5-11-26 Milo

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6/26/25 – 5/8/26
Milo Rumdangle Nibbles Liam Anderson

I’m sorry to tell you that on Friday afternoon, we let Milo go.

The longer explanation is below, but the simple summary is this: Milo had a liver shunt, diagnosed very recently (the day we decided to adopt him and Magoo, in fact). He was going to require surgery, and we had an appointment for him at the Auburn University Veterinary school at the beginning of July. He had been doing pretty well lately, but when I woke up Thursday morning, he’d crashed. We got him to our vet just a few hours later; they gave him supportive care and we got several medications to give him. He had a brief period of improvement Thursday afternoon, but Friday morning he was so much worse, and so I made the decision to end his suffering.

It’s not the way I expected his story to end, but I don’t doubt it was the right decision. To see this formerly fearless kitten scared, blind and unable to walk was heartbreaking.

Magoo is doing okay – I’ve seen him looking around for Milo here and there, but mostly he’s just hanging out with his big brothers and coming to us occasionally for love.

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The long story is this:

Milo came to us as Rum at the end of December along with several other kittens including his brother Martini. Martini hadn’t been acting right for a few days, and as a result had a vet appointment a few days after they came to me. The morning of his appointment, I walked into the room to find him lying in a puddle of urine, his eyes dilated, and his chest covered in drool. The vet wasn’t able to save him, and he was euthanized later that day. They didn’t do a necropsy, but I think we all assumed that it was possibly FIP.

Just a few days later, I walked into the foster room to find Milo (I’m going to refer to him as Milo from here on even though at that point his name was Rum) with his eyes dilated, and his chest covered in drool. I got him to the vet and they did blood tests which indicated that he didn’t have FIP. In fact, they didn’t find anything wrong with him aside from an ear infection, which they treated.

I brought him home, and he pretty much stayed the same. He had the dilated eyes, was drooling, uncoordinated, and he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Finally, we decided that even though the blood tests had indicated it wasn’t FIP, it was worth starting him on FIP meds and see if he responded. The meds are a strong antiviral, and even if they didn’t help, they wouldn’t hurt. After a few days on them, he seemed to be doing better.

This started a roller coaster. He’d have a few good days, then I’d walk in to find him with dilated eyes, drool on his chest, and feeling clearly uncomfortable. Then he’d have several good – or decent – days followed by another bad day or two. It was hugely frustrating and it made no sense.

At one point we discovered (after he had a urinary tract infection which required a trip to the emergency vet one Sunday morning) that as long as he was on Clavamox (along with the FIP meds), he did well. If we missed one single dose of Clavamox, he immediately went into a bad day.

After about two weeks of this, we got him to another vet that the rescue uses to see if he could figure out what was going on. When we left the vet, I texted Michelle basically he thinks if it is FIP it has crossed the blood-brain barrier, and the symptoms he’s having could be extended, prolonged seizures. He doesn’t think prognosis is good, we’re trying to keep Rum comfortable. Starting prednisolone, keeping him on Clavamox, and continuing FIP meds.

Milo had a string of bad days, and finally I suggested to Fred that we up Milo’s FIP meds to the highest possible dosage and see if it helped.

(I am not a vet and I am not an FIP expert, I was going rogue. Please don’t do this.)

And it helped. We had about three absolutely wonderful weeks where Milo, for the very first time, acted like a normal kitten. He was playing, he was jumping up on counters and exploring, he was resting comfortably. After a week of really good days, I took him off the Clavamox, and the good days continued. I was so relieved – I just knew that we’d figured out this weird little guy.

Then one day I walked into the foster room and he was having a very bad day – dilated eyes, drooling, uncoordinated, couldn’t get comfortable. The roller coaster picked up again and we never knew what we’d find. His bad days after that didn’t seem SO very bad, but also his good days weren’t so very good.

Finally, the day I told Michelle we were going to adopt Milo and Magoo, we took him to our vet. It was a last-ditch attempt to figure out what was going on with him, because none of us thought it was really FIP. It didn’t present like FIP, it didn’t (except for that three week honeymoon period) respond to FIP meds like it should. Both Fred and I suspected that it was something congenital, that we’d probably get a “I don’t really know what’s going on with him” answer from the vet, and we’d have to bring him home and just see what happened. Neither of us expected that he’d have a long life – but we had to try.

The vet talked to us for a while, examined Milo, and then he said he thought there was a possibility it was a portosystemic shunt. He took Milo off to get blood drawn (and do a quick ultrasound), and we immediately started Googling.

Lethargy, drooling, stunted growth, uncoordination? Check. And copper colored eyes. Apparently that’s one of the signs of a liver shunt. (Side note: not all cats with copper eyes have shunts, and not all cats with shunts have copper eyes – it’s just often a sign in cats who do.)

Simple explanation of what a portosystemic shunt is: An abnormal blood vessel that allows blood from the intestines to bypass the liver, meaning toxins are not filtered out before circulating through the body.

A few days later, the blood tests came back. Milo’s liver biles were highly elevated, indicating pretty much without a doubt that a shunt is what we were dealing with. Our vet suggested our best bet was to go to Auburn University Veterinary school and sent a referral. It took a few days to get his initial appointment scheduled, which was for July 1st – but they put us at the top of the cancel list to get us in earlier.

(A side note: I don’t blame the first two vets for not diagnosing the shunt – it’s pretty rare in cats, and I think we were all distracted by trying to figure out if this was truly FIP.)

We gave Milo as much low-protein canned food as he wanted, and he had some pretty good days. I hoped we’d hear from Auburn letting us know that they’d had a cancellation, but that didn’t happen. Wednesday, I thought Milo was getting “that look,” but he didn’t seem to be doing too badly and I figured he’d bounce back by Thursday morning.

And you know the rest – I woke up to find that he’d crashed. The vet did everything she could. He had bounced back SO MANY TIMES before that I was absolutely certain he would again… and then he didn’t.

I wish his story didn’t end like this. I wish he was still here with us. I wish we had more time with him. I miss that sweet, weird little guy so very much. I’m so glad he was ours even if it wasn’t nearly long enough.

(Things I want to always remember about Milo: how he nibbled my toes when I was least expecting it and his satisfied look when I said “Stop that!” His sweet, constant purr. How much he loved other cats, especially his brothers (especially especially Magoo.) Watching him escort Rocco through the house. How he’d appear beside me from out of nowhere to snoopervise what I was doing, and then disappear, leaving me to call for him. How he always came when I made the kissy noise for him. How small he was (he never got over 6 pounds) but his presence was huge. How his fur looked kind of ratty but it was so soft and silky. How utterly confident and fearless he was until that last day. His Rumdangles, of course. He was one of a kind.)

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Here are the rest of the pictures I took of Milo while he was with us.

Rumdangling on the tall cat tree.

Happy on the back porch.

His favorite brother.

Dangling.

Dangling. (This tree is good for dangling on multiple levels, apparently.)

Watching for birds while dangling.

Sleeping with me. (He didn’t sleep with me every night, but I loved it when he did.)

His favorite heated bed on his favorite chair.

Napping.

Tussling (trying to, anyway) with Magoo.

Milo pie!

In the back yard.

Oh, my heart.

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Posted on social media (Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Tumblr/ Bluesky/Threads) this weekend.

Bao pie! (My favorite!)

6/26/25 – 5/8/26
Milo Rumdangle Nibbles Liam Anderson

I am heartbroken to tell you that today we said goodbye to Milo. I will write about it in detail in a few days, but rest assured that we did absolutely everything we could for that sweet boy, including making the difficult decision to end his suffering.

I’ll be taking some time off from posting, but will be back in a few days. Thank you for loving him as much as we have these past 4+ months.

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Previously
2025: No entry.
2024: Crouton can’t decide whether she’s more interested in Auntie Alice or Martha the Roomba (who is over by the fireplace blending in with the track toys.)
2023: I put this hammock scratcher next to the little blue cat tree in hopes that they’d use the hammock, and by golly they DID. (That’ll never happen again.)
2022: “Am sleepy, lady.”
2021: Whist said “Thank goodness I had my floof suit cleaned recently!”
2020: It’s Monday, and Alejandro is like “Didn’t we already have a Monday?”
2019: They’re turning into total stringbeans!
2018: “Does this mean I’m gonna have to hear about his extra toes for the rest of my life? Oh joy.”
2017: Roux will have you know that she is NOT responsible for the damage to this scratcher. It was a previous litter. REALLY.
2016: SOMEONE has a case of the Loons!
2015: Happy Mother’s Day!
2014: “Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’m prettyyyyyyy.”
2013: “You might CONSIDER yourself the fourth born child of Khaleesi, but YOU ARE NO DRAGON, SIR.”
2012: O Christmas tree.
2011: I love how, at this age, when you rub their bellies, they think about it for a moment, then begin vigorously grooming themselves.
2010: Now that Maura is gone, we’re down to just our eleven, plus four fosters. Why, it’s like we hardly have any cats in the house at all!
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.

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