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LITERATURE: STORIES
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If you have a story about your Persian (or other breed), please click here to submit it. Stories will be published on this page. Please note that we may make some spelling/grammatical adjustments if needed.
Lucky My beautiful sister had a calico cat and a Persian. My sister loved her cats and hoped to have kittens one day. She was involved in a bad surgery and died. I took the mother cat and she gave birth one week after my sister died to the most handsome white kitten in the world. He will be five years old on August 23rd, and I am so thankful that God gave him to me on behalf of my beautiful sister Carla. Lucky is his name and he has not felt good lately so please have Lucky in your prayers.
Patty and the Pickle Jar On a bright summer morning, our soft little fluff ball Patty was running around the house doing her daily trouble round for the day. She was chasing birds while in the house and she made it to the kitchen. There we had our pickles in the crock pot, almost up with 2 weeks marinating. We had a plate over the top as a lid, and this was sitting at the window. She took a dash, jumped, 'flip' goes the plate, and in goes Patty. She was determined to get out of there, so she jumped out, breaking the dish in the mean time, and landed on all fours. She sat in the mess that she created with much pride, sneezed, pinned ears, glared, and twitched her tail. She began the cleaning process and heard a door open. She was gone in a flash! We have 2 other Persians that have been annointed into the tradition, and from then forth we will remember this and the cost for the damages. Even in death, we will always find joy in this dear cat.
Madam Amber My beloved six-year-old tortie, Amber, is my greatest company and my perpetual delight. We moved from New Zealand to Australia in late 2004 - an expensive process, especially for her (fortunately no quarantine). Non-cat people look askance at the cost, but cat-people (like yourselves) understand that you can't leave behind one of the family. She arrived at the beginning of a typically hot Australian summer - but Her Ladyship adapted better than I did, despite the coat, while I was to be found in a little puddle on the floor! While not a lapcat, she is always to be found where I am, regardless of how inconvenient (to me) that may be. She is uninterested in the computer, except that she insists on sitting up on the desk beside me (preferably half-on the keyboard, if she can get away with it). Thus far, I've moved everything around on that desk for her three times, and counting... is everyone such a sucker for their furrball as me? She hates to get wet and makes a point of coming in from the rain with her wet paws and wiping them on my duvet. She loves to play with a running tap or sit in a just-emptied bath. Go figure! I have a busy job and sometimes work long hours, but boy, does Madam let me know if she thinks I've been away too long. Does anyone else get 'told off' by their monster all the way up the path? I wouldn't be without her, and only hope I can keep her in good health as long as our other fluffballs - so far, ages 14-18 so I've had a bit of practice.
My Baby Shimshim When my cat was found as a stray outside, I knew she would be a lot of work, to be cleaned from all the fleas, and to get rid of all that matted hair. Yet, it was the easiest job. She is so polite, quite, and adorable. She always acts as if she is a part of the family and she is. And I am so happy to have her with me becuase she brought joy to my life. Now I look forward to going home from school because I know there is someone waiting for me and who loves me as much as I love her.
Minnu Gives Birth My Minnu, my tabby Persian, was in pain as she was due to give babies. I usually sleep with my bedroom closed, so she waited outside my door in the drawing room 'til morning, bearing the pain. When I woke up in the morning, she came to me and sat beside me, meooing loudly. I had to get ready for my office, but she wouldn't let me go. I left everything and sat beside her, constantly petting her and telling her sweet nothings. At last, in a few pushes, she give her first baby. I was so overjoyed. I ran outside the room to call my fiancé, but she quickly came behind me, leaving her newly born baby as she wanted only me beside her. I quietly went along with her back, and then she accepted the baby and started licking her. She did not allow anyone except me in the house to be with her during her turbulent time, when she was in deep pain. She was at peace when I was with her. I felt so touched by her sign of love and affection for me, an only child of my mom, always alone with no one to love. This reassured my faith in love and compassion. She easily gave birth to the rest of the kittens and looked at me proudly. But it was me who was proud of her. I love her a lot, and she is a great mother, too. May God bless her with a long life.
Wonderful White My cat's name is White. He is only one year old and is so cute. He likes to eat chocolate, cookies, fish and meat. When he hears me playing with a marble, he snatches it from me and plays with it. Sometimes the marble rolls inside a chair (big chair), so he looks at me as if I'm supposed to go and fetch it for him. I can't get over his lovely blue eyes! White is a wonderful, dreamy, lovable, cute, handsome, caring, dashing and snowy cat!
Bonnie's Boxes & Baskets Our Bonnie cat has a thing for plastic, especially plastic boxes. She's fairly large and looks silly crammed into a plastic shoe box, but every time my son empties toys onto the floor, Bonnie must sleep in the box. She also likes to ride in laundry baskets. If I'm taking an empty basket to the laundry room, she'll beg. When I put it down, she hops right in and stays there as I carry the basket through the house and down the stairs. As soon as I put even one sock in the basket, she refuses to ride. She once tried to jump from the floor into a basket on the bed, but it was too close to the edge and overturned... on top of her! She was embarrassed that she trapped herself.
Flight of the Bowl I can still remember the visit to my aunt in Switzerland. She always had a great love for cats, especially Persians. She had 12 cats in total, and seven of them were Persians. It was very funny watching her feed them. First she would get a medium-sized bowl full of cat food and she would have to move through a sea of meowling and hissing cats, often tripping up. One day, my Gran came over to her house while she was feeding her cats which was a mistake of course. Gran sat down while my aunt fed her cats. She tripped over one, and the bowl went flying through the air and landed on Gran's head. It was hilarious.
Simba, the Mighty Hunter For 8 years now, we have had a cat named Simba who is very unique-looking. He is white with a big black bushy tail and a black spot on his head and weighs 15 pounds. Everyone who has seen him thinks he is cute. Even the vet said they have never before seen a cat who looks like that. Not only is Simba unique-looking, but his ways are, too! He loves to eat canned corn and peas, but along with the veggies, he loves his meat. He proved this one day, while we were eating lunch. We noticed he was running across the road with something in his mouth, stopping, dropping the item, picking it up and running again. By the time he had reached our patio, we discovered that we had a great hunter. He had a rabbit as big as he was and was just getting ready to have dinner himself!
Rescued or Rescuer? Let me start by saying I am not a writer. Neither am I an expert on Persians. (I've only had one, and she's only been with me about a week and a half.) I am an expert on miracles, and twice, God has sent one in the form of a cat. I want to share my life story with you in hopes that it will help at least one other person. Also, I hope it will encourage everyone to give their "rescue" kitties or little miracles an extra hug. I don't know why I feel compelled to share my personal story, but I do know that 1) God wants me to, and 2) This group of readers is compassionate and caring and won't judge me too harshly. When I was two years old, my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She died when I was three. In order to help him raise me and my younger brother, my dad remarried right away. The woman he married was a monster. She physically and emotionally abused me for the 15 years I stayed in the house. Because of injuries she caused, I have a seizure disorder and other neurological problems to this day. When I left home, I did what many abused girls do and went for the familiar - I married a man who was abusive. Because I do not believe in divorce, I stayed with him for 13 years until he died in a car accident. After he died, I found myself alone with no one to abuse me. Because I truly believed that I was wicked and deserved what punishment I got, I started punishing myself. After several years, God led me to two wonderful people. One was a pastor and one a social worker (bless you John and Terry). Between the two of them, they convinced me that I needed to get treatment, not only for myself but for my daughter who was living my nightmare. She is a wonderful young woman and doesn't deserve to have a mother who is so messed up. I entered an inpatient psychiatric program that was aimed specifically at ending self abuse. After a month of counseling (and forced-injury free time), I left the program. For the first time in my life, I was able to see that there was a possibility that I was not evil. (Notice I said "possibility". I still argue with myself over this on a daily basis.) When I was discharged from the hospital I was determined not to start injuring again but it was incredibly hard to break the habit especially since I still felt/feel I deserve it. I was totally focused on my own pain. That's when God sent TC into my life. TC was a grey domestic cat, somewhere between long and short haired. When I went out to get the mail one day, TC walked right into my living room! I had never seen him before. He made it very clear that he expected me to love and care for him. I knew what it was like to be abandoned so I fell in love with him right away. Tending to him gave me something to live for. It also made me feel useful. God knew that I felt that I did not deserve my daughter, but a little cat I could handle. TC became a very important part of my recovery. By the way, TC was named by my therapist and stands for Therapy Cat. After several months, when I was feeling stronger, TC left as quietly as he had come. I believe he snuck out the door one night, but I never saw him again. He is probably somewhere being an angel to someone else. Unfortunately, I still have lots of psychiatric problems. I've been hospitalized several times for these problems but am getting stronger. About 2 months ago, I developed a migraine that would not go away. The pain was making me nauseous, which was making me vomit. Because I was vomiting I was not holding down my seizure meds and I started seizing which made the headache worse. It was a vicious circle. After 2 weeks of this, my psychologist convinced me to seek treatment. I went to the ER and was admitted to neurology. There I was assigned a very unsympathetic General Practitioner, my very understanding psychiatrist and a group of neurologists. The neurologist determined there was swelling on the brain and gave me steroids. After 4 days, I was sent home still in pain. The pain got progressively worse. When I called the GP I was told she would not talk to me without an appointment and the next appointment was in 5 weeks. The hospital then called me for a follow up. When I told them I was still in tremendous pain they told me to go back to ER. I called my psychiatrist and asked her if she agreed. She told me to get admitted to neurology and put her on as a consult. I went to the ER and waited from 8 in the evening until 4:30 in the morning just to get in a room. When I finally saw a doctor I told him what my psychiatrist had said. He immediately started treating me as totally a psych case and asking questions about my mental health. After about 25 questions, I finally said, "All I want is enough medicine to stop the pain." This was taken as a threat to overdose I was given the choice of voluntarily signing myself into psych or being committed as a danger to self. When I "voluntarily" signed in my Dr. was called. She insisted that I be seen by medical personnel. It took three days and 6 sets of orders before I finally saw the GP. She finally came and then told me "It's all in your head, get over it." At that point, I lost it and self-injured for the first time in 4 years. The neurologist came that night and determined there was still swelling and put me on more medicine, but the damage was already done. I was a "failure" I had let myself and my daughter down - I "deserved" to be punished. Since this happened, I am really struggling with issues of self worth and self blame. Into my life walks miracle number 2. Pillow was, as many of you know from my postings, was abandoned at one of the forest preserves I work for. She is a silver and white Persian who is approximately 5 or 6 years old. She was declawed and could not defend herself. She was abandoned in her carrier in the middle of the preserve. The maintenance man that found her knew that my daughter did rescue work with the vet that she works with and gave us a call to see if we could place her. I took her home "for the night" until we could drop her off at the shelter the next day. She was abandoned, hungry, mated, scared, and hurt. Talk about having problems with self-esteem! She was a wallflower who loved to be petted but wasn't sure she deserved it. At the slightest noise or quick movement she was gone. She was a me with four legs! Needless to say, I fell head over heels. I am being very gentle with her and she is starting to come around. The funny thing is that as I become gentler with her, I become gentler with me. God has sent another furry angel. So I ask again, who was the rescued and who was the rescuer?
Rescue to the Rescue This morning, I was looking everywhere for Snoopy, my 2-year-old Birman, as he didn't come out for breakfast. I checked all of his usual hiding places, including under the bed headboard, where he liked to nap all summer. I called and called, but Snoop didn't even answer. (I'm always concerned when a cat doesn't come out at feeding time because it could be the first indication of illness.) Raleigh, my recently adopted rescue silver Persian, accompanied me in my search. I was about to give up when I noticed Raleigh sniffing the dust ruffle at the foot of the bed. Guess what was under there?
Tussy If you've ever lost a pet, you know the pain of not knowing what fate they have found. My story is one of hope. My persian, Tussy, was about a year and a half old when she came up missing. Tussy was my heart and soul, and I can't even explain the pain I have felt for over two years, wondering about her. I had done everything I could do when she came up missing, and it was no help. For two years, I had wondered about if she was ok. Out of the blue, my sister called me and told me a story that would give me some closure. A woman had called her after finding an ad I had posted on a Web site when Tussy came up missing. For two years, she had Tussy, and a friend had recently told her about the Web site. Out of curiosity, she pulled it up and found my ad. This wonderful lady said it took her about two months to get the nerve up to call the number listed (my sister's) and do the right thing. She said she had found Tussy around the time my ad was posted, and Tussy had a bad cut over one of her eyes, which required surgery. She said that for two years she and her three children have made my Tussy a part of their family and loved her very much. However, she knew the pain of losing a pet and knew she had to do the right thing and let me know that Tussy was ok, happy, and loved very much, but she had to offer her back to us. My sister told me she talked to the lady for quite a while and told her she couldn't take Tussy away from another home. The lady told her children, while they were on the phone. My sister said she could her the children screaming, "They aren't taking her!" The woman offered to leave her name and number, in case I had a different decision, but my sister told her no. I can't tell you how I cried when my sister called and told me this story. I don't know if it was relief or pain, but at least now, after two years, that my baby is safe and happy with people who will love her as much as I do. To this woman, I say, God bless you for the closure you have given me and to Tussy." Baby, I will always love you.
Snowflake The day I brought home my first Persian cat, Snowflake, was the happiest of my life. When I had to choose, it was between two colored cats and two white ones. I knew I wanted a white one, so I took the first one by the door - that day. I opened the door, and there he was standing, almost like he was ready for me to take him home. It was so much fun watching him (and his personality) grow. When he went it was so hard, and I still miss him a lot. It was weird because the age he was when he died was the same I was when I got him - 12. I feel so blessed that he was a part of my life. He will always be special to me. I still have his pictures up. To anyone who has never had a pet, especially a Persian cat, they don't know what they are missing.
The Adventures of Zorn When I was younger, we had a very young black cat, Zorn. She was neurotic, to say the least. We wouldn't let her outside because she was in heat (her first, before we took care of that problem). We had sliding glass doors that opened to the back yard. There were pine trees all over the back yard. And the few times that she would get out, she would leap from tree to tree. One day, we had the doors half open, but the screen door was closed. Zorn ran to get outside and took a flying leap. However, she stuck to the screen! When we tried to get her out, she crawled into the 2-inch gap in between the doors! She had herself completely trapped, and we had to stop laughing before we could take the doors off. It was like she was stuck in the glass slides for a microscope!
Olive Master I know that most cats love eating fish, but my cat, Snowy, doesn't believe it. He loves eating black olives! So whenever my parents and I are eating black olives, he jumps on the dining table and wants to have olives, too! That's why when we bring pizza home, he's the first one to be eating the black olives on top of the pizza. He sometimes grabs them with his paws and then puts them in his mouth.
Mad Max My crazy cat, Max, is a black and white, half Persian/half Himalayan with a little white milk mustache. He had a habit of always jumping into my refrigerator whenever I opened it. Well, one night while watching TV in my living room (after I just got a snack from the refrigerator), I heard meowing coming from the kitchen. I ignored him (at first anyway), thinking he was just begging for yet another treat. Then the "begging" got louder so I thought I'd better check and see what he was up to. So just as I walked into the kitchen, my crazy (cool) cat was coming out of the darn refrigerator! And to this day, I don't know exactly how he got in there (not to mention out of there) without me noticing. But somehow he did. Now when I open up the refrigerator, he still comes running, but he chooses to just sit there and stare instead! A lesson learned, I guess.
The Rabbit and Sinbad, the Persian I have a wonderful story about my cat and his best friend, my house rabbit, a very small Netherland Dwarf bunny. Ten years ago, in an empty parking lot in Seattle, Washington, my son found a cat. He was malnourished, dirty, covered with sores, infested with fleas, and so ugly. He brought him home, and we took him to the vet. They groomed him and treated him. When we picked him up later that day, here was this beautiful white Persian with one blue eye and one gold eye. He got well and is the most beautiful, sweet, gentle animal. I moved back to southern California 5 years later. Of course, Sinbad and my son stayed in Seattle to finish college. I found an apartment here, and the landlady (and soon-to-be best friend) was also an animal lover. But her animals of choice were Netherland Dwarf Rabbits. Sinbad is a total house cat. When I introduced him to the bunnies, I didn't know if he would attack them or love them. I got a small female bunny and had her fixed. I was very watchful at first to see if Sinbad would be aggressive. Much to my surprise, they loved each other! They use the same litter box, sleep together, groom each other, play chase, and just sit still next to one another. Sinbad weighs 20 lbs, and she is a small 2 lbs. He has had some life-threatening health problems, and I think just having her around has kept him alive. (He has cancer in the sinus cavity and has nose bleeds). The vet is surprised he is still alive and seems pain free. His estmated age is about 18 years. He has had several teeth removed, has to have shots of Depomedrol for allergies, and has arthritis. But every morning, the two of them play chase, bat toys around, and groom one another. He lays down, and she runs over him. He turns on his back, and she gets on his tummy. She hides, and he calls to her until she comes out of hiding. It is a wonder to me that these two animals (one at the top of the food chain and the other at the bottom of the food chain) love and enjoy each other. In this terrible time of hate and war, we could all learn from the animals.
Speedy Sabrina My black and white Persian, Sabrina, has a funny habit. At around 9:30 p.m., she has to run back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom before she goes and takes a nap. My husband and I just sit and laugh at her because she gets going pretty fast!
The Story of Fluffy, the Rainkitty My aunt had a Persian hybrid named Fluffy. We affectionately referred to him as Rainkitty because he wasn't quite bright (as in Rainman, the movie about the autistic man). Fluffy was sweet as sugar but dumb as a post. Anyway, Fluffy loved those little super bounce rubber balls. The kind you can get out of a gumball machine at the stores. My aunt had at least 30 of those things around the house, and Fluffy would follow the bouncing ball all day. One day, she was getting ready for work, and Fluffy came to her with a ball in his mouth. She told him she didn't have time to play, stepped over him and went to get dressed. He followed her, meowing around the ball in his mouth. She told him again, she didn't have time to play and went to put on her makeup. Here comes Fluffy, meowing louder around the ball. Finally, she bent down to take the ball out of his mouth and throw it....and found that the ball was stuck in his teeth! All four canines were stuck in the ball. She sat on the floor and held him and laughed 'til she was late for work.
A True Rookie A week after I adopted Tigger, I went to the vet to inquire about what he would need. I had not owned a cat prior to this, and he didn't have a name or medical records when I adopted him. So I went to a local vet to see how much it would cost for his initial visit. Upon inquiring, I was informed he would need his rabies and distemper shots. To which, in an innocent but serious tone, I replied, "Oh, I don't think he'll need a distemper shot, he's a pretty well behaved cat." Needless to say, I was corrected on the spot and turned beet red.
Greetings from Fluffy My persian kitten, Fluffy, has a weird way of saying hello to poeple. First he sticks his tail up and then he pounces at something! That's how Fluffy says hello! Fluffy is very hyper. Once he started to make fun of my dog through the window! Also, Fluffy has discovered vanilla pudding and can't stop eating it! He also likes mashed potatoes.
Mouse Surprise My 4-year-old Persian, Zoey, walked into my room at about 6 a.m. She was giving a grotesque meow for about ten minutes. When I woke up, she plopped something on my lap. I looked down and saw a mouse. At the moment, I was scared but realized the mouse was rubber!
Purrki Adjusts to Change Purrki the Persian Pussycat, a 6-year-old silver, likes to sleep on my bed. Recently, I replaced my aging bedspread with a new one. Purrki has always been fussy about the surfaces she chooses to lie on. She expressed her displeasure with the change by lying on the floor under the dresser and meowing, refusing to get on the new bedspread. Since she likes to lie on towels, I spread a towel out on the bed for her to lie on. For about a week, she would sleep on the towel on the bed, being sure no part of her furry body touched the new bedspread. Then one evening we noticed that her tail was off the edge of the towel and on the spread. A few days later, her hindquarters would be off the towel and on the spread. Then she would sit on the new bedspread, but not lie down on it. It took about a month, but Purrki will now sleep on the new bedspread, and I no longer need to spread a towel out on it for her.
Bobbing for Potatoes Our black persian, Skittles, is 7 months old and gets into a lot of trouble. My mom was pealing potatoes for our supper, and Skittles was anxiously looking at the garbage can to see what the sound was and where the peels were going. So my mother went to get a stool so Skittles could watch what was going in. Skittles jumped up onto the stool and watched. Skittles got so amused by it and naturally wanted to catch the peels. She caught one and fell into the garbage along with it!
Marshmallows My cat is called Tara. Tara has many weird eating habits. She eats cheese slices, ice cream, flavoured ice lollys, dry bread, crisps, biscuits, and marshmallows! When I discovered she liked marshmallows, she was only a few weeks old. One day, I had a packet of marshmallows, and Tara was very curious about them. So I let her sniff them, but then she started eating them. Because they were sticky, they got stuck to her whiskers! She was running around the room trying to clean them, and it was so funny!
The Ladder King Snowy loves climbing ladders. Whenever we get the ladder to bring down our summer/winter clothes, Snowy is the first one to be seated on the steps. He has to climb, too! (Sometimes, if we take him down the stairs, he starts meowing.) So one day, I opened my cupboard, and of course Snowy climbed the ladder and went inside. He sat among the clothes, and whenever we tried take him out, he refused and hid.
Grandma's Kirby One night, I was sleeping over at my grandma's house. She has a cat whose name is Kirby. He was down in her office (she has a home-based business) playing on the floor. Then he tried to jump up on my grandma's lap, but she was working on something and didn't want him to bother her. She ignored him, but he got mad and started to pat her on the arm like he was saying, "Mom, I want to get up on your lap!"
Staring It was Thanksgiving of '96, and my mom was sitting on the floor in my grandma's living room. She was staring at my grandma's cat, Kirby, who gets really crabby and scares people. He was getting kind of annoyed when my mom was staring at him so, he decided to scare her. In a split second, he made a jump, and my mom was doing a back flip because he scared her so badly!
The Cat I would like to write a story about my Persian cat who i call "the cat." Most cats hate the car and the bath, but my cat loves them! It's strange when my mom drives around because you see a cat sitting at the back window. I love to see the look on people's faces.
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