The Journey to Finding Marshmallow
I’m a cat girl. I grew up with 4 cats and knew when I moved into my own home, I wanted to fill it with cats! Before I met my partner, Angelo, I already had two cats, Wolfgang and Captain Barbossa. After a couple of years together, Angelo and I decided it was time to add another cat to our family. We quickly realized we had completely different tastes in cats, so Angelo suggested a compromise: he would pick out a cat, I would pick out a cat, and we would get both.
Angelo found a cat he liked right away, and he was in a shelter only an hour away. I took more time, knowing what I wanted my new kitty to look like and I wanted to feel that connection you get when you ‘just know’ it’s right. On PetFinder, I expanded my search from Wisconsin to neighboring states and found my dream kitten in Springfield, Illinois. He was a beautiful white-and-brown kitten with huge ears and big feet, I immediately fell in love – just something so special about this fuzzy boy told me we needed to be together - I applied for his adoption right away.
When I called the shelter, they told me he was sweet but shy, and had been returned for being too "active." I was second on the adoption list, but I refused to lose hope. I prayed every day for him. Finally the shelter called: the first applicant fell through – that fuzzy boy was mine!
The catch? I was in Stevens Point, Wisconsin, and they normally didn't do out-of-state adoptions, but they made an exception with the caveat that I had to pick him up by Friday evening, or I couldn't have him. It was Wednesday afternoon. I quickly scrambled, Angelo was able to cover my work shift, and my mom and I hit the road at 6:00 AM on Friday for a six-hour drive south to Springfield to adopt him.
A Rescue in the Nick of Time
As we neared the address, the neighborhood grew sketchy. The sign outside read "Animal Control Center." We walked inside and realized with horror that this was not a humane society—it was a high-intake kill shelter.
The staff was disorganized and confused when we checked in at the front desk to let them know we were here to pick him up. One worker told us my kitty-boy had been adopted the day before! We were in shock – we just drove 6 hours to get him! They sent us to a tiny room to wait for them to ‘find’ him for what seemed like eternity. We watched out the doorway as a disgruntled worker roughly sorted through the over-saturated kitten room, knocking over a cat tower in the process and frightening all the kittens in the room. It took us a while to figure out this was the lady who was searching for my kitten. She eventually grabbed a stripped brownish kitten and came in and handed him to us saying, "This looks close enough”. What?????
When we refused, she left and we waited for a long time with no return of anyone. Frustrated but determined to find my kitty, my mom and I scoured through the facility ourselves. In a windowless backroom lined with tiny wire cages behind a cleaning cart, I found him on the bottom shelf of cages, masked by the strong smell of toxic floor cleaner. He reached his paws through the bars to touch my hand and I broke down in tears. We found him! And he was incredible, so sweet, so beautiful, – we had to get him out of there asap!
They let us “visit” him to make sure we wanted to adopt him. My mom and I put him in our cat carrier immediately and headed to the desk to get this done and get out of that creepy place. After a stressfully long, unorganized checkout – where they waived the $100 fee and handed us some strange voucher – it clicked: he was scheduled to be euthanized that day for being there too long. That explained the extreme rush to have to pick him up when we did, and why he was in that room.
My mom and I both wished we could have loaded our car full of all of the cats in that sad room – but we headed out of that building, heavy-hearted, yet as fast as we could and my mom floored it back home.
During the six-hour drive home, we let him out of his carrier. He snuggled on my mom’s lap while she drove, made happy paws, and watched the highway. We discovered he absolutely loved passing semi-trucks! By the time we got home, he had a new name: Marshmallow, after my favorite ‘How I Met Your Mother’ TV series character.
A Confident Homecoming and a Sudden Crash
Marshmallow entered our home, walked around like he owned the place, tail straight in the air with absolute confidence. He immediately strutted up to our other cats, Wolfgang and Captain Barbossa, completely unphased by their initial hissing. He was the happiest kitten… that was Friday … everything changed on Sunday.
Suddenly, Marshmallow became incredibly tired. That night, I heard a loud thud downstairs. I found him sitting stunned at the bottom of the stairs with a runny eye and a slight limp; he had fallen through the railing.
The next morning, his third eyelid was covering 75% of his eye. We ran him into our vet who diagnosed him with conjunctivitis, but over the next few days, his condition plummeted:
He stopped eating.
The limping returned in both back legs. He developed a fever of 105°F.
His gums grew pale, and his breathing slowed.
On Friday, just one week after picking him up for adoption, we rushed him back to the vet to see Dr. Novak.
The Devastating Diagnosis: FIP
Marshmallow’s fever had spiked to 107°F, and his weight had dropped to just four pounds. After an ultrasound and bloodwork, Dr. Novak delivered the devastating news.
"All his symptoms point toward FIP—Feline Infectious Peritonitis."
There was fluid in his abdomen, and his white blood cells were sky-high. Dr. Novak explained that FIP was historically a death sentence, but mentioned an unapproved antiviral medication showing success in the UK, though it was difficult to get and only had a 40% success rate.
Stunned and heartbroken, but not ready to say goodbye, Angelo and I made the choice to fight for this little kitty’s life. Dr. Novak referred us to an emergency vet in Appleton for overnight care to bring his fever down and rule out any internal injuries from his fall.
At the emergency clinic, an ultrasound confirmed his organs were intact from the fall, but FIP was highly likely. We decided we would try the antiviral medicines our vet talked about for FIP, but because it was the weekend, we couldn't order the medication since the only place we could get it was closed until Monday. And this kind of medication is not something vet clinics, even emergency veterinarians carried. By Saturday afternoon, his fever spiked again, and his red blood cell count dropped so low he was facing a blood transfusion. The emergency vet told us, "You have a very, very sick kitty."
A Last-Minute Miracle
Feeling defeated and unwilling to put Marshmallow through a blood transfusion, or any other tests at this point, we made the hardest decision of our lives: we would bring him home for one last night and euthanize him the next day. Angelo scheduled the appointment at our primary vet for Sunday at 12:10 PM.
We brought him home, and he weakly spent the night cuddling his brothers and getting love from us. We were exhausted, mentally and physically – the weekend was filled with so much emotion, fear, confusion and devastation. Not to mention the amount of money we spent for all the tests and weekend/after hours time spent at the emergency vet. We’re young, we didn’t really have a savings, we knew we’d have to put most of this on Care Credit cards. And we just didn’t know what to do. It was really rough. Especially since it looked like I wouldn’t end up with him at the end of it all.
On Monday morning, just two hours before his scheduled euthanasia, Marshmallow did something incredible. He got up on his own, walked feebly over to us, rubbed against our legs, and began to meow loudly—something he hadn't had the strength to do in days.
He was telling us he wasn't ready to go.
I called my mom, asking what we should do? She said euthanizing is Final – don’t do it until you are 100% sure – there’s no coming back or changing your mind after its done. We both agreed.
In an instant, our plans changed. Angelo canceled the euthanasia appointment and set out to find the medication, while I called a specialty pharmacy. We rushed Marshmallow back to Castlerock so Dr. Novak could draw a fresh sample of his abdominal fluid for the official FIP test and drain some of the fluid to make him more comfortable.
Healing, Tai Chi, and 84 Days of Hope
We ordered the medication, which was set to arrive on Tuesday morning. While we waited, we syringed water, broth, and baby food to keep him hydrated, whispering to him to just hold on for one more day.
The shipping was delayed; we weren’t going to receive it until Tuesday evening! Could our kitty hold on for another day? My anxiety and fear went through the roof. Hours, even minutes at this point, made all the difference in hope of his survival.
Finally, at 6:18 PM Tuesday, the package arrived. At 6:23 PM, Angelo orally administered Marshmallow's very first dose.
Later that night, my mom came over. The look on her face when she saw his listless body lying on our bed freaked Angelo and I both out. My mom did animal husbandry her entire life, she knew a lot about animals. I didn’t want to see the fear in her eyes as she picked him up and held him for several hours that night. As she was holding him, she told us that while teaching her weekly Tai Chi class of about 40 people earlier that evening, she stopped to tell Marshmallow's story. From 6:20 PM to 6:30 PM, the entire class sent Marshmallow healing energy – imagining they were holding him in their arms, gently rocking him like a baby and stroking his fur symbolically while sending him healing intentions. We all cried realizing that prayer, intention, and his first life-saving dose happened at the exact same moment in time without any of us realizing it.
The next day, Dr. Novak called to confirm the official Feline Infectious Peritonitis diagnosis. But the miracle was already underway.
The First Survivor
Within a week, Marshmallow's fever was gone, his limp disappeared, and his appetite returned. At his two-week checkup, Dr. Novak was in shock. His bloodwork showed his red blood cells were back to a perfectly healthy range.
Dr. Novak later shared some incredible news: Marshmallow was the very first cat in their clinic's history to get FIP and survive! Our miracle kitty!
I won’t lie, the commitment to timely scheduled administration of medicine, and the temperature taking, and all the other care, almost ‘walking on eggshells of hope’ during this treatment was a daunting journey.
But on October 17th, 2025, Marshmallow took his 84th and final dose of medication. Today, he has no bloated belly, no fever, a healthy weight, and most importantly, the bright light has returned to his eyes.
He is a survivor and an example of hope and not giving up, even when it seemed like the end was the only option.
Marshmallow’s Mission was born out of our darkest hours. We want his story to stand as a beacon of hope for every pet parent facing this disease: FIP is treatable, and survival is possible, even probable.
Marshmallows miracle gave inspiration to Marshmallow’s Mission so every FIP cat owner doesn’t have to go through this journey alone. We want cat parents to feel empowered with knowledge, resources, and community support needed to fight FIP. We believe no cat’s story should end with a preventable diagnosis, and we advocate with heart and purpose to ensure that every “Marshmallow” gets their miracle.
The first time meeting my sweet kitten, Marshmallow! After driving six hours to get him, we were told they thought he got adopted already. After franticly looking for him throughout the kill shelter, we finally found him and immediately took him home.
Little did we know this was one of the first signs of FIP. Marshmallow experienced systemic inflammation, and an extremely high fever which caused limping and discomfort.
With only a couple hours until Marshmallow's euthanization appointment, he got up and walked over to us on his own. He meowed at us, and in that moment we knew he did not want to go. We instantly decided to cancel the appointment and pursue the 84 day FIP treatment.