12/08/2025
PORCH GUY (aka Oliver, Ollie)💔
With loving someone comes the inevitable heartache — and in between, we squeeze in as much love, laughter and care as we can to fill our memory’s treasure chest. As I’ve been grieving the loss of my last three personal fur babies, Random Rescuer has also been walking through its own quiet heartbreaks — ones I haven’t shared until now. The last third of 2025 has been unimaginably hard, and it hasn’t eased up.
On Saturday, November 15, 2025, surrounded by so much love, we said goodbye to our sweet, quirky, brave Porch Guy — also known as Oliver, or Ollie. His health decline spiraled in that final week. His little body, which had been fighting long before we ever met him, simply grew too tired.
Ollie found a family in so many of us — in his rescuer Jiha, in this rescue, in all of you, in his incredible vet Dr. Marin and the whole Kahu AH team, and especially in his foster moms, Jo and Britney. They loved him so deeply. They did everything asked of them and more to support his health and emotional needs, and they gave him a life filled with comfort, joy, and absolute belonging. When Ollie was confirmed to be palliative, they opened their hearts even wider and committed to giving him a safe, loving home for however long he was meant to stay. He knew nothing but love.
Ollie became part of their family. He hogged the sofa, slept in their bed, stole their food, played with the home décor (oops), reminded them that even well-intentioned cats sometimes miss the litter box (double oops), wrapped them around his paws, and kept them on a feeding schedule that left them bleary-eyed and begging for mercy, lol. Porch Guy adored his foodies and believed his restaurant should run 24/7 — settling only for early-morning wake-ups and late-night snacks.
Porch Guy came to us earlier this year after landing on my friend’s porch. We couldn’t agree on a name, so I jokingly called him Porch Guy — and it stuck. His medical team always had to check who “Oliver” was, because to them he was Porch Guy too.
During his months with us he endured so much: a toe amputation, a dental, a neuter, urinary issues, a kidney infection, advanced FIV (an autoimmune disorder), and ultimately a mycobacterial infection, anemia and a positive FeLV test near the end which treatment could not support well enough. He had surgery, countless tests, and more interventions than most cats experience in a lifetime. But through all of it, Oliver was a warrior in the gentlest, sweetest way — moving through each hurdle like it was nothing, living as though he were perfectly healthy. He was happy, even joyful, right up until his body gave out. When that moment came, his moms stepped in with everything they had, hand-feeding him with hope. But it became clear that this wasn’t a hurdle he could push through.
Ollie was done fighting. After everything he’d already survived, we had to honor what he was telling us. It felt too soon — painfully, unfairly soon. We all knew he was palliative, but he never showed us on the outside just how sick he was on the inside. That ability to hide how sick he was, allowed us to believe he’d be celebrating 2026 with us. Maybe that was his gift: letting us enjoy him without the heaviness of watching a slow decline. Instead, when he chose to go, it was sudden. He didn’t suffer — a blessing for him. But our hearts shattered because there was no extra time to prepare, no gentle lead-in to goodbye. Only the realization that we could no longer steer the path he was on.
Life isn’t always fair. Ollie was so young — barely four years old. He spent long enough on the street to arrive to us in terrible shape, but he lived long enough to know real love, real comfort, and real family. In the eight months he was with us, he lived as fully as his body allowed. And when it was time, he crossed the rainbow bridge with paws overflowing with the love we all poured into him.
He leaves behind hearts both broken and full — broken because we miss him, and full because we had the privilege of loving him at all.
What a gift he was.💛🌈🪽
