“How do you do? I’m Quince, and I’m a fine gentleman. I sure would like to know why I’ve been arrested. Aren’t there laws that say that when you arrest a fellow, you have to tell him why. I think that’s in the Constitution!  I know it says you have to feed the fellow – which, I admit, you’ve been doing. “

“Not only am I a gentleman, I am a buff tabby gentleman, which means I am almost orange, faded a little. I’m sitting in this box that says I am “Mango Tangerine Juice” – which I am certainly not. Not mango, not tangerine, not juice, either. Just a fine buffy tabby gentlemen, about the color of stewed quince. And, OK, in case you don’t know, a Quince is a fruit – which I also am not. It grows on a tree, and it looks like the apple that lost the fight.”

“Now, then, let’s talk cat. I am a dignified sort, don’t do kitten kapers, probably don’t claw furniture or climb drapes, but it’s possible that, living outside as I have, I’ve not seen much of furniture and drapes. I do purr and smile nice. For a so-called stray, I sure do like people – a lot. But don’t try to pick me up and carry me around like a sack of potatoes. I am also not potatoes. I am a fine cat man, as in CatManDo and CatManDon’t. I will sit with you and listen to silly human stories. Might even laugh now and then.”

“I understand that I was arrested for being homeless. Well, that’s no crime – but if I was sent here to get a home, then give me one. Be good, kind, fine people who wish to live with a good, kind, fine cat. I’d like a home with a couple of sunny windows in which I can sit – trade off between them, you know. Also some good, fine food – doesn’t have to be kind – does have to be a kind.”

“You’re going to like me. You’re going to love me. I’m a good, kind, fine gentleman, and I’m going to grow on you. Remember, I’m Quince. I need a home. I’d like a home. Do find yourself – and me - $120, and stop in at Feline Rescue – ask for the guy who is almost orange – but not quite.”