Muezza and the Calico had gotten into quite a disagreement prior to sharing shelter in the alcove in the stone library non-cats could not and would not access.
First of all, Muezza was more commonly known by human beings as “Orange Dreamsicle” and his beautiful kittens were seen as the ultimate sign of alumni loyalty to the university. Muezza did not realize he was permitted to stay “intact” because he was an unusually attentive father, and all his kittens inherited his intelligence, docility, sweet temperament, and high tolerance to human manipulation as well as his beautiful orange-Creamsicle fur proving to be Uber dominant above most other local cat genetics.
At the end of kitten season, have-no-heart live traps were often left around campus to traffic the kittens-…I mean, *cough*, to the loving homes of dearly graduated students with totally normal lives who also totally don’t dress cats up on costumes, place them on camera, then sing to them for several hours at a time for likes on social media.
But maybe thats a school tradition thing- because cats are supposed to sing together until human beings throw shoes or whole raw fish at us to stop. They wish they were cool like us cats.
Anyway. Muezza says that Mr. Fish needs to stop biting human beings and be more like his kittens. Mr. Fish counters that he has raised every kitten he adopted to hunt in the fields and never ever rely on human beings for anything whatsoever for any reason and bite them to prevent ever being hidden in the tuna drawer by anyone.
So. Muezza inquired of Mr. Fish, the Calico, “Why do you stay here if you Hate humans?”
“BECAUSE I HAVE A BAYAT TO SCHOPENHAUER” he whines with his whole chest. “He is here…so here am I.”
Schopenhauer covered his lynxy ears and hid under an embroidered pillow Mr. Fish stole for him prior out of ear pain and embarrassment.
…Open human type affection is unseemly in libraries.
“There is nothing wrong with caring for your clowder, however Your human given names are not very healthy,” said Orange Dreamsicle, “Surely you can find something better to be called over ‘Mr. Fish’ & ‘Schopenhauer’…‽”
“Ibn Arabi, I want to be named after a better human than Schopenhauer,” stated the fluffy gray cat immediately. “Hey, little one,” Ibn Arabi said to his companion, “Pick a new name”
“How about Ibn Arabi?”
“Funny. Okay, Little Calico Jack is called “Echo” then”
“How about Calico?”
“Human beings going to just call me ‘Mr. Fish’ no matter what” said the Calico miserably.
“See? This is why you need human beings. I like “Calico”… If you either had a collar or had enough articles written about you in human papers, they would never call you ‘Mr. Fish’ again. Imagine -” said Orange Dreamsicle, “-A world where they RESPECT you. Maybe getting a bite from tiny Calico becomes the next hazing. Greeks tattoo your Fang prints unto their hands as a symbol of fraternity….!”
“That sounds horrid in every way, Orange Dreamsicle.”
Ibn Arabi didn’t say anything at all, he was very busy enjoying the only full sunbeam in the alcove and it would be incredibly bad Adab to disturb him; he was smiling gently on the warm side, his silver furs looking golden in warm & temporary glow. He wasn’t listening to the younger, more orange cats argue too closely.
Ibn Arabi was purring and reflecting with gratitude his fur had zero orange whatsoever except what rubbed off on him from loved ones…which indicated his intellect remained fully sound and his reputation as a very intelligent and philosophical sort of cat intact.
He was feeling so warm and magnanimous, Ibn Arabi said to Calico & Orange Dreamsicle:
“Do you not both know the cat that belongs to the human chaplain? Why do you not get him to mediate…also, go get Bird the cat from the feild. It is getting cold and even Bird needs to come indoors.
So, Orange Dreamsicle and Calico left as soon as all the human students were inside to retrieve the other cats for the feline Quorum as Ibn Arabi finally enjoyed his sunbeam in peace in quiet away from all kittens.
We follow Calico because he is best identified by his foxy colored tail he keeps boldly erect above the Indian paintbrush grasses and Prairie weeds to find Bird first, then the Chaplain.
Bird looks exactly like Orange Creamsicle except gray instead of Creamsicle orange. He was called ‘Bird’ because after years of refusing to eat a single avian, they decided to become his friends and attack human beings that tried to abduct him further after already notching his ear, stealing his family and putting him through surgeries. Crows eat rats as easily as they enjoy peanuts. Bird liked to feed the carrion birds, and sometimes, share with other cats.
“Asalaam Alaykum wa Rahmatullāhi wa barakātuh, Bird. Orange Dreamsicle, the theater cat that looks like a bigger, Orange version of you, would like to argue that we need to learn to be nice to humans”
“WaAlaykum Salaams, He’s brainwashed into Stockholm Syndrome, but still, I respect him greatly as a cat scholar, and I will listen to him….if. and only if. I get the closest spot to the heating grate and don’t have to cuddle with anyone.”
“No one wants to be bitten by you, Bird. We will meet you in the stone library.”
So Bird scampered off, invisible in the weeds as well as the campus, his gray and cream fur blending into every biome…as Calico boldly scampered to the local prison.
“Oh look, it’s meine Hilfen, Mr. Fish the Calico,” said the prison chaplain who put out a big dish of oatmilk as well as a can of chicken paté…. The prison chaplain was actually quite the mystic and understood cats that were equally strategically and politically valuable as human beings.
As a result of this conclusion, he had had tamed a bobcat he found in Ephrata until it was docile as a ragdoll, called it a “pixiebob”, put him in a police therapy cat vest, and absolutely let him come and go as he pleased.
His name was Fylgia, and no one ever believed he was a dangerous bobcat. Just a very stripey housecat with a horrible tail accident.
So, Like the man who put him and 17 other cats in prison chaplain vests, Fylgia the Bobcat was a cat chaplain. [Flygia still was not bigger than Ibn Arabi if you included Ibn Arabi’s fluff.]
So. They met inside the alcove and instead of five cats present, Calico counted six.
He counted himself first, then Ibn Arabi looked bemused but uninvolved, Orange Creamsicle sat upright with patience & agitation, Bird reclined against the opposite wall entirely bored, and in the middle of the room, was Chaplain Fylgia the Bobcat in a Vest facing down the perfect purebred cat of the chaplain of the local mosque.
This cat was named Zahir, and he had perfect Adab. His fur was a shiny cream color and his ears, paws, face, and tail were a perfect contrast of chocolate- his tail was as plumed as a Persian’s and his eyes were very dark, but he could not see very well. It did not matter because the chaplain fed him lutein and a special diet anyway.
The problem was now that Old Man Tunafish was now outside setting out Traps for Calico Jack and giving lectures about why proper cats, when trained and isolated properly, enjoy being locked in drawers while making such a loud commotion outside, despite the fact that Calico had been outside all day retrieving Bird from the field and Fylgia from the prison, the louder the man outside called every name for the Calico, he, the tiny calico simply burrowed himself into his best friend, Ibn Arabi’s fur and then pulled the varigated silver tail of his same friend over himself completely and tried to block everyone else entirely.
Bird agreed to ignoring human beings entirely and sat directly on the heating grate, complaining loudly about why human beings were inferior to cats and how he, Bird, was locked in the medical dorms and nearly had his spine vivisected by students barely competent for chiropractic study much less veterinary neurology…Bird’s loud caterwalling about his own life problems definitely drowned out the outside human. Fylgia the Bobcat slipped outside and intentionally distracted all other humans students & guards with his impressive vest and willingness to be pet as Calico Jack continued to make ridiculous confessions to Ibn Arabi about never ever leaving while human beings still live and not falling asleep until the calico could match the frequency of Ibn Arabi’s purring.
Orange Dreamsicle sighed and slinked outside with Zahir
“Salaam Murshīd Tuna Fish man,” Said Zahir the Chaplain Cat, “It seems you place many cans outside this wall after you trap many cats, that seems odd you seek the feral blotchy one without adab.”
“My current favorite kitten escaped from the drawer before he was properly trained to no longer trust anyone at all outside of what I say is good for him” said old man tuna fish, “other humans do not wish cats in my building”
“Pity” said Orange Dreamsicle, “Makes sense though….I really disliked that drawer.”
“That feral calico is different than you & dangerous to the status quo, you ungrateful Orange Moggie. Also,,He appreciated me and my company.” said old man tunafish
“Naam, but did he enjoy the drawer…?” Inquires the Chaplains cat, smoothly…. [whom No one would ever place him in a drawer because he was perfectly behaved.]
“It does not matter if he likes the drawer or not, that is the only way I can keep a cat in my office. You remember that, Muezza. You lived in my drawer for years and now look at you! Head cat of the entire Theater! Name in All Lights Every Semester! They build entire productions out of you, my boy!”
Both Zahir the chocolate seal point Chaplains cat with the perfect tail and Muezza Manx the Orange Creamsicle cat just stared at Old Man Tunafish.
“Calico Kitten will miss my dark drawer of tuna fish” Said old man tuna. There were several cans opened, barely munched, and likely only by rodents.
“The little calico is velcro to that moody Persian again.” stated Orange Dreamsicle
“Ha! My Loyal Muezza still tells me everything.” said the old man, “If we remove the Persian, then he will return to enduring human beings!”
Orange Dreamsicle, out of deep caring, actually stayed in place so old man Tunafish focused on him instead of seeking the other kitties sleeping in the moonlight cast by the scrap of window onto a small cave of a stone library cave, inaccessible at present, to the further horrors of human intervention
“Why can’t cats just live with cats without humans trying to shove them into drawers?” asked Zahir mildly as he innocently cleaned his face.
“Because they cannot survive without me” stated old man tuna proudly.
“Little Calico runs a feral hunting clowder in the adjacent fields with that other cat the Persian adopted, the grey and cream that looks just like Dreamsicle…pretty sure they eat vermin.”
“Bird. His name is Angry Bird, and he is no longer allowed at this college… and dead rat is less attractive than canned tuna to anyone. “
“To you,perhaps, Did you also lock Bird in a drawer, Human?”
“No, that was an act of Cair. And you, dear Muezza, should not be skeptical or ungrateful of my methods”
“Old Man tuna fish, you have never once been locked in a drawer, fed mercury fish and only allowed to shit in a box as no one else could hear you scream except for other cats that could do nothing to help you.
“You cats severely overestimate my humanity,” replied old man tunafish who then revealed he was not human after all, simply painfully shorn of all his catness.
The Chronicals of Alaraf 