Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: WEDNESDAY, May 4, 1994                   TAG: 9405040147
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: C2   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: Associated Press
DATELINE: FREDERICKSBURG                                LENGTH: Medium

ABANDONED, SHOT, SLUSH THE CAT STILL DETERMINED TO LIVE

Jennifer Anderson and Bob Perciaccante, a Fredericksburg couple, found the little cat on Christmas Day. He was huddled, starving and nearly frozen, in a cardboard box.

The cat was sick and his ribs protruded through a black- and-white coat so full of ice and road salt it appeared gray.

The couple took the cat in, named him Slush, and lovingly nursed him back to health.

A happy ending to the story?

Not yet.

On March 11, Slush disappeared. Three nights later, he staggered home with his lower jaw dangling grotesquely.

Someone had shot Slush in the face with a .38-caliber handgun.

Horrified, Anderson and Perciaccante watched as the cat went straight to its food and water bowls, trying futilely to eat and drink.

They rushed Slush to a local veterinary hospital, where doctors removed the slug but could do nothing to repair the damage.

``When we found out he got shot ... For someone to intentionally shoot him ...'' Perciaccante said, his voice trailing off.

Doctors told them they could take Slush to the North Carolina State University Veterinary School, where a wire and acrylic lower jaw might be fashioned for the cat.

But that would cost a lot of money, and Anderson, 26, and Perciaccante, 20, were already struggling to make ends meet. They have four jobs between them.

They thought about putting Slush to sleep.

``We decided we couldn't do that because Slush wanted so badly to live,'' Anderson said. ``We couldn't put him to sleep when he was fighting so hard to make it.''

They borrowed the money for a veterinary school hospital deposit and drove all night to Raleigh, N.C., where doctors operated for six hours.

Slush was hospitalized for a week, then returned home. He had to wear a metal brace around his jaw for a month.

The bills for Slush's surgery and care have mounted to $2,500, and the Pet Assistance League of Stafford County set up a ``Slush Fund'' to help cover the costs.

``I get phone calls every day about animal abuse, but this was the ultimate. I could not believe that people could do that to a poor animal,'' said Simone Fredericy, PALS adoption coordinator.

His looks have suffered. Most of his teeth are missing, and he now can eat only a mushy mixture of canned cat food and water.

Slush is still not out of danger, but doctors told the couple that the cat is making remarkable progress.

``Until recently I really wasn't a cat person,'' Perciaccante said. ``But after this happened, I would find myself wondering how Slush was doing while I was at work.''