Her name was spelled “wrong.”

Her little brown-bear body had a few extra needs.

And everything, absolutely everything, about Boobalah was perfect.

Her face was perfect.

Round as a cookie, Boobalah was all cheeks and concern. The moment your eyes met, she tilted her head. Have you eaten yet? Are you getting enough riboflavin? Come, sit. Tell me everything. 

Barely larger than a kitten, our pixie-grandma had room for all your stories. Her eyes were incandescent with acceptance. She was interested — genuinely interested — in your poetry, your cholesterol, your crushes, and the things you thought might crush you. Her shoulders were no broader than a bird’s, but strong enough for your tears and your laughter.

Her comedy was perfect.

Some people don’t think cats have a sense of humor, but that means they never met Boobalah. With a perfectly solemn expression, she could turn her (naturally) silly walk into an (intentionally) splashy sashay. She would make the Lobby her runway for your amusement.

Handcrafted from one hundred percent organic love, she could not help but hold all creatures in high regard. Yet this did not keep her from lowbrow humor. She could be diva-dramatic in a diaper, popping peons like Hips in the noggin. Yet, she rushed to reassure, nurturing noggins as though it were her job.

Her work was perfect.

It is a misconception that cats are lazy. Cats have quests. Most of them involve poultry. But Boobalah was born to be here for others. You could be the newest volunteer or the oldest calico. You could burst through the doors singing or burst every bubble in sight. It did not matter. All that mattered was that you and Boobalah were both here, which meant Boobalah was here for the purpose of being here for you.

Her walk was perfect.

The vet record suggests that Boobalah’s unique gait and incontinence were caused by a stroke sometime before we met her. That may well be the case. But the pixie-grandma had a better story.

It was written in her book to draw wavy lines with her tiny toes. She walked with pride and dignity. She wobbled with elegance. And, when she set her sights on a cat or person in need of cuddles, nothing broke her stride.

As for that incontinence, it was scarcely an inconvenience. Grandmas know that everyone has needs. So, Boo needed to be “squeezed.” Is that not just another name for a hug?

Her nickname was perfect.

Never, in the history of ever, has there been a cat less frightening than “Boo” Rosenberg. This includes kittens, Taylor Ham, and stuffed animals. Yet our most comforting cat was one hundred percent Boo.

“Boo!” is an exclamation, an exultation, the realization that you are in the presence of a perfect creature who thinks the same of you. This never ceases to be surprising, so you shout, “Boo!”

Her full name was perfect.

We were regularly scolded for spelling it wrong. The word is b-u-b-a-l-a, perhaps b-u-b-b-a-l-a if you’re feeling bubbly. It is Yiddish for sweetheart, darling, friend. But it is definitely not B-o-o-b-a-l-a-h. Where did that come from? Nobody remembers, but everybody who knew Boobalah knew it was correct. There is no “Boo!” without “Boobalah.”

There is no “Boo!” in the Lobby today.

Cancer came without warning. Always the caretaker, Boobalah hid it as long as she could. Her belly swelled overnight, tight with fluid. There were masses in her liver. There was very little time.

There is no “perfect” passing, but Boobalah crossed from life to light. She gazed into faces she loved as her very own. She closed her eyes and woke to perfect Love.

Yet we are drowsy with grief. We are shivering, as though someone stole our sweaters. We are looking everywhere. Perhaps she is curled up so tightly with Bello, you can’t tell where the big tabby ends and the pixie-grandma begins. Perhaps she is spelunking in the stationery closet, where she regularly double-checked for doors to Narnia. Perhaps she is in someone’s arms. Surely, she is in someone’s arms.

Surely.

Across the expanse, Boobalah still cares for us. We will see those concerned green eyes when we skip lunch or scold ourselves for being human. Have you eaten? How are you really doing? Tell me everything. I am here for you. And somehow, she is.

Boobalah, beloved, we will miss you until we all get together around that big crowded table where nobody hungers and nobody dies.

We will glimpse you wobbling on the far side of the Lobby, classy and comical.

We will try to take care of each other as well as you took care of us.

We will tell everyone about our Boobalah, and how she was perfect.

Reflections from just a few of Boobalah (and Grecca)’s beloved friends:

“This week has been very hard. I thought a lot of my first days at Tabby’s Place, being graced with the kindness of Rose, Boobalah, and the boisterous greetings of Grecca when I first walked into the doors. I also think of Honey, who hopped onto my lap without hesitation during most of my interview. It feels so strange not having such bold personalities in our home anymore. Coming in for rounds Saturday morning, I was greeted by silence. It was deafening. I actually had to stop in my tracks, because my ‘Goodmorning Grecca’ was met with no answer. I’d like to think that Boobalah tried to fill in her shoes, because I swear when I went to check on her that morning, she got up and gave me the quietest meows. More like little squeaks. She tried her best. Our girls were the kindest little forces to reckon with. Just chock full of love to give, especially when there were snacks involved. I’ll always smile thinking on Grecca’s wildly loud meows, and her fighting Maurice through the glass windows … and of course, Boobalah’s little strut (especially right after she got her diaper put on), and the way she looked like she was the perfect little cat cutout whenever you got a good picture of her. Oh, and the day we all couldn’t find her because she wedged herself into the filing cabinet. We are so lucky to have loved such girls. They will forever be loved & missed.” – Tiana T.

“When I first started researching and interviewing at Tabby’s Place, one of the first faces I saw on the website was Boobalah, and I immediately fell in love. I even joked with my mom about adopting her to go with our former sweet elderly lady. Actually meeting her was a whole different story. She was like a celebrity to me, and I was delighted to see she was just as important to all the staff and volunteers. And for good reason!! Her name was incredibly fitting. The most gentle and affectionate kitty I’ve ever met. I remember sitting in one of those cozy lobby chairs next to her, and she did not hesitate to scoot into my lap, like she was welcoming me into the family. I was always worried about her health, especially her heart condition, since she was such a tiny girl. Sometimes, when holding or expressing her, I could feel her heart pounding. This may sound cheesy, but in the end, her heart never gave out, because it was always so full. She had so much love to give, but she was given just as much love in return from both humans and her kitty lobby-mates, and I think it kept her strong. She had a very peaceful passing, and I’m so thankful and honored to have shared some time and snuggles with such an absolute lovebug.” – Claudia M.

“One of my favorite memories of Boobalah happened during the terrible flooding brought by storm Ida in 2020. Jess and I were stuck at Tabby’s Place as Rt 202 was flooded both north and south of Tabby’s Place. We opened our doors to members of the public who became stranded on our stretch of highway. We had between 5 and 7 people take shelter with us in our Lobby and parking lot for the night. One of the visitors came in soaking wet, so we offered her a dry pair of scrubs to wear. She was one of a handful of guests that spent the full night in the Lobby. Boobalah thought this was wonderful and quickly picked out this woman as her newest and dearest friend. We learned in the morning that Boo had spent the night curled up in this woman’s lap, providing great comfort to her. She asked us about Boobalah in the morning, and when we learned that Boo had been in the woman’s lap all night, we mentioned that we hoped she hadn’t ‘leaked.’ Boo’s newest friend just smiled and laughed saying it wouldn’t have mattered at all if she did, she was wearing scrubs!” – Lisa L.

“Boobalah, dear one, DEAREST one. She was THE ONE, the one who loved everyone. Every single time Boobalah put her paw on my knee for me to lower the chair for her to jump on my lap was a special moment. Boobalah specialized in sharing such special moments with all of her friends. In crossing the rainbow bridge, Boobalah broke the Richter scale, shaking our foundations sorely. We may feel rattled and broken, but we need to keep spreading love far and wide – just like Boobalah did – for her…forever.” – Kitty LeFey

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