How Everkind Began
A true story of survival, heartbreak, and hope. It began with two cats. On a freezing January day in 2025, while visiting another nonprofit, I noticed two thin, shivering cats searching the sidewalk for scraps. I had nothing to give them in that moment, but their eyes stayed with me. That night, I returned with food.
When I went back again, more cats appeared. And the next day, even more. What began with two had quietly grown into a hidden colony—a community of animals no one saw, fighting just to stay alive. Then the temperatures dropped below zero. I remember three cats curled together so tightly it looked like they were holding onto each other for survival. That moment broke something open in me. These animals had no protection, no food source, and no one consistently caring for them.
At first, I had very little—just cardboard, straw, and anything that could help block the winter wind. After reaching out to local rescues and community groups for guidance, I learned that many of the cats had previously been TNRd by established organizations. Their work helped stabilize the population, but the site did not have anyone providing consistent follow-up care, such as regular feeding or weather-protected shelters. As conditions worsened, several kind individuals stepped forward with materials and insulated shelters, helping replace the early makeshift boxes with sturdier protection from the snow and elements.
As winter crept in, the routine never stopped. Feeding never stopped. Cleaning never stopped. Even in the cold, even through storms, none of it stopped. I learned that compassion does not take breaks. Snowstorm or bitter sunshine, whether the roads were open or buried, I showed up with supplies. On days I could not drive through, I walked part of the way, carrying food and water through the snow. After each storm, I rebuilt what was lost. And every day, the cats waited.
As the winter deepened, the temperatures dropped even further. Some days the cold was so sharp it felt like the air itself could break. Water froze within minutes, shelters iced over, and every meal became a race against the weather. Still, I made my rounds—clearing snow, breaking ice, bringing food, and checking every shelter to make sure no one was left struggling alone.
As the worst of winter finally softened, spring brought small moments of relief. The snow melted, the shelters dried, and the world around the colony began to breathe again. But the work never slowed. With the warmer weather came new challenges…
By June, I realized this was bigger than one colony… Everkind was born.
Months later, I am still there—feeding, rebuilding, protecting…
This is only the beginning…