Story 50: The Curious Case of Reza Shadey and Mr Snuggles
One blustery afternoon, Reza Shadey, the world's most important (and self-declared) Persian cat, was sulking on the windowsill. Not because the birds had outsmarted him again. Not even because Mrs Higgins had put a stop to his latest business venture, "Reza's Royal Rind-stones" (shiny bits of cheese peel he was selling as jewels). No — this time, it was serious.
"They don't appreciate me", Reza huffed, watching his friends play tag in the garden without him. "Penelope says I'm 'a bit much'. Ginger Tom called me 'up to something'. I am not up to something. I'm always up to everything. There's a fundamental difference."
If only they knew about my brilliant Ant-Farms for Goldfish plan!
Reza paced. Then he pounced on an idea so brilliant it nearly made his whiskers curl. "What if I became... nice? Just for a little while. Long enough to win their trust. Then I can launch my new line of Deluxe Ant-Farms for Goldfish. It's a guaranteed winner!"
Down in his secret laboratory (which was actually Mrs Higgins's garden shed, amongst the rusty trowels and cobwebs), Reza tinkered. He boiled strange leaves, he stirred with a twig, he sniffed the concoction suspiciously. At last, the potion was ready. It fizzed, it sparkled, and it smelled faintly of cinnamon, wet socks, and mild regret.
"Bottoms up", he purred, and took a delicate sip.
POOF! FIZZLE-BANG!
In a puff of lavender-scented smoke, Reza vanished — and someone entirely different appeared. He had the same fluffy fur, but his eyes twinkled with kindness, and he wore a very unfortunate, very pink, spectral bow.
"Oh, hello world!" sang the cheerful cat. "I'm Mr Snuggles! Would anyone fancy a cuddle and perhaps a slice of my freshly baked tuna cake?"
Mr Snuggles trotted off into the garden. He gently combed Penelope's magnificent fluff, polished a smudge off Ginger Tom's tail, bounced with Tiger without trying to be the 'bounciest', and even told Mrs Higgins that her petunias were "an absolute inspiration to us all".
The neighbourhood cats were baffled. But they all adored Mr Snuggles. He was friendly. He was polite. He didn't try to charge anyone for "complimentary hugs with a mandatory service fee".
This is working perfectly! Soon they'll be begging for my ant-farms!
But deep inside the fluffiness, Reza was not pleased at all.
Later that night, Mr Snuggles sipped warm milk and wrote in his kindness diary about the joy of sharing. But when the clock struck midnight —
POOF! SPLUTTER-SNEEZE!
Reza was back, shuddering with horror. "ARGH! What was that? I think I complimented that ugly dog on his enthusiastic barking! I baked...! This cuddly madness must never happen again."
He tried to destroy the potion. But every time Reza got properly cross or his schemes got extra sneaky —
POOF! POP-WHIZZLE!
Out popped Mr Snuggles. He immediately gave away Reza's secret stash of emergency biscuits. He read bedtime stories to passing hedgehogs. He even kissed a frog, wishing it well on its journey.
"He's ruining my reputation", growled Reza, reappearing later. "If this carries on, I'll have to get a proper job." The thought was so horrifying, he nearly fainted.
One day, a terrible squeak came from the old oak tree. Penelope had climbed too high and was stuck! Everyone panicked. barked uselessly. Penelope's human was about to call the Fire Brigade.
Reza, seeing the genuine fright in her eyes, felt a strange twitch. Without a single thought for profit or glory, he scampered up the tree, nudged her gently towards a lower branch, and guided her down. It happened so fast, there wasn't even time for a POOF!
Penelope nuzzled him, purring loudly. "Oh, Rezzi! That was... genuinely brave and kind of you."
Reza blinked. No potion. No pink bow. Just him. He felt terribly confused. "Hmph", he sniffed, trying to regain his composure. "You were ruining the view. And you owe me a very large sardine."
That night, Reza locked the remaining potion in an old biscuit tin. On it, he scribbled, "Definitely Not Evil Plans (For Emergencies Only)"". He tucked it away at the very back of the shed. Just in case.
The next morning, the neighbourhood cats awoke to a wonderful surprise. On their doorsteps were mysterious trays of home-baked, fish-shaped biscuits. There was no note. Just a single, sparkly pink bow left sitting on the garden wall.
Reza Shadey, of course, denied everything... while secretly licking fishy crumbs from his whiskers.
Night night. Sleep tight.