Story 49: Reza Shadey and the MeowSpace Mission
One lazy afternoon, Reza Shadey, the grandest, fluffiest, most spectacularly sneaky Persian cat in all of England (just ask him!), was sprawled across Mrs Higgins's sofa like a furry emperor.
His glorious tail swished lazily and his emerald eyes were half-closed — until the telly blared something that made his ears twitch like tiny satellite dishes.
"DING-DONG!"
"Next up", boomed the telly, "Ecat Meowsk of VeryHigh-X unveils his daring plan to send the first cat to the moon!"
Reza's eyes snapped open wider than saucers.
"The MOON?" he yowled, nearly tumbling off the sofa in a fluff-tastrophe.
On the screen, a scruffy grey cat with wild whiskers and a manic grin stood proudly, a tiny kitten perched on his shoulder like a fuzzy astronaut.
"I am Ecat Meowsk", the cat declared, "and I'm building WhiskerStation, the ultimate Cat Moon Base!"
Reza's whiskers quivered with outrage.
"That scruffy upstart? Stealing MY destiny?" he huffed.
"I am FAR more magnificent! If anyone is building a moon base, it is ME! Bigger! Fluffier! With a deluxe sardine buffet!"
With a dramatic MEEEOW!, he leapt off the sofa and zoomed to the garden, tail held high like a royal banner.
It was time to launch Feline X — the greatest space empire ever (in his head, at least).
By teatime, Reza had summoned his loyal (and slightly unwilling) crew: Penelope, Ginger Tom and Tiger.
They gathered by the rose bushes, looking rather sceptical.
"You are going WHERE, Rezzi?"Penelope asked, delicately licking a paw, her fluffy white fur glowing in the sun.
"The MOON!"Reza proclaimed, puffing out his chest so much he looked like a chocolate-coloured pom-pom.
"A five-star lunar resort! Plush beds! Endless biscuits! I shall be the King of the Cosmos!"
Ginger Tom yawned so wide you could see yesterday's breakfast.
"Sounds like work, mate. Any snacks involved?"
"Sardines", Reza replied smoothly, knowing Tom's weakness.
"I'm in", Tom grunted, suddenly wide awake.
Tiger bounced like a furry ping-pong ball.
"Can I fly the rocket? With goggles? Zoom-zoom!"
"You are Chief Meowstronaut!"Reza declared grandly.
"Now, fetch rocket parts, my minions!"
The cats sneaked to the recycling bin, a treasure trove of wonderful junk.
Reza gave it a mighty shove.
CLATTER!
BANG!
The bin toppled over, spilling cardboard boxes, biscuit tins, yoghurt pots and a wobbly salad bowl.
"Perfect!"Reza purred, strutting like a general.
"Build my masterpiece!"
Ginger Tom rolled a biscuit tin, muttering about naps.
Tiger plonked the salad bowl on his head like a helmet.
"I'm a space kitty!" he giggled.
Penelope sighed but dragged a cardboard tube across the grass.
"Why do I always get roped into Rezzi's nonsense?" she muttered.
All afternoon, Reza "supervised" (which mostly meant lounging on a cushion) while his team stuck bits together with tape, string and Mrs Higgins's glitter glue.
The rocket, proudly named Pawpollo One, was a wobbly tower of cardboard and sparkles, leaning like a tipsy giraffe.
"It is... unique", Penelope said, raising one eyebrow.
"It is MAGNIFICENT!"Reza roared, ignoring the worrying creaks.
"To the launchpad!"
The launchpad was Mrs Higgins's old trampoline.
Reza climbed into the rocket's "cockpit" (a cereal box with a hole in it).
"All systems go! Countdown!"
"Three!" squeaked Tiger, bouncing with excitement.
"Two!" rumbled Ginger Tom, eyeing a stray biscuit nearby.
"One!" meowed Penelope, already bracing herself.
"LIFTOFF!"Reza yowled.
Tiger gave the trampoline a mighty bounce.
BOING!
Pawpollo One soared — about a foot — then...
CRASH!
FLUMP!
CLONK!
The rocket toppled straight into Mrs Higgins's prized petunias, glitter exploding everywhere like a sparkly volcano.
A moment later, Reza's head poked out of the wreckage, a cushion stuck to his ears.
"Ahem!" he said.
"A successful test flight!"
Penelope peered in.
"Are you alright, Rezzi?"
"Never better!"Reza replied, shaking petals from his fur, which now glittered like a disco ball.
"We have gathered very important data!"
Ginger Tom snorted.
"Looks like you gathered a flowerbed."
Just then, Mrs Higgins appeared, hands on hips.
She looked at the squashed petunias, the glittery trampoline and Tiger, who was still wearing the salad bowl.
She sighed... then smiled.
"Oh, Reza, you silly sausage", she chuckled, scooping him up.
"No moon for you today — but definitely bedtime."
As she carried him inside, Reza mumbled sleepily,
"Feline X will rise again... Mars next... just need to scam — er, secure funding..."
He yawned, already drifting off, his sneaky, bossy boots brain still full of grand ideas.
Outside, Penelope shook her head.
"Typical Rezzi chaos", she purred.
Ginger Tom stretched.
"At least we got a laugh, eh?"
Tiger bounced happily, the salad bowl wobbling.
"And it was super fun! Can we crash again tomorrow?"
A very important message from Mrs Higgins:
Trampolines are for bouncing, not for launching spaceships, toys or pets. Always play safely and keep four paws on the ground.
Night night. Sleep tight.