Story 93: Reza Shadey... It's Time to Talk
Snuggle down, little ones. Tonight's story is about Reza Shadey — a very clever, very fluffy Persian cat who believed that listening to other people was perfectly acceptable — provided they were saying something sensible about him.
It began one chilly February morning when Mrs Higgins switched on the radio in the kitchen.
"Today is Time to Talk Day", said the cheerful voice on the radio. "A chance to check in with one another, share how we're really feeling, and really listen."
Reza's ears twitched.
"Talk?" he said thoughtfully. "Share feelings? Ridiculous. Feelings are terribly unreliable things and should be stored neatly in labelled jars — like premium pâté."
He narrowed his eyes.
"The public clearly requires emotional guidance", he announced gravely to a passing pigeon. "Fortunately, Doctor Reza Shadey — Licensed Conversation Specialist, Thought Leader, and Senior Feelings Consultant — has arrived."
The pigeon flew away.
Reza took this as agreement.
Within the hour, the garden had been transformed. Well... mostly one slightly muddy corner near the bird bath.
A slightly crooked cardboard sign now stood beside a garden bench. It read:
REZA SHADEY'S PROFESSIONAL TALKING CENTRE
Expert Advice • Emotional Support • Premium Opinions
Below, in much smaller writing:
No refunds.
Reza sat proudly upon a cushion, wearing Mrs Higgins's old reading glasses balanced dramatically on his nose. Beside him sat a clipboard covered in mysterious squiggles and several entirely unnecessary charts. One pie chart simply said:
REZA — 98% CORRECT
EVERYONE ELSE — IMPROVEMENT OPPORTUNITY
Tiger bounced over first.
"Ooooh!" he gasped. "What's this?"
Reza folded his paws together importantly.
"A safe space, Tiger. You may now discuss your feelings with a trained professional."
Tiger sat down at once.
The cardboard sign wobbled alarmingly beside him, but Reza pretended not to notice.
"Oh! Okay! Sometimes I get worried when loud noises happen. Like fireworks. Or vacuum cleaners. Or when Mrs Higgins sneezes really loudly."
Reza nodded solemnly. "Interesting." He scribbled nonsense onto the clipboard. "My diagnosis is simple."
Tiger blinked.
"You require bravery."
"Oh", said Tiger.
"Fortunately", Reza continued, puffing up, "I happen to be extraordinarily brave."
Tiger smiled politely. "That is nice, Reza."
"And therefore", Reza said importantly, "you should probably think about me whenever frightened."
Tiger considered this very seriously.
"Okay! I'll imagine you wearing armour made of fish fingers!"
Before Reza could respond to this alarming image, Penelope padded over. She glanced at the sign.
"'Premium Opinions'?" she asked dryly.
"Professional terminology", said Reza.
Penelope sat beside him. "Well then, Doctor Rezzi. Sometimes when people are upset, they don't need fixing. They just need someone to listen."
Reza nodded confidently. "Correct. Which is exactly what I am doing."
Penelope tilted her head. "You haven't listened to a single thing Tiger said."
Reza blinked. "I listened excellently."
"You interrupted him three times."
"That", said Reza, "was advanced guidance."
Penelope sighed the sigh of someone conducting yet another moral audit of Reza Shadey.
Just then, Ginger Tom wandered over looking gloriously sleepy.
"Wot's all this then?" he yawned.
"Therapeutic conversation services", Reza explained. "Please describe your emotional condition."
Tom thought for a moment.
"Bit peckish... emotionally, I suppose."
Reza sat upright and scribbled furiously.
"Ah yes. Mild hunger fatigue."
"Nah", said Tom. "Just fancy a sausage."
Reza tapped the clipboard. "And emotionally?"
Tom shrugged.
"Mostly alright, mate. Sometimes a bit tired. Sometimes cheerful. Sometimes grumpy if someone wakes me up too early."
Reza frowned.
"Hm."
Tom looked at him kindly.
"You alright, though, Reza? You've been a bit funny all morning."
Reza froze.
"Funny?"
Tiger nodded enthusiastically.
"You've been zooming around loads."
"And talking to pigeons", added Penelope.
"An' wearin' reading glasses upside down", said Tom.
Reza reached up in horror.
The glasses were indeed upside down.
He quickly fixed them.
"That is beside the point."
But suddenly everyone was looking at him. Not in an annoying way. Not in a laughing way. In a sort of quiet, waiting way.
Tiger shuffled closer.
"Are you okay, Reza?"
Reza opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"Well", he said carefully, "executive leadership can occasionally involve certain... pressures."
He lowered his voice.
"Being unusually brilliant is, frankly... rather exhausting."
Nobody laughed.
Penelope sat quietly beside him. Ginger Tom tore off a bit of sausage and nudged it gently towards him. Tiger placed an imaginary tuna beside the real sausage.
"For emotional support", he whispered.
Reza looked at them.
Nobody was arguing. Nobody was demanding anything. They were simply... there.
A deeply unsettling experience.
Perhaps, he thought, talking was not entirely ridiculous. Perhaps listening mattered too.
A troubling possibility.
Fortunately, he recovered almost immediately.
He straightened up proudly.
"Excellent!" he declared. "This emotional support initiative has been highly successful. Mostly due to my outstanding leadership."
Penelope rolled her eyes.
"Of course it has, Rezzi."
Mrs Higgins opened the back door and stopped.
There sat Reza in her reading glasses, beside a collapsing cardboard sign, surrounded by cats and half a sausage.
"Oh, Reza", she chuckled. "Are you playing counsellor now, you silly sausage?"
Reza straightened at once.
"Professional consultation services", he corrected.
Mrs Higgins smiled.
"Well, sometimes talking helps, my loves. But listening helps too."
Reza flicked his tail.
"I was listening perfectly", he said. "I simply happened to be speaking at the same time."
Tiger giggled. Tom nearly dropped his sausage laughing. Penelope just shook her head.
At that exact moment, the cardboard sign finally gave up, tipped sideways, and collapsed face-first into the muddy flowerbed.
Reza glanced at it.
"Hmph", he muttered. "Clearly the infrastructure requires improvement."
He puffed out his chest.
"But next year, I am organising 'International Time to Listen to Me Day'."
Night night. Sleep tight.