The Adventures of Reza Shadey

Story 111: Reza Shadey, the Yoga Guru of Catford-on-Paws

It was a calm, peaceful morning in Mrs Higgins's living room. The sun was streaming through the window, and Mrs Higgins was rolling out a long, purple, squishy mat on the floor. Thwump-rollll.

At the same time, the television was playing a fascinating programme about a faraway city. Mrs Higgins paused to watch. "Oh, look, Reza!" she cooed. "It's Istanbul! They call it 'Catstanbul' because the cats there are treated like royalty!"

Royalty...? Reza Shadey, who had been washing his paw with mild disinterest, suddenly froze. His emerald eyes locked onto the screen. He saw cats lounging on café chairs, cats napping on motorbikes, and cats being fed by smiling strangers. The narrator's voice boomed: "In this city, cats are unofficial tourist ambassadors, looked after by dedicated mancacıs, or cat-sitters."

Reza's whiskers twitched. "Ambassadors?" he thought. "Mancacı? Royalty? That sounds exactly like the job description I was born for!"

Then, he looked at the purple mat Mrs Higgins had just unrolled. It was soft. It was grand. It was right in the middle of the room. Mrs Higgins knelt down on it and lowered her forehead to the floor.

Reza gasped. "She is bowing!" he realized (incorrectly). "She knows! She recognises my royal status! She understands that I am now the Sultan of this house! That purple mat is not for exercise... it is a Royal Throne Rug for ME!"

With a dignified mrrrow, Reza marched onto the mat. He sat directly in front of Mrs Higgins's nose, puffed out his chest, and purred. "You may rise, loyal subject. I accept your worship."

Mrs Higgins lifted her head. "Oh, Reza, move your fluff! I'm trying to do Child's Pose."

Reza blinked. "Child's Pose? Nonsense. That was clearly the 'Bowing to the Fluffy Master' pose." He refused to move. If Istanbul could be 'Catstanbul', then this place would be... 'Catford-on-Paws'! And he would be its Guru.

He zoomed out to the garden to spread the word. "Minions! Assemble!" he yowled from the top of the compost bin (which he was now calling the Galata Tower).

Penelope, Ginger Tom, and Tiger gathered round. Reza looked down at them with supreme importance.

"Friends!" he declared. "We are no longer mere pets. We are 'unofficial tourist ambassadors'!" "We are establishing a new society of softness!" "And I, naturally, am your Guru."

Ginger Tom yawned. "Does being an ambassador involve snacks?"

"Precisely!" said Reza. "In Catford-on-Paws, humans are known as 'mancacı'. That means 'cat sitter'." "Their only job is to walk around feeding us treats. Tom, you are in charge of enforcing this law."

Tom's eyes lit up. "Best. Law. Ever."

"Now", continued Reza, "follow me to the Sacred Purple Mat. We must practice our poses to encourage the humans to worship us."

They trooped into the living room. Mrs Higgins was now standing on one leg, her arms in the air. "Wobble... wobble..." she muttered.

"Observe!" whispered Reza. "She is doing the 'Reaching for the Treat' pose. Very spiritual."

Tiger bounced onto the mat. "I can do yoga! Watch me!" He threw himself onto his back, legs wiggling in the air. "This is the 'Happy Dead Bug'!"

Reza shook his head. "No, Tiger. That lacks dignity. We must do the 'Ottoman Empire' pose. It involves lying completely flat and refusing to move for hours."

Penelope stepped onto the mat gracefully. "Rezzi, I think she's just trying to stretch. Maybe we should give her some space?"

"Space?" scoffed Reza. "In Catford-on-Paws, we share our spaces! It is a 'shared city'!" "We must help her achieve... softness."

He decided to demonstrate. As Mrs Higgins moved into a pose called 'Downward Dog', Reza was horrified. "Dog? In my palace? Absolutely not!"

"Correction!" he meowed loudly. "This shall be known as the 'Downward Cat'! It is an ancient move used to guard against rodents on ships!"

He leapt underneath Mrs Higgins's tummy and began to bat at her hair, which was dangling down. "I am guarding you from invisible mice! You're welcome!"

Mrs Higgins giggled. "Reza! That tickles!" She collapsed gently onto her knees. "Oof!"

Reza climbed onto her back and sat there like a king on a camel. "Excellent", he told the other cats. "She has surrendered to my softness. Now, Tom! Demand the tribute!"

Ginger Tom marched up to Mrs Higgins's face and let out a demanding "MROW?" which clearly meant, "Mancacı, hand over the goods."

Mrs Higgins sighed, wiping her brow. "I suppose that's the end of yoga for today. You lot are impossible. Who wants a biscuit?"

Reza's eyes gleamed. "It worked!" he thought. "Catford-on-Paws is a success!"

He hopped off her back and strutted towards the kitchen, tail held high. "Come, fellow ambassadors!" he called to Penelope, Ginger Tom and Tiger. "Our work here is done. We have brought calm to the chaotic metropolis!"

As they crunched their biscuits, Reza looked back at the purple yoga mat. "Tomorrow", he mused, "I shall teach her the 'Sleeping Croissant'. It requires a lot of naps and absolutely no dogs."

Night night. Sleep tight.