In Loving Memory of Boots – The Matriarch of the Sanctuary

Today, I share the passing of Boots, a quiet but powerful soul whose presence has shaped the heart and history of our sanctuary from the very beginning. I found her laying peacefully beside a bush not long ago. She was wrapped gently, with love and respect, and tomorrow she will be laid to rest — not just as another cat, but as the last of the originals. The end of an era.

Boots came into our lives around 2011, already a mature cat, likely three or four years old at the time. She appeared as quietly as she left, with a quiet strength and fierce independence that defined her spirit. Before I could have her spayed, she brought life into the world — three litters, each with their own story, their own legacy. Her first litter were elusive, and despite my best efforts, I was never able to catch them. But Boots didn’t abandon them — she stayed nearby until they were old enough to survive on their own, and then she vanished for nearly a year.

When she returned, she was pregnant once more. This time, I was able to bring her and the litter inside. That second litter was fragile, and we lost all but one — a little soul named Patch. Patch became a cornerstone in our journey too, eventually battling FeLV and moving to Pennsylvania for hospice care. Boots and Patch were close — there are tender photos of them lying together, their bond undeniable. They were scheduled to be fixed on the same day at a vet in another county, back when we had so few resources. But Boots, ever the escape artist, slipped away before her appointment and was gone once more for nearly a year.

In spring 2013, she returned — once again with kittens. That final litter, along with another I had found just a month before, became the very first cats I ever posted about on Instagram. They were the start of something bigger. Those early photos, those early stories, gave life to the dream of building a true sanctuary — and Boots was at the center of it all. Without her, there might not have been a sanctuary at all.

Among her many kittens, only one remains with me now — Long Hair Kali, a beautiful soul and now twelve years old. I believe Boots herself lived to be about sixteen or seventeen. Her body grew tired over time, and though I can’t know for certain, I suspect cancer finally took its toll. That quiet decline is all too familiar with the older cats. She showed signs, and in my heart, I knew her time was drawing near.

Boots was more than just a cat. She was a foundation. She was strength, endurance, mystery, and love. Her presence has always been woven into the rhythm of this place — the sanctuary she helped inspire. She was a mother, a survivor, and a symbol of resilience. The years with her were not always easy, but they were full of purpose, and her life helped pave the way for so many others to find safety, care, and love.

Saying goodbye to Boots feels like closing the last page of the first chapter of our sanctuary’s story. She will be dearly missed — not just by me, but by the many lives she quietly touched. Run free now, dear Boots. Say hello to everyone waiting on the other side. Let them know we remember, we love, and one day, we will all be together again. Thank you for everything, sweet girl.