Milo was almost two months old.
A tiny kitten from Dahyeh.
A baby who was born into war… and never knew anything else.
We rescued him yesterday, along with Cindy and two other cats.
He was so small… so fragile… and completely blind.
The vet told us his eyes were severely infected, most likely from the dust, debris, and toxins of the explosions.
There was still a small hope… maybe, just maybe, he could regain a little vision with treatment.
He ate.
He responded.
He felt… okay.
We thought he was safe.
We brought him to APC.
We fed him.
We promised him he would be okay.
That he would be treated.
That he would finally have a chance.
Today, we found him.
We thought he was sleeping.
He wasn’t.
Milo passed away quietly… in his sleep.
No cries.
No warning.
No second chance.
Just gone.
And this is what breaks us the most…
He didn’t even get the chance to live.
He was born into war.
He lost his sight before he could understand the world.
And before he could experience safety, love, or even a normal day… he left.
We don’t know what these animals are breathing.
We don’t know what these explosions are leaving behind in the air, in their tiny bodies.
But we are seeing it.
Animals who look “okay”…
eat… respond… survive…
and then suddenly collapse.
What is happening is deeper than what we can see.
For humans, the consequences may take years to appear.
But for the smallest, the weakest… like Milo…
the impact is immediate.
We are heartbroken.
We are exhausted.
And we are scared for all the others still out there.
Milo… we are so sorry.
We promised you safety… and we were too late.
Rest softly, little one 🤍