16 Years with Tread: A Rescue Story

Hi, my name is Tyler Koch, and I'm reaching out during one of the hardest moments of my life.

I never planned to have a cat — but 16 years ago, fate had other ideas.

Tread came into my life as a tiny, dehydrated kitten found on the side of a highway. My friend pulled over, crawled into the bushes, and rescued him. He was likely thrown from a car — and to this day, he never liked the sound of large vehicles.

From the moment I saw him prance out of the bathroom like a little grey Oliver (from Oliver & Company), I was smitten. I didn’t want the responsibility, but I wanted him. So I made the deal: I’d take the kitten... and I couldn’t change his name — Tread.

From that day on, we were inseparable.

Tread wasn’t just a pet — he was my best friend, my grounding force, my daily joy. He played fetch, came every time I called, sat in on every gaming session, and saw me out the door every morning. Everyone who’s met me has probably heard me talk to him. He was the loudest, funniest, most loyal companion I could have ever hoped for.

He even had a sense of humor — the only plants he ever ate were the ones I loved most. As if to say, “How dare you love anything more than me?”

His decline came so fast. One day, I realized he had lost too much weight. He stopped greeting me. He stopped eating. I had no money, but I couldn’t sit by and do nothing. With a friend’s help, we got him to a clinic. It looked like kidney failure. We tried fluids, food, love — everything we could.

On May 24th, I knew we had only hours left. Thanks to the kindness of another friend, I found an in-home care service. Somehow, they had one last appointment that day. Tread held on for every second we could have together. He passed in my arms, just as he deserved — safe, warm, and loved.

Now I need help.

I'm asking for support to cover the costs of Tread’s final care — the in-home service, cremation, his paw prints, and a clay keepsake. On top of everything, I’m recovering from a serious scooter accident that left me with two broken ribs and a fractured shoulder blade. The bills are overwhelming.

If you’re able to donate anything at all, it would mean the world. Every dollar helps me honor Tread’s memory and manage the weight of this moment. And when I’m able, I promise to pay it forward.

Thank you for reading, for caring, and for being part of this farewell.

With love and deep gratitude,

Tyler Koch