Milo
A donation was made in memory of Milo by the doctors and staff at Green Lake Animal Hospital on Jan 03, 2019.
Our beloved cat Milo died after a 4 month bout of feline intestinal lymphoma and we will miss him so very much. Milo was just about 14 years old.
We wanted to share Milo's story - and a picture of him for you to see (and for us to enjoy, as we do love looking at them), because he was a remarkable cat and had a wonderful life that deserves celebrating and honoring.
Milo has been a wonderful and essential part of our family for the past 14 years. We cherished him from his very first days as a kitten, when he arrived from Cape Cod in 2004 to keep our cat Satchel company. We loved watching his decade-long friendship with Satchel develop, as well as his remarkable patience with our daughter, and his begrudging acceptance of (and eventual love for) Victor and Bloom (our daughter's kitten).
We will remember Milo most for his remarkable dignity, his constant chatter, and his prodigious appetite. He was also incredibly handsome (as you can see from the pictures) and remarkably soft (clearly an important quality for a cat). He was half Somali and half Abyssinian and had this remarkable coat of fur and a tail with a black tip that looked like someone had dipped it in paint. A tail that would puff out like a pipe cleaner when he spotted another cat or a squirrel through the window, or when he was scrapping with Satchel or Bloom.
Milo loved to eat. Didn't matter what. He'd eat it. He could hear a tin can being opened even if he was fast asleep upstairs. When we needed to pack him up to take him to Orcas Island (he hated the car trips and would hide if he suspected he'd be cooped up in the carrier), we'd get out the can opener and just turn it like we were opening a tin can and he'd come running. He was always a sucker for that can opener. At dinner time, even as recently as a couple of days ago, he'd walk over to Julie's seat and look up at her or reach up for a taste of whatever we were having. I'm happy that during his last days, even with the lymphoma all but eliminating his appetite, he still was motivated to beg for and get some salmon and some rock fish, which he enjoyed.
For a long time it was hard to pick up Milo and just pet him. He'd never just sit in your lap because you wanted him to. He'd squirm and run off. We'd often say that "Milo only lets you love him on his own terms". However, these last few years, after Satchel died, his personality softened, and as he became the senior cat in the house he became even more lovable, and incredibly and outwardly loving towards us, and even more of a friend and companion.
The last month or so was very hard for him because he lost so much weight because of the disease in his intestines.
Nevertheless, he remained dignified and proper to the very end, and he spent the past week perched on the couch, occasionally eating, allowing us to spend time with him, and from time to time curling up in the sunbeams that hit upon the couch or graced the rug in the living room.
We hope that his journey from Massachusettes to Philadelphia to Seattle, and his journey through life was as joyful for him as it was for us. We will miss Milo immensely and will always remember him with great love and affection.
We wanted to share Milo's story - and a picture of him for you to see (and for us to enjoy, as we do love looking at them), because he was a remarkable cat and had a wonderful life that deserves celebrating and honoring.
Milo has been a wonderful and essential part of our family for the past 14 years. We cherished him from his very first days as a kitten, when he arrived from Cape Cod in 2004 to keep our cat Satchel company. We loved watching his decade-long friendship with Satchel develop, as well as his remarkable patience with our daughter, and his begrudging acceptance of (and eventual love for) Victor and Bloom (our daughter's kitten).
We will remember Milo most for his remarkable dignity, his constant chatter, and his prodigious appetite. He was also incredibly handsome (as you can see from the pictures) and remarkably soft (clearly an important quality for a cat). He was half Somali and half Abyssinian and had this remarkable coat of fur and a tail with a black tip that looked like someone had dipped it in paint. A tail that would puff out like a pipe cleaner when he spotted another cat or a squirrel through the window, or when he was scrapping with Satchel or Bloom.
Milo loved to eat. Didn't matter what. He'd eat it. He could hear a tin can being opened even if he was fast asleep upstairs. When we needed to pack him up to take him to Orcas Island (he hated the car trips and would hide if he suspected he'd be cooped up in the carrier), we'd get out the can opener and just turn it like we were opening a tin can and he'd come running. He was always a sucker for that can opener. At dinner time, even as recently as a couple of days ago, he'd walk over to Julie's seat and look up at her or reach up for a taste of whatever we were having. I'm happy that during his last days, even with the lymphoma all but eliminating his appetite, he still was motivated to beg for and get some salmon and some rock fish, which he enjoyed.
For a long time it was hard to pick up Milo and just pet him. He'd never just sit in your lap because you wanted him to. He'd squirm and run off. We'd often say that "Milo only lets you love him on his own terms". However, these last few years, after Satchel died, his personality softened, and as he became the senior cat in the house he became even more lovable, and incredibly and outwardly loving towards us, and even more of a friend and companion.
The last month or so was very hard for him because he lost so much weight because of the disease in his intestines.
Nevertheless, he remained dignified and proper to the very end, and he spent the past week perched on the couch, occasionally eating, allowing us to spend time with him, and from time to time curling up in the sunbeams that hit upon the couch or graced the rug in the living room.
We hope that his journey from Massachusettes to Philadelphia to Seattle, and his journey through life was as joyful for him as it was for us. We will miss Milo immensely and will always remember him with great love and affection.
