The Adventures of Reza Shadey

Story 119: That Litter Tray Cat

Okay, snuggle down tight, little ones. Let me tell you a tale about a very grand cat who decided he was simply too beautiful for the garden and belonged on the silver screen...

It began on a drizzly Wednesday morning. Mrs Higgins had just sat down with her cup of tea and her tablet when she read something out loud, mostly to herself.

"Does your cat have star quality?" she read. "Our cat talent agency offers the best feline stars for film, television, adverts and print..."

On the windowsill, Reza Shadey's ears twitched. He had been busy ignoring a pigeon, but the words "star quality" acted like a magnet to his ego.

"We cast cats of all breeds and temperaments", Mrs Higgins continued, scrolling down the page. "From playful kittens to charming cats... there's always a demand for animals with personality."

Reza slowly stood up. Personality? He had buckets of it. He had more personality in his left whisker than most cats had in their entire lives.

"...and go to great lengths to ensure the right cat is cast for your project", read Mrs Higgins.

Reza placed one paw purposefully on the table. "Project?" he thought. "Finally. The world is ready for the Reza Shadey Cinematic Universe."

Mrs Higgins peered at the screen over her spectacles. "Well, that sounds very professional", she said. "They're holding open auditions at the community hall this afternoon... 'Star Cats Casting Call'!"

"Auditions", Reza repeated softly to himself. He lifted his chin, catching the light perfectly. "Yes. The camera loves me. It would be cruel to deny it."

Mrs Higgins smiled at him. "I thought it might be a nice outing. They say it's all very calm and friendly. And you never know — it might help raise money for animal charities."

Reza misunderstood this completely. He assumed the charity was "The Reza Shadey Foundation for Under-Snacked Persians". "Calm. Friendly. Yes", he purred. "That is what I project. I am the picture of serenity."

He immediately zoomed out to the garden to "prepare" his team. If he was going to be a star, he needed an entourage.

"Attention!" he yowled from the top of the compost bin. "We are going to Hollywood! Or at least, the village hall! I have been scouted!"

Penelope looked up from cleaning her paws. "Scouted, Rezzi? Or did you just hear Mrs Higgins reading an advert?"

Reza waved a paw. "Semantics! We must prepare. I need a 'look'. Tiger, fetch me something dashing. Tom, practice looking like my bodyguard."

Tiger thought it sounded like running, so he started doing laps around the rosebush. Ginger Tom thought it sounded indoors, which was good, but possibly involved work, which was bad. Penelope thought it sounded interesting but possibly stressful.

Mrs Higgins, being a kind soul who didn't want anyone left out, offered to take them all in the big travel carrier. "It'll be fun", she said.

The community hall was buzzing. It was full of cats. There were cats sitting on velvet cushions. Cats waiting in travel bags. Cats being brushed by nervous owners. Cats wearing tiny numbered collars.

Banners hung on the walls: STAR CATS - DISCOVER FELINE TALENT - CASTING TODAY.

Reza strutted out of his carrier, expecting a red carpet. Instead, he got a linoleum floor that smelled of floor polish and anxiety.

At the front was a long table. Behind it sat a lady with a clipboard and very serious glasses, a man typing very fast without looking at the screen, and a smiling guest judge in a bright yellow jacket.

Ginger Tom gasped. "That's Mo Squibbins!" he whispered loudly. "He wrote 'Dreamies NOW!' He talks for a living!"

Mo Squibbins waved a paw warmly at the crowd. "We're just looking for authenticity today", he announced in his soothing guru voice. "Real cats. Real presence. We want the 'X-Meow' factor."

Reza nodded sagely. "Of course", he said to Penelope. "Authenticity. I have several types of authenticity. I can do 'Hungry Authentic', 'Sleepy Authentic' and 'Royalty Authentic'!"

But then, a hush fell over the room. The double doors swung open, and a handler walked in with a cat that looked like it had been carved out of marble.

This cat was sleek. This cat was muscular. This cat didn't just sit; he posed.

"This is Rock Solid", said his handler.

Reza scoffed. "Rock Solid? What sort of name is that? He sounds like a driveway."

Rock Solid walked to the mark on the floor. He stopped. He sat. He didn't blink. He didn't move a single whisker. He stared into the middle distance with a look of intense, brooding mystery.

The room went quiet. Even Tiger stopped bouncing.

Mo Squibbins leaned forward, adjusting his glasses. "That", he whispered into his microphone, "is premium stillness. Look at the emotional containment."

Everyone at the table wrote things down very fast. Reza narrowed his eyes. "Stillness? Anyone can do stillness! I do stillness for eighteen hours a day! It's called napping!"

One by one, the other cats were called. The instructions were simple: walk to the mark, sit, and remain comfortable while observed. "That's very important", said the clipboard lady. "We're assessing temperament, suitability, and screen trust."

A fluffy Persian named Joanna went up. "Lovely texture", said Mo Squibbins. "Very advert-friendly."

Penelope was next. She walked elegantly, sat neatly, washed her paw, and looked perfect. "Excellent focus", said the clipboard lady. "Very cooperative."

Then it was Tiger's turn. Tiger bounced onto the mark, bounced off the mark, chased a reflection from the judge's water glass, and returned doing a handstand.

Everyone laughed. "High energy", noted Mo Squibbins. "Possibly too much energy. Good for chaotic zoomies adverts."

Ginger Tom was called. He walked to the mark, yawned, lay down, and closed one eye. He looked like a comfortable rug. "Feels honest", Mo Squibbins finally said. "I believe him. That is a cat who enjoys a sofa."

Finally, it was Reza's turn.

He strutted to the center of the room. He ignored the mark on the floor entirely. "Marks are for amateurs", he thought. "I prefer to work beyond constraints."

He looked at Rock Solid, who was still freezing in the corner. Reza decided to show them Dynamic Acting.

He puffed out his chest to look heroic. Then he widened his eyes to look surprised. Then he licked his lips to look hungry. He did all three at once, which made him look slightly like he was about to sneeze.

He meowed loudly. "MROW! Observe my range!" he declared. "I am tragic! I am comic! I am hungry!"

He turned to the judges. "By the way", he added with a haughty sniff, "I like to be paid half in tuna and half in salmon, but not the cheap stuff! And I require a trailer. With heating."

The clipboard lady looked confused. "Could you", she asked gently, "just... sit? And maybe... look like a normal cat?"

Reza smiled a thin, pitying smile. "Normal? My dear woman, I am Reza Shadey. I am Avant-Garde."

He decided to demonstrate his "Sit". He jumped onto the judge's table, knocked over a stack of headshots, and sat directly on Mo Squibbins's notebook.

Mo Squibbins didn't get angry. He nodded enthusiastically. "Very grounded", he said. "Very... dominant."

After a long wait, the decisions were made.

Rock Solid was offered a starring role in a luxury diamond collar advert. Ginger Tom was offered background work as "Sleepy Cat number 4" in a sofa commercial. Penelope was told they'd "absolutely be in touch" for hair-care products.

Then the clipboard lady approached Reza. She looked a bit nervous.

"We do have something for you, Mr Shadey", she said carefully. "It's very... specific."

Reza straightened his whiskers. "A dramatic lead? A period drama?"

"It's for a new brand of ultra-absorbent litter", she said. "You'd be the... face of the campaign. We need a cat who looks... relieved. And confident."

There was a pause. "You'd be... using it. On camera."

Reza froze. A litter tray? Him? The Emperor of Catford? But then he looked at Rock Solid. Rock Solid didn't have a speaking role. Litter trays were essential. They were fundamental! It was a role of grittiness and truth!

Reza smiled slowly. "Yes", he said. "A bold career choice. I shall lend lustre to the loo. Gravitas to the gravel."

Two weeks later, the advert appeared everywhere. On buses. On billboards. On the side of the bin lorry.

There was Reza, sitting in a pristine tray, looking incredibly serious and focused, with the slogan: "For Serious Business. Trust Reza's Choice."

Children pointed at him in the street. "Look!" they shouted. "It's that litter tray cat!"

Mrs Higgins clapped her hands with delight. "Oh, Reza, my clever boy! You're famous at last!"

Reza watched himself in the mirror, practicing his "litter tray face".

"Fame", he purred to Penelope, "is a subtle thing. It's not about diamonds or sofas. It's about being the face of something real. Something... earthy."

He checked his reflection again. "After all", he purred, flicking his tail, "true stardom isn't about glamour — it's about leaving your mark on the world."

Somewhere in Hollywood, Rock Solid sat perfectly still while the camera rolled...

A very important message from Mrs Higgins: Just because a cat is cute doesn't mean they want to be a star! Real animal actors have special trainers and strict rules to keep them safe and happy. Never force your cat to perform if they just want a nap!

Night night. Sleep tight.