The Adventures of Reza Shadey

Story 48: Reza Shadey and the Holy Mice Mishap

Reza Shadey, the grandest, fluffiest, most magnificently bossy Persian cat in the whole wide world, was sprawled across a pile of Mrs Higgins's freshly laundered towels, looking like a furry emperor on a fluffy throne. His shiny brown and black fur glistened and his emerald green eyes sparkled with dreams of ruling the universe. "I am destined for greatness!" he purred, imagining himself as the Chief Supreme Mouser of All the Lands, bossing everyone around with a dramatic swish of his splendid tail.

Downstairs, Mrs Higgins was packing her famous Petunia Marmalade into a crate for a big trade show in New Zealand. Reza watched from his towel throne, his whiskers twitching with disapproval. "Crooked ribbons! Wonky labels! Honestly, humans are HOPELESS without my superior supervision!" he huffed, plotting to take charge of the entire marmalade empire.

But then — OH NO! — a gang of cheeky mice invaded the packing room! They scampered over the ribbons, nibbled the labels and danced like naughty little bandits having a party. Reza's fur puffed up like a chocolate-coloured thundercloud. "The CHEEK! The OUTRAGE! The absolute RUDENESS!" he yowled, his voice booming like a tiny, very offended lion. With a mighty HISSSSSS! and a dramatic flick of his glorious tail, he sent the mice scattering. SQUEAK! EEK! ZOOM! They ran for their lives, tripping over their own tiny tails and bumping into each other!

Mrs Higgins clapped her hands with glee. "Oh, Reza, my brave, brilliant boy! You've saved my marmalade! You're definitely coming with me to New Zealand!" Before Reza could argue that aeroplanes were far too common and undignified for a cat of his royal stature, he was whisked into a fancy velvet-lined cat-carrier. "This had better have first-class service!" he grumbled as they zoomed onto a big plane. WHOOSH!

The plane ride was absolutely dreadful! "This recycled air is RUINING my magnificent fluff!" Reza complained, glaring at the boring biscuits served on board. "Not even a tiny hint of salmon! The scandal! The injustice!" After what felt like seventeen million years, they landed in Auckland, New Zealand and headed straight to the Great Marmalade Trade Show. Mrs Higgins set up her stall, her jars of Petunia Marmalade glowing like little golden suns. Reza lounged beside her like a furry judge, sniffing everyone else's marmalade with supreme disdain. SNIFF! SNIFF! "Amateur hour", he muttered.

Then, along came King Kiwi, ruler of the fabulous Feather Palace, wearing a cloak that sparkled like a rainbow and a crown made of shimmering feathers. He tasted Mrs Higgins's Petunia Marmalade and his eyes lit up like fireworks on New Year's Eve. "SCRUMPTIOUS! DIVINE! ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT!" he shouted, gobbling another massive spoonful. "I'll buy every single jar in your entire shop!" He handed Mrs Higgins a sack of gold coins that clinked and clanked, then leaned in with a grin. "You and your absolutely splendid cat must visit my palace immediately!" Reza's ears perked up and his whiskers twitched with excitement. "A palace? FINALLY! Somewhere befitting my royal magnificence!" he thought, already planning his complete takeover.

At the magnificent Feather Palace, King Kiwi led them through rooms filled with sparkling treasures and rainbow-coloured tapestries. But then he sighed deeply. "I'm afraid we have a rather unusual situation", he said sadly. "You see, these mice that live here — they're not ordinary mice. They're our Sacred Temple Mice! They've been blessing this palace for hundreds of years. We love them dearly, but..." He pointed to his nibbled sparkly cloaks and crumb-covered breakfast table. "They're rather... enthusiastic about sharing everything!"

Reza's eyes gleamed with wicked delight. "Sacred shmacred! Mice are mice and I am the ULTIMATE mouse-catching machine!" Without listening to another word, he puffed out his chest and declared, "Fear not, Your Majesty! I shall rid your palace of every single mouse!" And with that, he zoomed through the palace like a furry tornado. SWISH! FLICK! ZAP! His paws swatted, his tail twirled magnificently and the poor little mice squealed in terror. SQUEAK! HELP! RUN AWAY!

But just as Reza was feeling tremendously pleased with himself, King Kiwi came running in, looking absolutely horrified! "STOP! STOP!" he cried, waving his feathery arms frantically. "Those are our HOLY mice! They bring us good luck and blessings! Chasing them away is the most terrible bad luck imaginable!" Reza skidded to a halt, his fur still puffed up with pride, but his face suddenly looking rather worried. "Holy mice?" he squeaked, his voice much smaller than usual.

King Kiwi nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so. Now we must perform the Sacred Cheese Ceremony to apologise to the Mouse Spirits and ask them to return!" For the next hour, Reza had to sit very still while King Kiwi placed tiny pieces of the finest cheese around the palace, chanting: "Oh great Mouse Spirits, please forgive our fluffy friend!" Reza's ears drooped with embarrassment as he mumbled, "Sorry, little mice. I didn't know you were holy."

Slowly, one by one, the brave little mice peeped out from their hiding places. They looked at Reza suspiciously, then at the delicious cheese, then back at Reza. Finally, the smallest mouse squeaked, "We forgive you, Big Fluffy Cat, but no more chasing!" Reza nodded solemnly, though he couldn't help muttering under his breath, "Holy mice. What's next? Sacred spiders?"

King Kiwi was so relieved that he gave Mrs Higgins a lovely parting gift — not gold or jewels, but a beautiful book about New Zealand's customs and traditions. "So you'll know about our special ways!" he said kindly. On the ship home — because Reza still refused another plane ride, declaring, "Boats are more dignified and I need time to recover from this embarrassment!" — he spent the entire journey reading the book and muttering, "Holy mice, sacred beetles, blessed worms... honestly, how is a cat supposed to keep track?"

Back in England, Reza settled onto his favourite sunny cushion with a dramatic sigh. "Well", he announced to a passing butterfly, "I may not have conquered New Zealand, but I DID learn something important." He paused thoughtfully, then added with typical Reza confidence, "Next time I'm travelling, I'm definitely reading the guidebook FIRST. A cat of my intelligence should have thought of that!" He stretched magnificently and yawned. "Now, where's my afternoon salmon? All this international diplomacy has made me frightfully peckish!"

Night night. Sleep tight.