Story 36: Reza Shadey's Limp of Deception
One sunny afternoon, Reza Shadey was lounging in the garden, his sleek brown and black fur shining like a polished jewel. His big, clever green eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated mischief.
"Hmm", he thought. "How can I get EXTRA treats today? And maybe a special cuddle? Ah-ha! A plan of magnificent trickery is forming!"
"Penelope! Ginger Tom! Tiger!" he yowled, summoning them with a flick of his fluffy tail. "Come here at once! I have a brilliant, utterly foolproof plan... mostly for me, but you can join in!"
The three cats padded over, tails twitching. They knew Reza's "brilliant plans" usually meant trouble, but sometimes... sometimes they meant unexpected fun. Or at least, watching Reza get into trouble was always fun.
"What's the big idea, Reza?" asked Ginger Tom, his orange fur still a little ruffled from a nap.
Reza grinned, his whiskers twitching.
"We are going to pretend to be hurt! A little limp, a sad, pathetic meow, and the humans will fall for it! They'll rush over, cooing and fussing and, best of all... they'll give us treats! Mountains of them! You three will do the limping and I, the mastermind, will supervise from a safe distance."
Penelope tilted her head. "But Rezzi, isn't that... well, fibbing? And a bit mean to make the humans worry?"
Reza waved a dismissive paw. "Not fibbing — acting! Think of the tuna, Penelope. The extra-special chicken bits! We'll be rolling in snacks. Besides, the humans enjoy helping. It's a win-win. Mostly for me."
Tiger bounced on his paws. "I'll do a really dramatic limp! Like this!" He wobbled sideways, nearly toppling over. "Wobble wobble!"
Ginger Tom nodded. "Count me in. I love a good trick... especially if it involves biscuits."
"Excellent", purred Reza. "Now, practise! Nobody gets treats if the acting isn't convincing!"
The cats spent the next hour perfecting their performance. Penelope dragged a paw with delicate, almost balletic sadness. Ginger Tom hobbled with exaggerated groans. "Oh, my aching paw! The agony!" And Tiger bounced and wobbled like a spring that had come loose.
Reza watched closely. "More suffering, Ginger Tom! Less bouncing, Tiger! Penelope... yes, that tiny sad blink — perfect!"
At last, they set off into the neighbourhood, each taking a different street.
Penelope soon caught an old lady's eye. "Oh, you poor, delicate thing!" she said, offering a piece of cooked chicken. Ginger Tom charmed a kind man into giving him ear scratches and a handful of crunchy biscuits. Tiger's wobbly performance had children fussing over him, dropping crumbs like tiny treasures.
Reza was nearby supervising. He did not limp himself, of course. He sat regally on a garden wall, looking concerned and occasionally meowing softly in their direction.
"Meeeow... oh dear... so brave... so very hurt..."
A small crowd gathered. One lady even fetched a whole tin of cat food.
Reza's eyes gleamed. This was, without question, a highly successful operation.
But then —
"WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!"
, the nosy terrier from down the road, came charging along like a furry alarm bell.
The cats froze.
Then — RUN!
Penelope, Ginger Tom and Tiger forgot their limps entirely and shot off like rockets. Zoom! Whoosh! Zing!
The humans blinked in surprise.
"Hang on", said one man. "Those cats aren't hurt at all. Look at them go!"
Up on the wall, Reza realised — just a moment too late.
He leapt down to escape —
WHOOSH!
A child on a scooter sped past.
CRUNCH!
The wheel rolled right over the very tip of Reza's magnificent, fluffy tail.
"MEEEEE-YOWCH!"
Reza collapsed in a heap, clutching his tail. "It actually hurts!" he cried, tears springing to his eyes.
The humans only chuckled.
"Oh, now that one's putting on a show", said a woman. "Probably wants more treats."
No one came to help.
From under a nearby bush, Penelope peeked out. "Rezzi... are you really hurt this time?"
"Yes!"Reza whimpered. "My tail! This is not pretend agony!"
Ginger Tom and Tiger crept back, their mischief forgotten.
"He really is hurt", said Ginger Tom quietly. "Come on — let's get him home."
Carefully, they helped the genuinely limping Reza back to Mrs Higgins' house.
Mrs Higgins took one look at his squashed tail tip and hurried him off to the vet.
The vet was kind and gentle. "Just bruised", she said. "Not broken, thankfully. He'll be perfectly fine with a bit of rest — and no more scooter incidents."
Later, back home, Reza lay on his favourite cushion, the tip of his tail wrapped in a small, colourful bandage. His friends sat nearby.
"I'm sorry about your tail, Rezzi", said Penelope softly. "Your plans don't just go a bit wrong, do they?"
Reza let out a long, dramatic sigh. Then, very carefully, he puffed out his chest.
"Wrong?" he said. "Penelope, please. This was a highly advanced test of the local veterinary services... and I'm pleased to report they passed."
Ginger Tom raised an eyebrow. "You cried real tears."
"Essential details",Reza replied smoothly. "One must be convincing."
Tiger's eyes widened. "So you were being a brave test patient?"
Reza gave a small, satisfied smile. "Precisely, Tiger. A complete success."
He settled back into his cushion, wincing just a little as his tail shifted.
"Though", he added thoughtfully, "future tests may avoid scooters."
Mrs Higgins, later that evening, said quite firmly, "Scooters and bicycles move very fast, and roads or busy pavements can be dangerous. Always watch carefully and never play near moving wheels."
Reza, half-asleep, gave a tiny nod.
Whether he agreed... or was already planning his next idea... was not entirely clear.
Night night. Sleep tight.