The Lost Persian Cat
by Margaret Schill
 On the night of October
16, 2003, I was in my
back yard trying to befriend a stray tom cat (Neil, who happily did get befriended and adopted out two months
later). He left the
yard, and I soon heard a cat scream in the nearby church parking
lot. Thinking that Neil got hurt, I ran over and saw him
chasing a little white cat. I followed, and came upon Marty, cowering in fear pressed
up against a fence, his eyes wide opened in fear, with Neil
sitting several feet away. Marty was obviously no wild street cat, seeming to be a
Persian and being so docile, so I simply picked him up and
carried him home. He
didn’t even struggle, but rather snuggled.
 Marty’s endearing, gentle,
baby-like personality was evident in minutes. Also evident, was that he was not in the greatest shape,
and likely had been on the streets a while, not dealing with it
very successfully. He
had ear mites, fleas, and was bony under all his fur (weighing a
mere 6.5 pounds).
His
fur had also been cut, as if by a groomer, which was a big
tipoff that he had recently been someone’s pet, aside from the
fact that Persian cats aren’t found wild on the streets.
 It
wasn’t just being scared, starving and dirty that had him
looking poorly. It
turned out that he had a severe urinary tract infection, which
caused so much swelling that he became blocked, only dripping
blood. He had
to stay overnight at the vets for testing and treatment.
He would have died in a few days if I hadn't found him and gotten him to the vet.
Meanwhile, I plastered the neighborhood with “Found
Cat” signs. A man
called, described Marty to the point that it clearly was his
cat, but when he found out Marty was at the vets with an
estimated $250 bill, he said he would “have to talk to his
wife and get back to us.”
He was never heard from again, abandoning Marty.
He never even said what he named Marty, so we gave him
his new name for his new life.
But, the man
did give some info. He said he got Marty from someone in
Ohio,and that Marty was about a year old (which the vet agreed
with). He said they had gotten Marty’s fur cut as he was
very matted. (Funny,
Marty never got so matted with us that he needed his fur cut.)
The man said Marty and another of their cats
“disappeared” two weeks prior, that they “walked around”
looking for them, but didn’t find them.
We had seen a new cat on our porch fitting the
description of Marty’s “brother”, plus it turns out that
the man only lives a few blocks away, so he didn’t look very
hard for his cats. Nor
had he put up any “Lost Cats” signs.
I suppose he wasn’t all that keen on finding them, or
maybe they didn’t want that
man to find them.
 Replies
from e-mails I sent to breeders of Persians cats in an attempt
to locate where Marty might belong revealed that he is a Shaded
Silver, doll face Persian.
He even has the characteristic green eyes with
"mascara" linings (breeder lingo for black rimmed
eyes) as well as the "mascara" on the nose, and the
black paw pads, which are hallmarks of Shaded Silvers.
From his pictures, and
from two vet’s opinions, he is a pure breed.
But, of course, he wasn’t carrying any papers with him
Once
Marty recovered from his infection, and had good food and TLC,
he looked better and better as time went by. It took
a few months for him to be able to urinate freely, instead of in frequent,
small amounts. His fur took several months to grow in
as well. But even after about two months, he started
looking a lot better, and became more energetic.
He would have his "zoomies", racing back and forth
through the house.
 He
is a cat social cat.
He tried to make friends with our six other cats, but
they weren’t all that keen on the matter, except Franny, the
one closest to his age. Franny
bonded with him quickly and became his playmate and “hang
around” buddy. One of our cats, Simon, seemed to like
Marty at times, and Marty rubbed on Simon a lot, but that was
probably more to try to curry favor with Simon.
Simon frequently dashed after Marty, scaring him so that
he would run and hide under the bed.
So,
Marty began perfecting his "skid turns" on the kitchen
floor to help him be able to race away from Simon, without
getting cornered in the kitchen as had happened on a few occasions.
And perfect it did. He seemed to delight in his new
found skill and practiced it a lot.
Figuring
out how to use the cat flap to our enclosed porches took Marty a
very long time- a couple of months. He isn't the smartest
cat in the world. But he sure is one of the dearest cats
ever. That opinion isn't shared by our cat Minerva,
though. Marty would run up to her, which got her upset.
He was initially seeming to try to play, but later on it seemed
as if he was doing to her what Simon did to him.
Sadly, we rehomed Marty, along with
his pal Franny. We needed to take in two other cats,
and since a very responsible animal loving person known to us
expressed a desire to have cats just at the time the two new
cats were to be arriving, it was best all around for Marty and
his friend Franny to move on. Marty can be the top cat now
in his own "catdom" and not worry about a bigger,
tougher cat chasing him and a different cat hissing at him
whenever he comes near her. He can just be gentle, playful "fluffy,
smooshy Marty" now. But I miss his endearing cute
little self very much.
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Fleas make cats miserable! They itch and can lead to tapeworms.