Follow Us!
I am Biscuits.
Biscuits was a very special fur family member for which the nonprofit is named. In all we do, we honor his legacy and how truly special he was!
To our beloved Biscuits…thank you for choosing us to be your family, letting us love you, loving us in return, for all the wonderful memories and super awesome snuggles and purr sessions. Your kitten therapy is and will always be the best!! For every rescue, adoption, social rehabilitation, TNR, relocation effort, and work we do, we not only think of you, but honor you each and every time.
We love you….then, now, always!!
Follow Us!
I am Biscuits.
Biscuits was a very special fur family member for which the nonprofit is named. In all we do, we honor his legacy and how truly special he was!
To our beloved Biscuits…thank you for choosing us to be your family, letting us love you, loving us in return, for all the wonderful memories and super awesome snuggles and purr sessions. Your kitten therapy is and will always be the best!! For every rescue, adoption, social rehabilitation, TNR, relocation effort, and work we do, we not only think of you, but honor you each and every time.
We love you….then, now, always!!
Biscuits Story
Biscuits was a tiny, spunky little runt who appeared one day while I was feeding one of our outdoor cat colonies. I had been caring for this group for almost four months and had never seen any kittens—
let alone him.
He was the cutest thing, so small that he had to climb into the feeding dishes just to get a bite. The other cats wouldn’t let him eat until they were completely finished. When he finally got his turn, he devoured his food, then trotted over and crawled all over me—under my legs, onto my lap, and even inside my purse, where he stole my keys. Eventually, he tired himself out and fell asleep in my lap.
I scooped Biscuits up and brought him home, giving him a bath, a warm meal, and a cozy bed. For the first time in his little life, he could eat without fear, sleep without worry, and stay warm and dry. He was so exhausted that he crashed for 18 hours straight! We kept checking on him, making sure he was okay. When he finally woke up, he was ready to play and soak up all the snuggles he could—and boy, did he. From the moment he popped out from under that deck, Biscuits had already claimed his place in our family. We just didn’t know it yet.
About three weeks later, my son noticed something—Biscuits didn’t seem to hear very well. It turned out he was completely deaf. In the wild, that would have been a death sentence, leaving him vulnerable to danger. But in our home, it didn’t matter one bit. In fact, he was the first deaf cat we’d ever had, and if all deaf cats were like him, we’d adopt more in a heartbeat! Because he couldn’t hear, he wasn’t scared of anything. He rode the shop vac, supervised every activity in the house—DIY projects, laundry, dishes, homework—you name it. Biscuits loved us all equally, and when he wanted snuggle time, you said YES. No wasn’t an option. He was funny, loving, great with the other cats, and just an all-around amazing soul.
Then, in early 2023, we noticed something was off. Biscuits was sleeping more, eating less, and not playing like he used to. Worst of all, snuggles were minimal. A trip to the vet revealed a fever, a distended belly, and lab results that confirmed the heartbreaking diagnosis—FIP. At the time, there were no FDA-approved treatments, and he had already progressed too far for the off-market medication to be an option. Out of the deepest love for him, we made the most painful decision—humane euthanasia. It was gut-wrenching, leaving a void that could never truly be filled. Biscuits had come into our lives like a little whirlwind of love and light, only to leave far too soon—just shy of his second birthday.
At the time, we were in the process of formalizing our 501(c)(3) nonprofit. My 9 year-old daughter and I had already chosen a name and were about to legalize it when we lost Biscuits. She was the one who approached me and asked if we could name the nonprofit after him, so every rescue we took in would honor his memory. I was so proud of her and loved the idea. And so, Biscuits Cat Haven was born.
Looking back, it’s only fitting—Biscuits was our very first rescue, the very first life we saved from our first colony. Now, his name lives on, helping countless other cats find the same love and safety he once did.
Biscuits Story
Biscuits was a tiny, spunky little runt who appeared one day while I was feeding one of our outdoor cat colonies. I had been caring for this group for almost four months and had never seen any kittens—
let alone him.
He was the cutest thing, so small that he had to climb into the feeding dishes just to get a bite. The other cats wouldn’t let him eat until they were completely finished. When he finally got his turn, he devoured his food, then trotted over and crawled all over me—under my legs, onto my lap, and even inside my purse, where he stole my keys. Eventually, he tired himself out and fell asleep in my lap.
I scooped Biscuits up and brought him home, giving him a bath, a warm meal, and a cozy bed. For the first time in his little life, he could eat without fear, sleep without worry, and stay warm and dry. He was so exhausted that he crashed for 18 hours straight! We kept checking on him, making sure he was okay. When he finally woke up, he was ready to play and soak up all the snuggles he could—and boy, did he. From the moment he popped out from under that deck, Biscuits had already claimed his place in our family. We just didn’t know it yet.
About three weeks later, my son noticed something—Biscuits didn’t seem to hear very well. It turned out he was completely deaf. In the wild, that would have been a death sentence, leaving him vulnerable to danger. But in our home, it didn’t matter one bit. In fact, he was the first deaf cat we’d ever had, and if all deaf cats were like him, we’d adopt more in a heartbeat! Because he couldn’t hear, he wasn’t scared of anything. He rode the shop vac, supervised every activity in the house—DIY projects, laundry, dishes, homework—you name it. Biscuits loved us all equally, and when he wanted snuggle time, you said YES. No wasn’t an option. He was funny, loving, great with the other cats, and just an all-around amazing soul.
Then, in early 2023, we noticed something was off. Biscuits was sleeping more, eating less, and not playing like he used to. Worst of all, snuggles were minimal. A trip to the vet revealed a fever, a distended belly, and lab results that confirmed the heartbreaking diagnosis—FIP. At the time, there were no FDA-approved treatments, and he had already progressed too far for the off-market medication to be an option. Out of the deepest love for him, we made the most painful decision—humane euthanasia. It was gut-wrenching, leaving a void that could never truly be filled. Biscuits had come into our lives like a little whirlwind of love and light, only to leave far too soon—just shy of his second birthday.
At the time, we were in the process of formalizing our 501(c)(3) nonprofit. My 9 year-old daughter and I had already chosen a name and were about to legalize it when we lost Biscuits. She was the one who approached me and asked if we could name the nonprofit after him, so every rescue we took in would honor his memory. I was so proud of her and loved the idea. And so, Biscuits Cat Haven was born.
Looking back, it’s only fitting—Biscuits was our very first rescue, the very first life we saved from our first colony. Now, his name lives on, helping countless other cats find the same love and safety he once did.
© Copyright 2025. Biscuits Cat Haven. All rights reserved.
© Copyright 2025. Biscuits Cat Haven. All rights reserved.