This tiny kitten is still burning with fever—but today, she ate on her own

She weighs barely a pound, hooked up to fluids in a hospital cage. Her fever hasn’t budged from 103.4°F. But Pineapple is still here—still fighting.

She looked so small today—barely visible against the soft pink of her hospital bed. But this morning, we heard the best news: Pineapple is eating again.

Her fever remains stubbornly high. Her bloodwork still hasn’t come back. But she’s brighter. More alert. A little more like herself.

The vet said if she continues to improve, they’ll begin reducing her IV fluids and switch her to oral antibiotics. If she tolerates that, it’s a good sign she’s stabilizing.

Her primary doctor will see her again tonight. Maybe we’ll have more answers then. Maybe we’ll know when she can finally come home.

Olivia found Pineapple on a rainy Thursday afternoon—soaked, crying, barely breathing. She wrapped her in a towel and whispered, “You’re safe now.”

Pineapple was too young to eat on her own. Olivia bottle-fed her every few hours, watched her grow into a little purring shadow. She played, climbed, curled up at night tucked under Olivia’s chin.

Until last week, when everything changed.

She stopped eating. Grew hot to the touch. Limp. Her vet called it “concerning”—the understatement of the year.

They admitted her, hooked her up to fluids, started IV antibiotics. Olivia stayed up all night, refreshing her phone, praying for updates.

For two days, Pineapple was silent. But then, on day three—she ate.

Just a little.

But it was something.

Now, every tiny step forward—every spoonful eaten, every sleepy meow—feels like a miracle.

She’s not better. Not yet.

But she’s still here.

And Olivia? She’ll be waiting at the door when it’s time to bring her home. Arms open. Heart full. Because love, sometimes, is just refusing to leave when things get hard.

And Pineapple—tiny as she is—has never stopped trying.