Story 23: Reza Shadey's Garden Meeting
Alright, little ones, snuggle down tight.
This is the tale of a Very Important Garden Meeting (at least, that's what he told everyone) — chaired, of course, by the one and only Reza Shadey.
Once upon a time, in a garden somewhere in Catford, the flowers were in bloom, the bees were bumbling, and the birds were gossiping in the hedges.
And right in the middle of it all sat Reza Shadey: sleek Persian fur gleaming, chest puffed out, eyes narrowed in what he believed was a very strategic, statesmanlike fashion.
He perched on a garden chair like it was a throne.
Tap-tap-tap went his paw on the armrest.
"Order! Order!" he boomed, with the confidence of a grand leader who was quite certain the whole world was listening.
"The emergency meeting of the Garden Council is now in session!"
Penelope, the graceful white cat, arrived first, as punctual as a clock. Her tail swished neatly behind her.
"Good morning, Rezzi", she said, sitting with calm dignity.
Reza gave a solemn nod, as if he were terribly busy running an empire.
Then came Ginger Tom, bounding in with his fur ruffled, looking as though he'd lost a fight with a dandelion.
"Sorry I'm late, guv'nor!" he panted. "There was this butterfly, right? Beautiful thing. Had to give it a chase, didn't I?"
Reza fixed him with a disapproving glare.
"One minute late, Tom. One. Minute. This sort of behaviour would never be tolerated in a professional organisation."
Tom tilted his head.
"Professional organisation? We're cats, mate."
Reza flicked his tail.
"Semantics. Take your seat."
Just then Tiger scampered in — a bundle of whiskers, stripes, and untamed kitten energy. He tried to sit, but ended up vibrating on the spot, his tail flick-flick-flicking like a faulty metronome.
"Tiger!" said Reza sharply. "This is a serious meeting. Sit. Still."
"I'm trying!" Tiger squeaked, bouncing on his paws. "But it's just so exciting out here!"
Reza sighed dramatically.
"Very well. We proceed. Penelope, you shall take the minutes. Since none of us can write, you will simply... remember everything."
Penelope dipped her head.
"I'll do my best, Rezzi."
Reza cleared his throat.
"Now then. The agenda. Mrs Higgins has lodged a formal complaint."
The cats leaned forward.
Reza lowered his voice gravely.
"She claims the garden currently suffers from an unpleasant aroma. Specifically... it smells of wee."
He said it like a judge pronouncing sentence.
"We must investigate and discover the culprit."
The cats all looked at one another.
Ginger Tom whistled. Tiger gasped. Penelope blinked slowly.
Reza puffed up.
"My prime suspects are — a very shifty fellow — or perhaps Felix the Fox, who prowls about under cover of darkness."
Penelope frowned thoughtfully.
"But rarely leaves his doghouse, and Felix hasn't been around much. Shouldn't we look for clues first?"
"Clues?" Reza sniffed. "Am I a detective now?"
"Yes", said Penelope calmly. "You called the meeting."
Ginger Tom raised a paw.
"I saw some paw prints by the flower bed this morning. Could follow 'em, see where they lead."
"Excellent!" cried Tiger, bouncing so hard he nearly toppled into the roses. "Let's go investigate!"
The four cats padded over to the flower bed.
Sure enough, paw prints trailed through the soil toward a bush — and with them came a very suspicious smell.
Penelope bent down to examine the ground.
"These are cat prints", she said. "Definitely not a dog's. And far too small for a fox."
Tiger sniffed the bush and instantly pulled a face.
"Ewww."
Ginger Tom squinted at the paw prints.
"Blimey... they look a lot like yours, Reza."
Reza froze. His whiskers twitched.
"What? Impossible! I always use the indoor litter tray. Always! Religiously!"
Suspicion hung in the air like last night's tuna.
For the moment the mystery remained unsolved, and Reza quickly ended the meeting.
"Remain alert!" he commanded. "Keep watch over the garden!"
Soon after, Reza left to attend to very important napping business.
The moment he disappeared, Penelope leaned toward the others.
"Pssst... we'll set a trap."
Tom's ears perked up.
"What sort of trap?"
"A bell and a bit of string by the bush", she whispered. "Whoever comes back will reveal themselves."
Tom grinned.
"That's a brilliant plan."
Tiger nodded enthusiastically.
"A very sneaky plan!"
So the three cats tied a small bell to the bush and crept behind the big oak tree to hide.
They crouched low.
Unfortunately, Tiger's tail was sticking out from behind the trunk.
"Tiger", whispered Tom. "Your tail."
Tiger tried to tuck it in. It popped back out again.
"Tiger", whispered Penelope.
"I'm trying!" Tiger whispered — rather loudly.
Then they waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Suddenly —
Ding-a-ling!
The bell jingled.
The cats peeked around the tree.
And there, caught in the act, was Reza himself, glancing about with all the subtlety of a cat wearing a neon sign.
"Aha!" shouted Ginger Tom. "Wot'd I tell ya? It's our glorious chairman!"
Reza leapt three feet in the air, his magnificent fur standing on end.
"I was merely... ah... conducting a very important plant-watering experiment!"
Penelope sighed gently.
"Rezzi, plants don't need that kind of watering."
Tiger burst into giggles.
"Reza! You're the smelly culprit!"
Instead of looking embarrassed, Reza puffed out his chest.
"You simpletons misunderstand the situation entirely! The indoor litter tray is very inconveniently located. By using the garden, I was simply saving valuable time."
"Convenient for you", said Penelope, "but not for Mrs Higgins or her flowers."
Reza paused.
Then he flicked his tail thoughtfully.
"Very well. If my helpful gardening efforts are not appreciated, I shall return to the indoor tray."
Penelope purred softly.
"That's better. We forgive you, Rezzi."
"Yeah, all's well", said Ginger Tom. "Fancy a snack?"
"Let's play tag!" squeaked Tiger, already chasing his own tail.
And so they did — tumbling, pouncing, and chasing each other in the golden light of the garden.
Mrs Higgins looked out her window and smiled.
The smell eventually faded, the flowers were safe, and the cats — including the very dignified Reza — were happy.
Reza stretched, surveyed the garden proudly, and gave a satisfied nod.
"Another successful investigation", he murmured to himself. "Excellent leadership all around, as usual."
From that day on, Reza used the litter tray again.
Well.
Most of the time.
Night night. Sleep tight.