10/15/2026
Farewell to Our Beloved Boris
Yesterday, with broken hearts but immense gratitude, we said goodbye to one of the most extraordinary souls ever to call Broome Animal Sanctuary home.
Yesterday, we lost our beloved Boris.
There are some losses that leave an impossible silence behind. Boris was one of those rare individuals whose presence filled every corner of the sanctuary. His loss is profound, and the ache of saying goodbye is one we know we will carry for a very long time.
Yet today, as much as we grieve, we celebrate.
Because being Boris' caregivers was one of the greatest privileges and joys of our lives.
Over the weekend, Boris let us know he was growing tired. In true Boris fashion, he gave us one final gift: a few precious days to prepare our hearts as much as possible for the goodbye we knew was coming. Friends came to spend extra time with him, sharing quiet moments, gentle words, and endless affection. Everyone wanted him to know what he had always been to us, not just loved, but deeply admired.
Boris was never "just a pig."
He was an ambassador.
A teacher.
A giant soul whose kindness, resilience, and gentle heart shined through his beautiful golden eyes.
Nearly eight years ago, on a bitterly cold winter night, we received a call that would forever change our lives. A farmer who had fallen on difficult times faced losing his farm and desperately wanted a different future for Boris. He did not want him sent to slaughter and reached out to Broome Animal Sanctuary for help.
The weather was brutal. Ice and snow made reaching Boris nearly impossible. For two weeks we visited him every single day, bringing food, fruits, vegetables, and fresh thawed water. We couldn't safely enter his stall set-up, but we could reach in to touch him and reassure him that we would not leave him behind.
Every day we promised him we would get him home.
And every day, he waited.
Then, thanks to a strange mid-winter warm spell and a little luck, we were finally able to reach him with our trailer and transport him to Cornell. After weeks of treatment and evaluation, Boris finally arrived at BAS.
To say he was intimidating would be an understatement.
He was enormous.
He was loud.
He loved snow so much that we quickly nicknamed him the "Snow Beast."
But it didn't take long to discover the truth.
Boris wasn't fierce at all.
Boris was a giant mush.
For years he lived exactly as every pig deserves to live. He free-ranged, soaked up the sunshine, rolled in the snow, ate snacks, made friends, and lived without a care in the world.
Then came the devastating diagnosis.
About four years ago, Boris began slowing down. A visit to Cornell revealed severe degenerative joint disease and chronic arthritis. The damage was extensive, and we were told his comfort and future were uncertain. We prepared ourselves for the possibility that our time together might be coming to an end and euthanasia was even discussed.
But Boris had other plans, he wanted to come home, so we brought him home for supportive and palliative care.
After treatments, pain management, supplements, and lots of love, Boris gradually began improving. What we were told might be weeks or months became four more incredible years.
Four more years of sunshine.
Four more years of naps.
Four more years of friendship.
Four more years of being Boris.
During that time, he formed a beautiful bond with two new rescues that came from a similar situation as Boris, Lucy and Little Pig. Together they became an inseparable family.
When Lucy passed away a few months ago, Boris and Little Pig grew even closer.
Over the past month, we started seeing signs that Boris was slowing down again. We increased his pain management, but Boris made one thing very clear.
He did not want stall rest.
He wanted sunshine.
He wanted fresh air.
He wanted to be with Little Pig.
And what Boris wanted, Boris got.
Some of our most cherished recent memories are of Boris stretched out in the warm sun while Little Pig remained faithfully by his side. Looking back now, we realize she understood what we were struggling to accept.
Boris was getting tired.
His spirit remained strong, but his body had carried him as far as it could.
Last week, Boris walked into his stall for the final time.
Over the weekend, he let us know that his journey was nearing its end.
Through every tear, every goodbye, and every difficult moment, those big golden eyes reassured us that everything would be okay.
Yesterday, they told us it was time.
At 3:00 PM, surrounded by love, our brave and beautiful Boris left this world and crossed the Rainbow Bridge to be reunited with Lucy.
Today, after his family and animal friends have had their chance to say goodbye, Boris will be laid to rest beside Lucy, the girl he loved so dearly.
The days ahead will be difficult.
The sanctuary feels different already.
Quieter.
But what Boris leaves behind is far greater than the sadness we feel today.
He leaves behind a legacy of resilience.
Of forgiveness.
Of second chances.
Of a life that mattered.
Before he left, we told Boris how much we loved him. We thanked him for every lesson, every smile, every laugh, and every moment we were lucky enough to share. He left this world knowing he was loved beyond measure and knowing that we would take care of Little Pig.
We miss you terribly, Boris.
We weren't ready to let you go, but you told us it was time.
Thank you for trusting us nearly eight years ago.
Thank you for fighting so hard.
Thank you for showing us what courage looks like.
Thank you for your friendship.
Fly high, Snow Beast.
Watch over Little Pig.
Watch over all of us.
And someday, when our journeys are complete, we look forward to seeing those big beautiful golden eyes waiting to greet us at the Rainbow Bridge.
We will never stop loving you.
Boris, you will forever be our Snow Beast.
