Story 27: Reza Shadey's Meeoww Immigration
Snuggle down tight, little ones, and let me tell you a tale about Reza Shadey's latest and most complicated scheme...
One cosy evening, Reza Shadey sat on Mrs Higgins's patio, his fluffy tail swishing like a furry broom. His clever green eyes spotted the big, comfy sofa through the window.
"What an inefficient use of such a fine sofa", he thought, a magnificent idea sparking in his brain. "That is clearly a sanctuary! A high-value resting area! I shall establish an official cat-immigration service for less fortunate felines from outside the neighbourhood!"
He conveniently decided this service would require a small application fee, payable in treats.
The next morning, he marched through the garden, puffing out his chest.
"Hear ye, hear ye!" he yowled. "The Meeoww Immigration and Sofa Sanctuary Service is now open! For a modest fee of five crunchy treats, you may apply for a short stay on Mrs Higgins's finest upholstery! It is perfectly safe and extremely comfortable!"
Penelope, who was observing from a sunny spot, blinked her big, sensible eyes.
"But Rezzi, isn't that her sofa?"
Ginger Tom, woken from a nap by the commotion, grumbled,
"And what if she finds out about your... 'service'?"
Reza Shadey waved a paw dismissively.
"She will never notice! The applicants will be quiet as mice... quiet as sleeping, very grateful mice. A flawless plan."
Little Tiger bounced over, practically vibrating with excitement.
"My cousin Whiskers is visiting! His cushion at home is really lumpy. Can he apply for a comfy place to stay? Pleeease?"
Reza grinned, his eyes gleaming at his eager audience.
"For a special family-and-friends rate of six treats, his application will be fast-tracked!"
(He wasn't very good at maths...)
That night, Whiskers arrived — a fluffy grey cat with a nose that twitched like a rabbit's.
"Oooh! A proper sanctuary!" he purred, handing Reza a sparkly hairband as a little 'extra' to help his application along.
Reza's eyes lit up.
"Welcome! Now, remember the regulations: no noise, no paws on tables, and absolutely no snoring. We must maintain standards!"
But Whiskers was already bouncing on the sofa, testing its springiness.
"This is amazing! Much better than my old cushion!" he exclaimed.
Whiskers was a curious cat. Soon he spotted a shiny vase on a high shelf, its surface reflecting the moonlight like a tiny disco ball.
"Oooh, pretty!" he murmured.
Without thinking, he leapt — BOING! — paws outstretched...
But he misjudged the distance and...
CRASH — TINKLE — BOOM!
The vase shattered into a million pieces.
Upstairs, Mrs Higgins sat bolt upright.
"What was that?!"
Reza Shadey's fur puffed up like a dandelion.
"Quick! Low-power mode!" he hissed.
Both cats flopped onto the sofa, pretending to snore.
"Zzzzzz!" (very badly.)
Mrs Higgins flicked on the light.
"Reza Shadey! Why is there a strange cat on my sofa... and my vase in bits?"
Reza opened one eye, his mind racing.
"Erm... this is Whiskers. He is... a refugee! He is seeking asylum from a very hard, far-away cushion. The vase was merely a structural casualty of his relocation... a known risk in such situations... very standard."
Just then, Tiger, who had been peeking in through the cat flap, couldn't hold back.
"Wait a minute, Mrs Higgins! Reza made me pay six treats for Whiskers's visa pass! He said it was a family discount!"
Mrs Higgins raised an eyebrow and looked at Reza, who was trying very hard to look innocent... and failing.
She crossed her arms, but there was a twinkle in her eye.
"That is my sofa, Reza Shadey. And this 'service' is now completely closed. Understand?"
Reza hung his head.
But as soon as she turned away, he whispered to himself,
"A temporary setback. Next time, I shall include a mandatory breakages deposit. A strategic improvement."
And with that, he strutted off, already planning his next grand venture...
"Reza's Posh Poo Café! With litter trays and premium snacks..."
Mrs Higgins let Whiskers stay (and gave him extra cuddles).
Tiger got his treats back.
And Reza?
He kept the sparkly hairband... and wore it as a crown all week.
Night night. Sleep tight.