We can’t improve what we don’t understand. And we can’t begin to understand the full picture if we never take the time to document it.
It often starts the same way, again and again. A cat has chronic diarrhea. The owner takes it to a veterinarian, who does a fecal test — most often an in-office fecal smear. The test comes back normal. Maybe it comes back normal three times. The cat is put on a bland diet, then a different diet, then a probiotic, then metronidazole, maybe even secnidazole. Months pass. The owner starts to feel like they are failing their cat, or like they are imagining it.
Often the answer was there the whole time, and the test that would have found it was not the test that was run. A routine fecal test finds this organism about 14% of the time when it is genuinely there. Nobody in that story did anything incompetent. The information simply was not in the room.
Sometimes a breeder purchases a new kitten for their cattery and tries to do everything correctly. They have documents that say the tests are clear, or maybe just the verbal all-clear, but they know they need to run their own tests before introducing the kitten to the cats in their cattery — so they run a routine PCR. It comes back positive for Tritrichomonas foetus / blagburni, and they suddenly don’t know what to do with the vision they had for their cattery, or what to do with this beautiful kitten that could put every cat they have at risk. The implications could be severe, and the kitten didn’t ask to come from an ignorant or unknowing breeder — but the new breeder didn’t sign up for a sick kitten either. If that is the position you are in, there is a path for catteries and breeders →
Then there are rescues who may have never come across it in all their years of animal welfare work. They intake a purebred with chronic diarrhea that the owners had been investigating but could no longer afford to investigate or treat, improperly, unknowingly. So they too struggle as owners do, and finally get a PCR. But where to go from there, when it’s hard enough to place healthy cats — let alone one with chronic diarrhea and a treatment that can be ineffective, often needing placement as a single cat in a home without others?
I run a feline rescue and sanctuary, and the cats I look after are the ones other places cannot easily manage — including cats carrying this infection. That means I have spent a great deal of time doing the unglamorous parts: so much diarrhea management, cleaning significantly soiled litter boxes, bathing incontinent cats, calculating medication doses, just for infections to never fully clear, and the long conversations with people who are frightened and have been told contradictory things.
It also means I have seen the parts that never make it into the literature. I have seen cats improve, seem like they may be ready to test negative, but never actually make it there — and relapse. I have seen cats spend weeks in catios and cage banks for a treatment that did not hold, and come out changed. I’ve seen a cat mentally deteriorate in isolation, become anorexic as she gave up the will to live, and need intensive care to rebound. I’ve had to euthanise a beautiful soul of a cat who just couldn’t rebound. I have seen households spend money they did not have on products that were never going to work. None of that is in a journal, and all of it is real.
There is excellent research on this organism. Almost all of it was produced by one laboratory over more than two decades, and almost none of it is written for the person holding the cat. What an owner finds instead is a mixture of clinic handouts, forum threads and commercial pages, some of it years out of date, some of it confidently wrong, and very little of it telling them what to actually do on a Tuesday. That does not make the research not valuable — it is just one facet of this devastating infection.
And the reality is that this gap costs cats. It costs them months of untreated disease, unnecessary isolation, and sometimes their homes. And it lands hardest on the people with the least access — the small rescue with no staff veterinarian, the foster with one bathroom and three cats, the owner who cannot afford to shop around for answers.
So this project has four audiences and one standard: everything in it is cited, everything uncertain is labeled uncertain, and nothing is delivered to you that the evidence does not support.
I am not a veterinarian, and this site does not give veterinary advice or doses. It exists to make the conversation with a veterinarian shorter and better, not to replace it. Where I describe something from my own work rather than from a paper, it is labeled as field experience, so you can weigh it as that.
I would rather be corrected than be trusted. If something here is wrong, the corrections log is public: every entry is dated, and nothing a reader relied on is changed without one.
A place where owners and fosters can find reliable information without having to piece together answers from scattered studies, old forum posts, and months of trial and error. A resource a shelter can print, keep on hand, and use to help the next cat who needs it. A place a veterinarian feels confident sending a client.
And eventually, something more.
I want this project to help build a clearer picture of what Tritrichomonas foetus looks like in the real world — not just in published studies, but across the experiences of the people and animals living through it. With enough voluntarily reported cases, we may begin to identify patterns, recognize unanswered questions, and help inform research that still needs to be done.
That includes questions that extend beyond diagnosis and treatment. What happens to these cats over time? What are the welfare implications of prolonged or repeated isolation? How do extended isolation protocols affect their stress, socialisation, and quality of life? Where are the gaps between what we know and what we still need to understand?
I don’t pretend that a collection of reported cases can answer every question. But I believe those experiences can help us identify the questions worth asking — and, hopefully, help researchers investigate them.
If you’ve cared for a cat with Tritrichomonas, your experience matters. Your case is worth recording.
Whether you’re a veterinarian, a shelter worker, a foster, or an owner trying to navigate this diagnosis, I hope you’ll consider contributing to a growing body of information that could help the cats who come after yours.
We can’t improve what we don’t understand. And we can’t begin to understand the full picture if we never take the time to document it.
I will never let The Feline Tritrichomonas Project turn into something where I profit from the desperation of people just wanting to help their cats.
I will not accept kickbacks for recommending medications or supplements, receive payment for promoting medical treatments, or allow financial incentives to influence the research I share, the resources I recommend, or the information I provide.
The evidence will never be for sale, and your trust is not a marketing opportunity.
I do, however, believe in sharing practical resources that make life a little easier. There will be an optional list of products I’ve personally used in my own rescue — from cleaning supplies to disposable litter boxes and affordable litter for those seasons when you’re going through it by the truckload.
Some of those links may be affiliate links, meaning I may earn a small commission if you choose to purchase through them, at no additional cost to you. Those commissions can help cover the cost of maintaining this project and caring for the animals in my personal and rescue care.
There is no pressure to purchase anything, and you will never need to buy something to access the information here. I’ll be transparent about affiliate links, and I’ll never present a product as a medical necessity simply because it could earn me a commission.
You can also see the product, copy the product name, insert it in your browser, and never click the link — and I will never collect a commission. That is perfectly acceptable too. I am not here to make millions. I just want to host this resource and buy cat food and litter.
This project exists to make reliable information accessible, support better outcomes for cats, and help the people who care for them feel a little less alone. The cats come first. The evidence comes first. Honesty comes first. Everything else comes after that.
