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Chapter 44. Finding Asia
"Tara, can you pick up two cats for me at CACC?"
My daughter was home for the holidays and as always, I looked forward to the additional help. While we usually went to the shelter together, on this particular day, I had a vet appointment and other errands to run.
"Do you have particular cats in mind, Mom?" Tara asked. "Not really. You know what to look for. Perhaps one male and one female, preferably already neutered. Youngish, friendly, you know. I trust your judgment, Tara."
I was relieved not to have to go to CACC. The place always depressed me. So many lovely cats and so few we could take. No matter how many I rescued, I always felt guilty and was haunted over the ones left behind. The fact was, that almost 80% of the animals brought into CACC died there.
Tara on the other hand, seemed a bit more pragmatic and accepting of reality than I. She was not like my assistant, Judy, who, on the one time she accompanied me to CACC, broke down in tears and insisted on rescuing the sickest cat in the place. Tara, as a rule, was not given to emotional decisions. I could depend on Tara to pick out highly adoptable and healthy cats.
Later than day, Tara returned home with three cats. "I hope you don't mind, Mom, but I picked up an extra one." The extra cat Tara picked up was a frightening horror. Like something out of a Stephen King novel.
I gasped out loud when opening the carrier. "Oh, my God, what is this?"
Perhaps at one time the cat might have been a pretty Purebred Tortie Persian.
But, the thin, filthy, smelly animal in the box reminded one of what one might find in a sewer, not a cat show. The "fur" was dry, stiff, completely matted, and caked in the back with hard feces and stuck urine that gave the cat a kind of "glued" appearance. She was so dirty, it was hard to tell what colors the cat was supposed to be. Black gook surrounded her watery eyes and it was clear the cat was suffering from an Upper Respiratory Infection. She could barely breathe. The cat's nails were so long, they were starting to curl under her feet. What's more, she wasn't spayed. But, that was the least of the cat's and our troubles.
Indeed, there seemed nothing right with this cat!
"I felt sorry for her, Mom," Tara said matter of factly. "She wasn't going into adoptions because of her condition. She's a sweet cat and I couldn't bear to see her go down."
"But, Tara this cat's a mess! She's going to have be entirely shaved, treated for URI and spayed. She's thin and sickly looking. God only knows how long we are going to have her before she can be adopted!"
"I'm sorry, Mom. I just couldn't leave her there."
If there was any consolation to the day it was that other two cats Tara picked up were highly adoptable. But, I was beside myself with the smelly mess that was supposed to be a Persian. I looked on the cat's intake form from CACC.
She was given up from a "home," with the claim that a child was allergic. Same ol, same ol, I thought cynically to myself. If they can't take care of a cat, how are they going to take care of a child?
But, such questions weren't for me to ponder.
Former owners indicated the cat's name was "Asia." Odd name I thought and wondered how they came up with it? Yet, if there was anything pretty remaining in this cat, it was her name. Tara and I liked it and decided to keep it. "Asia, yes, it seems to fit her," we both agreed.
I made a grooming appointment for the next day for Asia at Petco.
I was mortified bringing in such a messed up and filthy cat.
"Oh my gosh, Patty! " Robert exclaimed, in his Hungarian accent, with heavy gay intonations. "You picked this cat up from the shelter? I have never seen an animal in such shocking condition! You know, everything is going to have to come off."
"I know, Robert. Just do what you can for her. She certainly can't stay like this."
Later that day, I returned to Petco to pick Asia up. She looked even more horrifying, as with the totally shaved body, her thinness was more apparent. Every bone stuck out. Apparently, the former owners couldn't feed Asia either. All they did was give her a pretty name.
"Patty, look at this. I saved it for you," Robert winked at me. In a plastic bag, was Asia's saved off coat. It was hard and stiff as a board. "It came off practically in one piece." Robert informed me. "You can use this like a weapon."
"Wow, unbelievable, Robert. It must have been so uncomfortable for her."
"Well, more than uncomfortable, Patty. Cats can die from stuff like this. See these sores on her skin? The skin can't breathe. She's lucky that you saved her."
"Well, to tell you the truth, Robert, I didn't save her, Tara did. But, I didn't know cats could die from being heavily matted. That's sobering information."
I picked up antibiotics from my vet for Asia. Upon returning home with the shaved cat, I told Tara she would have to medicate Asia and look after her. Tara happily agreed to do so. We put Asia in a cage so we could separate her from the other cats and monitor her eating and medications. "She's all yours," I told Tara. "No problem, Mom. I'm happy to do it. Thanks for getting her groomed."
Though Tara wasn't one to normally get emotionally involved with animals we rescued, she did with Asia. Perhaps because Asia was her own rescue, or perhaps because the cat had been so horribly neglected, Tara developed a very close bond with the cat.
Often, I found Tara stroking the bare skin and softy cooing to the cat. Likewise, Asia would gaze up trustingly at Tara with now big and reasonably clear copper eyes. The cat was starting to gain weight and her URI infection had cleared."
"You know, Tara, we're going to have start showing Asia at Petco. I have a spay appointment for her for next week. After that, I have to look for an adopter."
Tara didn't say anything. She realized I was speaking about realities. But, there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if wishing or trying to figure out another possibility.
"You can't take her back to college with you, Tara," I said, trying to read Tara's mind.
"I know, Mom," Tara replied resignedly.
"She will find a nice home, don't worry. I promise to look for someone very special for her."
But, Tara went on stroking Asia, seemingly not hearing what I was saying.