When Boston cat mum Lea realised she hadn’t seen her orange tabby all day, she knew something was off.
Eli is no shy house cat.
At seven years old, he loves fresh air and happily greets people around the neighbourhood.
But he never wanders too far, and he never disappears for hours.
So when the usual spots turned up empty, Lea’s concern grew.
She checked nearby corners and even noticed a big insulation truck parked next door.
At the time, it didn’t mean much.
But an hour later, her phone rang, and her roommate’s voice told her everything she needed to hear.
“Oh my God, it’s Eli. He got sprayed.”
Lea sprinted home faster than she ever had in her life. And when she arrived, she was met with a sight she could hardly believe.
Her once-fluffy orange tabby was unrecognisable. His face and body were covered in hardened, ivory-coloured foam.
His whiskers were stuck, his eyes sealed shut, and his mouth almost completely closed.
Eli had wandered into the neighbor’s attic while workers sprayed foam insulation and had become trapped in the mess.
It looked disastrous. But somehow, against all odds, there was still a tiny bubble around his nose so he could breathe.
Lea rushed him straight to VEG Emergency in Newton, phoning ahead to let them know she was coming.
On the other end of the line, Dr. Thamires Nunes was confused.
Cats come in with all sorts of emergencies, but foam insulation? That was a new one.
“We’re not groomers, but we can help,” Dr. Nunes thought. Then Eli walked in, and the team realised just how serious the situation was.
The ER staff wasted no time.
They gave Eli pain medication, sedated him, and gathered a small army of nurses.
Five or six people grabbed whatever tools they could find and began working.
Some used clippers, others snapped away chunks of foam by hand. It was a careful, painstaking job.
“We just started hacking along,” Dr. Nunes explained. “It was straight shaving and cracking and breaking stuff up.”
The process took over two hours.
Throughout it all, the team worried about more than just the foam.
Could Eli see? Did any of it get into his eyes? Did he swallow some while trying to escape?
Dr. Nunes called the ASPCA poison hotline to check if the spray was toxic. Luckily, it wasn’t.
And because Eli’s fur was so thick, the foam stuck to his coat instead of burning his skin.
Piece by piece, they cleared him until finally, Eli was free.
But there was one big catch. He had no fur left.
“He looked like a sphynx cat,” Lea laughed. “It was so funny. The second I brought him home, he acted like nothing had happened.”
For Eli, it was just another adventure. For his owner and the emergency team, it was a miracle.
Over the next two months, his fur slowly grew back.
The fluffy orange coat returned, his whiskers stood tall again, and Eli reclaimed his post as the local celebrity of the street.
Neighbours were thrilled to see him lounging on the front steps, soaking up attention like he always had.
“He’s like the neighbourhood celebrity cat,” Lea said proudly.
As for Dr. Nunes and her team, Eli’s case is one they’ll never forget.
“No one has ever seen anything even remotely like what happened to Eli,” she admitted.
What started as a fun adventure in a neighbour’s attic had nearly ended in disaster.
Instead, thanks to quick-thinking rescuers and a dedicated emergency team, Eli lived to purr another day.
And judging by his confident strut around Boston, the near miss hasn’t made him any less fearless.