It was kitten season on campus, & the Dean had purchased dozens of fresh metal traps filled with fancy feast paté, purified water, and crunchy bits shielded from rain, Kindly, with fine umbrella fabric to catch every stupid kitten.
[Surely little kittens are totally not traumatized in small cages removed from their cat families and placed with horrible human beings at an exceptional profit.]
Although Muezza Manx, Aka Orange Creamsicle, was indeed an orange kitty, he had grown wise with years and learned no matter how many Traps he triggered “by accident” he was simply “a fluffy boy seeking open snacks” rather than correctly ascertained to be protecting his countless kittens.
A human investigator was now on campus examining the feline neurology department on campus closely, and that investigator was named Officer Khawla, who died a little bit inside every time he put on the blue uniform for his $15/hr campus security cover job as the investigation continued, primarily after dark, patrolling horrible scientific places Dhikr beads, flashlight, bodycam, PETA BFF on radio, and not nearly enough cat treats for the little convicts wired with electrodes and blinded by “Science.”
The Dean was an old friend of the family who retired from SIS into the gentler life of manipulating students to torture cats with isolation, far too little stimulation, and painful scientific rituals at least three to five times a day.
Other departments clearly objected, primarily in liberal arts and political sciences. Like the cats, they were simply isolated, blinded from awareness of further experiments, as each new kitten birthed anywhere near campus was live trapped and wired with implants and recievers that made each cat not only a more effective listening device than a bugged & keylogged phone, but also opened the feline mind and body to subtle manipulation that allowed for augmented cats to remotely induced agitation or calm.
….and the worst part was Alumni were paying hundreds, if not thousands, for the finest, fluffiest surveillance of their own prior university to scrape them for marketable information to use the cats to experiment upon the students, remotely, by simply influencing the behavior of a cat, and then using the imbedded receivers to transmit the information directly back to Dean.
…Whom also had taken control of every operating system of every student, faculty, and other employee or affiliate anywhere affiliated with his territory like some sort of territorial human lion with boundary issues.
It was now the 6th time today Investigator Khawla had to release the fluffy orange and white unofficial school mascot from a livetrap near the library, and officer Khawla was now fed up.
Instead of shaking the handsome orange manx out of the trap and letting him run free as per usual, the feline convict was seized, held with all four sets of toebeans in the air, and unceremoniously carried by the officer the college students affectionately named “Officer K-pop” due to his unusually youthful appearance, $25 haircut, and love of Jisoo music, into his office which smelled of incense and boss cologne.
Once inside the darkened office, the very next thing that Muezza the Manx smelled…was Ibn Arabi, and sure enough, under the desk to the left side was a little blue cat bed absolutely coated in his epic Persian hairs next to a porcelain set of bowls which the Officer brought to the top of the desk, filled one dish with half a bottle of Evian, and pulled out a Styrofoam from a mini fridge in the corner to place a large chunk of leftover salmon, formerly abandoned on wilted lettuce, crushed into the second blue bowl.
As the orange Creamsicle cat munched away, the officer ran his phone over every major joint of the animal with his cellphone, took screenshots of the results, then removed a small white pen looking device from his pocket with a tip that lit up bright red each time it found a current.
As the pen was run along the sides of the cat, continuous circuit lines were detected down the spine, across the cranium, and along major meridians and joint access points across the body.
And despite there being several IP addresses attached to chips subdermally implanted over most of his body, the one chip he lacked was one of common veterinary identification, between the shoulder blades, like typical civilian cats.
“Hello, is this the Ombudsman’s office? This is campus security and we have apprehended the orange maurader yet again and have him under our custody. Upon evaluating the suspect, it was discovered he does not have a formal ownership chip betwixt his shoulder blades. Can you please tell me whom is primarily responsible for his care? Oh, I see, Thank you.”
As he munched his salmon, he felt a few headpats.
“Hello, Theater department? Campus Security- Is anyone there claiming ownership of Big Orange Cat? Only during play season? Just students…Yes, I will accept the transfer…. WaAlaykum waSalaam Chaplain! I was just transferred from Theater to you, it was suggested the orange cat may be yours..
No…? He is merely a friend? Do you think anyone would mind if I co-opted him for campus security? Well! Barakallahu Feek to you as well, Sir- That is very generous of you and I am actually feeding him salmon. I hope to have him properly and comfortably outfitted to prevent further incidents shortly.”
Then, the officer hung up the phone, went to the filing cabinet, and pulled out an extremely rough envelope filled to the brim with every variety of “Alaraph campus police” Badges and pins… then had a better idea.
As he continued to eat, Muezza could hear the printer and the sound of tape. Yet, Salmon was far more interesting.
As Soon as the salmon was eliminated, however, he found himself picked up again and placed on the floor. In front of him were 4 equidistant print-outs.
The first had a large swirly ice cream on a stick and the words “Orange Dreamsicle”
The next was written in plaintext black script “John The Cat”
Next an all red sign that simply said “BIG RED MANX” in all caps
Finally, a simple Crescent moon with the name “Muezza” written in English then as موزة in Arabic
The orange cat considered each sign carefully, then pounced on the one with the name “Muezza”…
So the officer brought out new signs, with the same names bit changed the backgrounds. This time, the name Muezza was written on the red sign all in caps as BIG RED MANX was prior, and still, the cat chose the name Muezza.
Finally, the officer laid out four signs with the names written simply on each, without adornment. The cat chose “Muezza” again.
The next test, like the one prior she set up the names unadorned but removed the name “Muezza” and replaced it with “Mr. Fox”… The cat laid down and did not move.
…Finally, the officer placed three entirely new names in plain font plus the name “Muezza”… and with great confidence, Muezza chose his name.
“Well, Muezza- you have proven competent and literate enough to serve as your own advocate. Choose what badge you want to wear and we will figure out together how to best fit it to you. We can get you a little vest like that bobcat owned by the ex-history professor at the prison or we can just put a little badge on a harness or collar. You decide, little dude.”
So Muezza climbed into the envelope and pulled out a typical sized patch as well a lapel pin more often given to old retirees who served overseas.
“Guess you need some sort of uniform, let’s go find you something appropriate.”
So, the Investigator offered his shoulders to the cat, who curled around his neck like furry orange Creamsicle scarf, and the officer punched out for a long lunch to the local petstore to take advantage of the post Halloween sales on cat costumes.
When they returned, Muezza was wearing his lapel pin that said “OFFICER” on a breakaway collar and an adorable little hat with holes for his ears that newly sported his officer badge. In the car, a little buttonhole camera was attached to his collar,
“There you go Officer Muezza, now everyone knows you work for campus surveillance,” said the Investigator as he picked up Muezza, once again, all four paws in the air, as they returned to the office to find the Dean Himself sitting behind the desk.
“Hello Sir, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“What are you doing with the campus mascot?”
“I had determined no one had taken priority over his care, and after making several phone calls, Muezza is now a proud member of my campus security”
“You don’t even technically work for campus security, Murīd. You were supposed to help me expose the corruption of our institution and help me shut this blasted place down”
“Animal rights issues are human rights issues, Sir. Respectfully speaking. There is no reason this university should be engaged in illegal pet trade and augmentation of moggies.”
“You stole my cat.” he said plaintively.
“You kept him in a drawer in your office”
“It made him docile and friendly.”
“The same thing made others so feral they were put down.”
“I only tried to save the best ones from being culled or subject to further experiments; if you cannot understand and must persecute me as well for necessary abuses so be it… Truth remains, you stole at least two of my cats and it feels like blackmail.” He stated attempting his best to speak without emotional affect.
“I cannot steal what cannot be owned- if a cat can read, then any claim of ‘ownership’ is clear enslavement”
“The cats are more like Friends or Servants.”
“Not locked in a drawer with tunafish or wired with surveillance tech to spy on students, alumni, and faculty. You KNEW What I would find here, respectfully speaking. If you were in my position, what would you do?”
“In my position,” offered Muezza, “I would ask questions about transferrance of consciousness studies between humans & animals during periods of intense concentration/disassociation sessions, multiverse theory, and the idea that the written word has the power to influence realities Politcally, Mystically, and Intellectually if the correct audience is reading these words in a receptive frame of mind.”
“Wow, that was really a mouthful for an orange cat to say.” said Officer Khawla
“That’s one of my cats” said the Dean of Islamic studies.
“This cat can’t even sleep in the same building as you long term, Sir. Your office doesn’t allow cats. Otherwise, we wouldn’t keep tracking them to your drawers.”
“Are you implying my drawers are filled with cats?”
…and was met with silence.
“So. You aren’t going to give me my cat back…?”
And both humans turned to look at Muezza who looked adorable in his little officer hat and simply cleaned his face with his fluffy paw.
“I am utterly and totally powerless regarding my own fate” deferred Muezza.
“You are absolutely ghoulish, Alex… You cannot communicate by making men into cats like Circe the Corrections Officer and creating elaborate metaphors instead of cryptically commenting on my social media…”
Investigator Khawla replied ” …like awkward antivillians trying out our new ovaltine decoder rings to talk about cat husbandry.”
“Meow” replied Muezza. “I am a cat”
The Dean of the university gestured wildly at the Investigator dressed as campus police, TO the cat:
“This is also a cat, Muezza. So long as you are sleeping in this office fat and lazy on Salmon, you lose track each time he escapes to the library with Schopenhauer. Astaghfirullah, I am not turning you back into a man if you keep getting seduced by your surveillance targets with adorable hats & headpats”
sure enough, officer Khawla had escaped while the Dean argued with an orange cat… and went home to his alcove adjacent to a library that had a nice heating grate, a window, and loved ones.
Muezza would find his way back eventually or end up in the tuna drawer again.
The Chronicals of Alaraf 