06/13/2026
We are absolutely heartbroken today.
Earlier today, we got the news that one of the best people we have ever had the privilege of knowing has passed away. I almost said he left this world, but that does not feel right, because James Morier was too big of a personality, too bright of a light, and too good of a soul to ever truly leave this world. His spirit is still here. It is in every person he fed, every laugh he gave, every dream he chased, every life he touched, and every bit of kindness he put back into a world that was not always kind to him.
We may have only known James for a few years, but somehow it feels like we knew him for a lifetime.
When James first announced that he was bringing his vegan fauxltry business, Cosmic Bird, from California to Louisville, it immediately caught our attention. We were there for his very first pop-up. And yes, the food was absolutely “out of this world,” just like he loved to say. It was, without question, some of the best food we have ever eaten. He used to laugh about all the foods he got me to try that I never would have touched otherwise.
But when Cosmic Bird came to Louisville, we got so much more than amazing food.
We met James.
We met one of the kindest, most wonderful, most beautifully one-of-a-kind souls we have ever known. James was larger than life. He was funny, passionate, emotional, stubborn, generous, creative, and completely unforgettable. He had his struggles, but he lived. He loved. He gave. He cared deeply, sometimes so deeply you could feel it just standing near him.
James loved what we did at Butterfly Valley, and we loved what he did with Cosmic Bird.
Early on, back when he was still doing pop-ups and working so hard just to keep everything moving, he decided he wanted to do a fundraiser for us. He created a mind-blowing sandwich called The G.O.A.T. and planned to donate a small portion of each sale to the sanctuary. Then the day came, and James being James, he decided that was not enough. He donated all of his tips too, because he wanted to make a bigger difference.
That was James.
This was during a time when every pop-up mattered. Every dollar mattered. Every long day mattered. And still, he wanted to help us. He wanted to help the animals. He wanted to use what he had, even when he did not have much extra to give.
When Cosmic Bird finally opened its brick-and-mortar location, he welcomed us and our residents every chance he could. We had welcome parties, baby showers, fundraisers, visits, and so many moments inside those walls that we will never forget. He did not just give us space. He gave us belonging. He gave our animals a place to be seen. He shared our story with people at The Bird as much as he shared his own.
And that is what made him so special.
James did not just build a restaurant. He built a community. A weird, wonderful, compassionate, hilarious, heart-on-your-sleeve kind of community. A place where food was love, where animals mattered, where people could show up as they were, and where a guy chasing a dream somehow made everyone around him feel like they were part of it.
We spent countless days there. Eating. Laughing. Hanging out. Helping however we could. James would laugh at the two of us constantly and the way we were. He was around for some of our hardest personal days. We spent Thanksgiving there. We watched his dream come to life, and we also watched how heavy that dream became.
When he told us about his health concerns and later announced the closure of Cosmic Bird, it was devastating. Not because it was just a restaurant closing, but because we had seen firsthand how much of James was in that place. His heart was in the food. His soul was in the walls. His hope was in every person who walked through that door.
And even as he was closing. Even as he was struggling. Even as he was trying to figure out how to take care of himself and pay bills and survive everything life had thrown at him, he was still trying to find ways to help us.
That is the part that breaks us.
Because James was not kind when it was convenient. He was kind when he was tired. He was kind when he was hurting. He was kind when he had every reason to focus only on himself. He kept giving pieces of his heart away, and somehow his heart still seemed bigger every time we saw him.
We truly do not know how to put this loss into words.
Today, the tears keep coming and the memories keep rushing back. The pop-ups. The sandwiches. The laughs. The animals inside Cosmic Bird. The way he smiled when he talked about food. The way he made people feel welcome. The way he believed in what we were doing. The way he made us feel like Butterfly Valley mattered.
We had been following along with his recent cross-country trip, waiting for the moment he made it back through Louisville so we could see him again. That moment will not come now, and that hurts more than we can explain. But seeing him share those views, those places, that big smile, and that sense of peace over these last few weeks is something we will hold onto forever.
James, thank you for feeding us. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for loving our animals. Thank you for believing in Butterfly Valley. Thank you for giving us a place at The Bird. Thank you for every laugh, every story, every hug, every “out of this world” meal, and every moment of your beautiful, chaotic, generous, unforgettable life.
We are better people because we knew you.
Butterfly Valley is better because you loved it.
Louisville is better because you were here.
And this world, even with you no longer physically in it, will forever carry pieces of you.
Rest easy, James.
We love you.
We will miss you forever.
And your spirit will absolutely live on.
