Some time towards the end of March 2024, we noticed that Big Boy, one of the kitties at our cat cafe, had a slight limp. We figured he’d jumped from a catwalk and landed funny, so we decided to keep an eye on it. The limp became more pronounced, and we took him for X-rays. Nothing was found wrong structurally, so we took him back to the cafe. About a week went by, and his back legs were not only weaker, he now flinched when touched. So, we made another vet appointment. On April 19, the day of the appointment, he fell off the catwalk. He hit a ledge on the way down and lay stunned on the floor. We scooped him up and sped across town to the vet’s. By the time we got there, he could not support his own weight and collapsed on the exam table. We’ve known our vet for close to 30 years, and this always-composed man shocked us by yelling, “Take him to Horizon, now!” At the emergency hospital, we learned our vet had called ahead, and we were met at the door by techs with a gurney. They wheeled Big Boy back, and we waited for the emergency doctor to speak with us. Dr. Degen came in with preliminary results from bloodwork, and after ruling out several possibilities, said it looked like FIP. Although we’d never had a cat with FIP, we knew plenty of folks in rescue who had. While Dr. Degen continued to talk, I started reaching out to them for help. I started with Peter Cohen, founder of ZenByCat, whose mission is to raise awareness and money to find a cure for FIP. I also reached out to two rescue friends who had cats who’d had FIP. Peter Cohen responded first and told us about a private Facebook group that would provide information regarding an experimental drug called GS-441524. More importantly, since (at that time) veterinary personnel could not prescribe it, the group would help us obtain it. Big Boy spent the night at the hospital so they could finish running tests and work to stabilize him. I spent the night reading everything I could about FIP. With the help of the FB group, we found someone about 50 miles away who had a few days’ supply of the drug. Although we’d already used the group’s resources to order a month’s supply, we needed to start treatment immediately. When Blood Boy came home with us the night of April 20th, he could barely move. We set up a large portable kennel for him filled with soft blankets. We decided to start the 84 day protocol in the morning as we were all pretty much exhausted. And so, April 21 became Day 1 for us. For the next 84 mornings, I got up extra early so I could give Big Boy gabapentin at least an hour before the GS-441524 injection. The gabapentin was supposed to take the edge off the pain of the shot. I’d been told that the GS was so strong it could actually leave ulcers on the skin. Big Boy screamed the first few times I gave him the shot, and I sat next to him in his kennel and cried. But, within a week, he was able to sit upright. After 15 days, he was able to walk again. Within a month, he was playing with toys. It seemed each day brought another accomplishment. Hovering in the background, though, was the constant fear of relapse. We’d read heartbreaking accounts of cats who were doing great one day and were dead the next. We weighed him daily, gave him sub-q fluids when needed, let him eat whatever he wanted (mainly Temptations, bone broth, and Churu), and carefully monitored his play time. He taught us how truly fragile life is. We were upset when his 40 day bloodwork came back showing no improvement. We were told not to worry, that sometimes it took the full 84 days to see numbers move. They were right— his 80 day test came back with numbers in the normal range. And so, Big Boy started his 84 day observation period. As much as we were grateful for no more shots, my fear of his relapsing was greater than ever. At some point, though, I had to trust he’d be ok. We let him out of the kennel for longer periods of time, then started giving him play time with our Maine Coon. Mr Bones hated all of our other cats but, for some reason, decided he loved Big Boy. One day we let Big Boy go out on the downstairs catio, and I almost fainted when I saw him run up to the highest ledge and climb down the fire pole. He was getting stronger every day. His 40 day bloodwork came back within the normal range. And suddenly, my anxiety all but vanished. We no longer kept him in the kennel, but instead allowed him to go in it only when he wanted to. I quit obsessing over what he ate or didn’t eat. I let him play until he was tired of playing. He flourished. And, a few days ago, his 80 day bloodwork came back normal again. Big Boy not only beat FIP, he thoroughly kicked its ass. Many people wondered if he’d go back to the cat cafe and be adopted once cured. We weighed the pros and cons and opted against it. After all, he’d endeared himself to Mr Bones the cat hater. He’d made friends with the dogs. He loved watching birds on the catio. He put up with my endless need to pet him and tell him how good and brave and strong he is. And so, Bigs is home. ❤️