Two and a half weeks ago, we said goodbye to our precious furbaby, Milo. I wanted to post soon after it happened, but his absence is palpable.
Milo was the heart of our home. So active and energetic even into his later years, always poking Ken to be part of a conversation or to play, grooming Molly and snuggling with her, or asking for treats and cuddles from me.
“Lolo”, as we often called him, was always “into something”. Even when he first came to us at a year old, he was super curious about evrything. He even had this little “curious face” which made us laugh whenever he did it.
Oh, that face! When he was younger, he had this incredible smile that just melted our hearts.
A Cat Walks Into a Restaurant
Milo came to us when he was about a year old.
The silvery kitty who would become Milo had been living under the deck of a family restaurant at the time. The staff had been feeding him for a few months and a family member told Ken about him.
One evening, Ken was sitting on the deck of the restaurant, and this outgoing kitty came up to him and jumped on his lap. Fast forward to an hour later. Ken had called me to tell me about the little guy, and asked if I wanted another furbaby.
“YES!!”
I had set up one of the spare rooms for Milo, with a litter box, food and water, some toys, and brought my laptop and blankets and slept on the floor with him.
Mackenzie, who was an older gentleman at the time, tolerated Milo, but Milo’s insane energy occassionally irritated him a bit. However, we’d sometimes come home to find the two of them sleeping next to one another.
We Are Family
Mackenzie left us about a year and a half later, which left Milo a single kitty for a while. We realized, though, that he needed a sibling because he needed to not only channel his energy, but also have a friend when we weren’t around. It was during this time that I was getting progressively sicker and we hated the thought of him being all by himself sometimes for 18 hours a day when I would spend two or three weeks in the hospital.
Introducing Molly, who came to us in January 2011. After an initial awkward few minutes, Milo was smitten! It didn’t take too long before they were snuggling together.
Our babies had so many adventures together. They had toys and treats, treehouses, cat beds, and basically anywhere else they wanted to go. Ken had also fenced in the yard so they could play outside safely, which Milo treated like his Pride. He would do “perimeter checks” every time he went outside, as our “guard kitty”, before settling on a sunny spot on the little hill against the back fence, or snoozing in a cool spot under the patio table.
Together, Milo and Molly learned to walk with harnesses/leashes. They played in the snow. They chased each other around the many boxes that would become temporary playhouses. They competed for the prime real estate next mommy or daddy. But most of all, they loved each other so very much.
We had so many family rituals with Milo, who would spend hours on Ken’s lap during morning conference calls, or follow him into the living room at the end of the day for some one-on-one buddy time. He also loved to sit with me while I wore my respiratory vest. He always wanted to be in the center of the action.
Yes, Milo was a spoiled kitty, and we wouldn’t have had it any other way. Milo was always there to love us. And he was certainly “daddy’s little buddy”.
After Ken’s shoulder surgery, both cats sat on and with him for 2 entire weeks as he recovered. If we were having a disagreement, Milo, ever the jester, would do something to make us laugh. If Ken was telling a lively story, Milo would pull on his pant leg, wanting to be part of the good energy. He’d also keep Ken company when practicing darts, doing yard work, or working on his computer.
If I was upset, Milo would come over to me and lean against me so I could hug him. He would purr and boop my face with his little nose. Sometimes, he’d put his paw on my hand.
He also loved music. We’d play music and sing to him, make up silly songs about him, and when he was not feeling well, “Soft Kitty” would help him relax and fall asleep.
And when it came to Molly – “his girl” – he could not get enough of her. He’d seek her out, join her for naps, groom her (and asked her to groom him). Even as Milo was losing steam to arthritis and began having mobility issues, one jingle of her bell would summon him to her. Milo would leave his food, a sunbeam, or even the most comfy place, to go find her. We have so many photos of them cuddling, mutual grooming, and tag-teaming for treats. They even had meetings at the kitty fountain, and he’d send her to us to get us to do their bidding, like go outside or get a treat.
Over the Rainbow Bridge
We had to say good bye to Milo on a Tuesday night, after an unexpected rapid acceleration of a preexisting health condition. Although he had seen his gradual slowing down over time with his arthritis and overall health, he continued to do all the things he loved to do.
We didn’t, however, expect him not to come home with us after what became the final visit to the pet hospital. His absence was instantly noticeable. As was little Molly’s confusion over an empty cat carrier. We put his collar in it so she could perhaps understand, but she is struggling.
I want to end this on a positive note, however.
Milo had the heart of a lion, the behavior of a tiger (he chuffed!!), and always seemed more of a puma cub than a cat because of his size. He loved his life, he loved us, and the world was so much better with him in it.
Thanks, Buddy. ❤️🌈🐾
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