For nine wonderful, and sometimes challenging, months, we had the privilege of sharing our lives with Lilo (pronounced “Lee-low”), a cat who completely stole our hearts. He came to us from the streets, extremely sick—anemia, FIV, dental disease, infections, and cancer (though we didn’t know about the cancer at the time). He was a true warrior. From the moment we brought him home, he was perfect for us. His medical conditions never stopped him from giving us his love, and they never deterred us from doing everything we could to care for him, no matter the cost.
With every passing day, as he gained our trust, Lilo revealed more of his gentle, loving nature. There are countless things we adored about him. He had a curious way of roaming the house, always seeking out a new spot for a cozy nap; would meow expectantly at the sound of the treat jar; and loved basking in the sun during our neighborhood walks as I held him. Most of all, he absolutely loved affection—chin scratches, belly rubs, head pets, and just being held.
We celebrated even the smallest milestones with him—coming down the stairs on his own or climbing onto one of his cat trees—because they were reminders of his resilience and growing comfort. Lilo was always by our side: while I worked, during meals, while watching TV, and, my favorite, at night when he would curl up on my chest, my head, or on my wife’s pillow. Those moments were the sweetest, and I’ll miss them most of all.
On the morning of October 7, 2024, we made the hardest decision we’ve ever had to make: to let him rest. We knew the cancer had taken its toll, and we couldn’t bear to see him struggle any longer, no matter how much it hurt us to be without him. That morning, Lilo passed away peacefully in my arms—the place where he always felt safest. In those final moments, I hope the pain he had been experiencing subsided, and that he knew he was going to a better place, even though it meant leaving behind those who loved him most. Lilo’s deep, soothing purrs once filled our home with warmth and love, and now, the pain of his absence is unlike anything I’ve ever known. But part of me takes comfort in this, as it reinforces how special our bond was and will always be. The sadness I feel is a tribute to the love we shared—a reflection of how deeply he mattered to us. I find peace in knowing that his time with us, though too short from our perspective, was filled with joy, safety, and care—things he may not have known before.
We’ll never know what his life was like before he found us, but because it seemed as though humans had failed him in some way, it became our purpose to ensure he felt nothing but love and security in our care. Whatever led him to us, I will always be eternally grateful for it. Ultimately, we believe our mission in Lilo’s life was to give him the love and care he deserved, and his mission was to show us a love unlike anything we’d known. I hold onto his memory in small ways, like talking to him at his memorial every morning and wishing him a goodnight before I head to bed. In the 276 days we had with Lilo, he taught us more about love, resilience, and connection than I can ever express. He was, without question, my soul cat, and I believe our bond will endure far beyond this life. I hope his spirit is at peace now, and I hold onto the hope that we’ll find each other again someday. Grief is love that has nowhere to go, and our endless love for Lilo will always remain. I love you more than I could ever describe.
Rest easy, sweet Lilo—you’ll forever be in our hearts.
