Bean is a 1-year-old Domestic Shorthair Cat in Seattle, WA, who needs $1,516 for Emergency Intestinal Surgery.

Bean’s name fits him well. The runt of the litter, he’s small and scrappy—and he loves as hard as he survives. He and his brother entered our lives after we saw photos of them at 3 months old on our local community FB page. My partner, Pete, and I fell in love. They’ve been with us ever since—for a year and 4 months. They're urban indoor kitties who dream of a yard full of bugs and birdies.

Bean is a lover with a soft warble that turns a bit yowly at mealtime. He usually snarfs his food quickly and then goes for his brother’s, as Neko eats his food at a normal pace. But Neko’s so laid back that he doesn’t seem to mind. Bean’s favorite game ever is the teaser toy—a.k.a., The Bird. He gets SERIOUS AIR. He is SUPER KITTY. At night, his sleeping spot is right between mom and dad.

By day, Bean's been known to sleep or creep around under our bed, which is cavernous and inter-dimensional. We hear strange noises at times (which means he’s probably shredding important documents. He and his brother are feline versions of Inspector Clouseau and Cato from the old Pink Panther movies. One minute, playfighting the apartment into shambles; the next, snuggling and bathing each other.

When Bean began vomiting and didn’t stop, Pete took him to the ER. But he continued to get worse. Our vet gave him anti-nausea medication and intravenous fluids for 4 days until a 2nd X-ray showed an obstruction in his intestine that needed to be removed that night or he wouldn't make it. Dr. P & Dr. Jones stayed late to do his surgery on a Friday night, even knowing we couldn't pay.

We're a hairstylist and preschool teacher hit hard by the pandemic. This came at a time when neither of us makes much more than minimum wage—not nearly enough, let alone any extra. Our incredible vet worked out a payment plan, but we're already stretched razor-thin.