The Rhythm Of Rescue

002 | First glance

As I sat in the cozy cafe, surrounded by the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet scent of pastries, the classic Winter Wonderland tune drifted from the jukebox.

The chatter of families and friends, all snuggled up with steaming mugs and plates of treats, created a lively hum that was almost palpable. The three waitresses, dressed in their festive red and white pin-up girl dresses, complete with antlers perched on their heads, flitted around the room with a cheerful energy that was infectious.

My fingers, stiff from two hours of crunching numbers on my laptop, reached out to flag one down.

"Would it be possible to get a warm-up on my coffee? This one's gone a bit cold," I mumbled, shoving a stray strand of hair out of my face.

She smiled brightly. "Sure, honey! Anything else to warm you up?" she chirped, taking the cup.

"Two lemon bars would be perfect," I replied, my stomach rumbling in agreement. "The ones with the shortbread crust, if you have them."

"Coming right up!" she chimed and left.

With a satisfied sigh, I slammed my laptop shut. The weekly dashboard - a visual representation of Ember and Co.'s progress - was finally finished.

As a data analyst at Ember and Co., a mid-sized company that provided a suite of products and services for businesses in the hospitality industry, especially hotels and restaurants, my job was to make sense of the chaos. My weekly dashboard was my masterpiece, a clear and concise snapshot of how our clients were performing.

Relief washed over me as my gaze drifted over to the big TV screen in the corner just as that Waitrose ad - #HomeForChristmas - started playing.

It dropped a few weeks before Christmas and had everyone talking. It was one of those ads that just grabbed your heart and gave it a good squeeze.

It was all about a brave little robin who goes on an epic journey to get back to its garden in the UK. It shows how the robin migrates from Scandinavia, through mountains, and seas and almost doesn't make it. And then there's the sweet moment when it finally gets back and meets up with its bird pal, and they share a mince pie left out by a thoughtful kid staring from her cozy living room.

The ad wraps up with a perfect snowy scene and the line "At Christmas, there's nothing quite like Waitrose."

A playful bark yanked me out of my daydream.

It was close, insistent.

As I scooted away from the window, I snuck a glance under the table and my eyes landed on the same scruffy little thief from the park - a furry ball of mischief with a wagging tail and a snout smeared with dirt, his big brown eyes looking into mine.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," I grinned, "the mitten thief."

He barked again, a happy, double-woof.

Before I could quip back, a young girl with her friends stopped by my table on their way out.

"Aww, he's so cute. What's his name?" she cooed, bending down to scratch his ears.

"Brutus," I replied, "but he's not mine. It's on his tag."

The girl reached for his collar, her fingers brushing against the worn leather.

"Oh no, this is way too tight. You should loosen it up a bit."

Just then, her friends, already outside, called for her. With a hurried goodbye and a wave to Brutus, she scurried outside after saying, "You should loosen his collar."

"Where's your owner, you cute thing," I mumbled, scratching behind his ears as I cast my gaze around the cafe.

No sign of him.