My muscles were still sore by the time I got the chance to take a good look at the city. It was not quite as big as I had imagined it to be, but it was busy all the same. Animals were rushing to and fro as they desperately tried to make a living while a small handful of humans casually strolled past the stores. They were clearly better off than anyone I'd ever met, but that's not to say all of the animals were lower class. Most of the shop owners appeared to be animals and they barely had to lift a finger all day.
My time for observing was quickly cut short by a rumbling growl from my stomach. I hadn't eaten since dinner the night before. You may think my poverty back then might have helped me get used to hunger, but you are sadly mistaken. I may not have eaten good food, but I had always had a tiny bit of food I could count on. I didn't have a single Bell to my name or a single crumb of food in my pockets.
As my stomach's protests intensified, I glanced around me in hopes of seeing some easily obtained food. My eyes soon fell upon a quant little bakery in one of the city's side streets. As much as my mouth watered at the scent of the freshly baked bread, I could not stoop so low as to steal. Instead, I sat across from the bakery and prepared my guitar. I knew that even if nobody would be kind enough to help me, a little music would at least let me unload some of my feelings.
Back then, I didn't have many songs I new by heart and the ones that I was familiar with were very simple. You know the kind, the little tunes that kids sing with their friends and family. Finding that none of them fit my mood quite right, I decided to put my paw to the strings and just let my emotions guide the tune. I played a soft, sad blues that I could tell passers by were listening to. Many of them slowed down as they passed me and a few even had tears forming in their eyes, but it took a long time for anyone to stop.
I let my heart and soul melt into the music and, before I knew it, I couldn't even tell if anyone was listening to me. Lost in my own sorrow, I didn't notice the crowd forming around me until it had been an hour since I had tuned out the world. I only noticed the mass of animals and people after I stopped playing and when I did the crowd applauded me. I still can't even begin to express the bliss I felt back then. Seeing one's music make others happy is a beautiful thing and since it was my first time doing so to anyone besides my dad, I was in shock.
After the thunder of the applause died down, I saw a single, tall figure glide his way through the crowd. Everyone seemed to know by instinct to let him through and even I could see why. He was a lanky cat with glossy golden fur, a well kept suit, and, though I couldn't see it, an obviously fat wallet. Once he reached the front of the crowd, he bent down and spoke to me. "Dear boy, those are quite the skilled fingers you have there. Would you and those fancy fingers care to join me at my record company?"