with the fish. I couldn’t say no.”
She had attached the note hoping to get in touch with the owner.
Maybe to get reimbursed, maybe just to make sure Aron wasn’t a stray. Either way, she hadn’t expected a call so soon.
Chang thanked her over the phone, but he couldn’t let it end there.
The next day, he visited the shop in person. He paid for the fish, of course, and spent a few moments chatting with Aunt May, who now seemed to know more about Aron’s personality than most people.
The two shared a laugh over the whole thing. Aron had, quite literally, eaten and run.
Back at home, Aron resumed his daily routine as if nothing had happened.
He still climbed up to his favourite window. Still watched people walk past. But Chang noticed something new.
Every now and then, Aron would gaze a little longer in the direction of the fish shop, like he was remembering his secret adventure.
It wasn’t just a story about a curious cat. It was a reminder of how animals have a way of surprising us when we least expect it.
They get into trouble. They charm their way out of it. And sometimes, they come back with stories we’d never believe, if it weren’t for the handwritten note around their neck.
In the end, Aron proved what all pet owners secretly suspect: even when they wander off, our animals always find their way home.
Sometimes, with a full belly and a tale worth telling.