China, 1996-2009

(Ling Ling and China, a peaceful moment between fights)

She never was really friendly, not really.

That was not to say that she couldn't have been if things had gone differently. I don't believe her personality was like Billy, who was really independent and not at all reliant on human company. China, I think, was simply a product of her early life.

We first ran across China on Sunday, July 28th, 1996, right after a trip to New Jersey to pay respects to Ting's father on the anniversary of his death. On the way back home from the cemetery, we stopped off in Chinatown to do some shopping. At the corner of East Broadway and Catherine Street, while buying some oranges, I saw a gray and white flash among the myriad legs of the shoppers and pedestrians, followed by a wail of terror.

As I watched, wondering what the hell had just gone by, I saw a kitten dash underneath a parked car. I immediately alerted Ting as to what I had seen and asked her to ask around in case anyone had just lost a kitten out of a car, or maybe a cage, but no one claimed her. I peered underneath the car and the little black shape was huddled directly underneath the center of that car - where no one could get at her. She was making that high-pitched mewing that kittens make. Her head darted around, and her too-large ears darted around, looking for a way out of this mess.

I tried to get her to come out from underneath the car, beckoning to her, but she wouldn't move. Eventually, I knew, the owners of the car would come by and try to drive off, so the clock was ticking and I wanted to get her out of there before that happened. Other people tried to help, but the kitten wouldn't budge.

At some point the owners came in and tried to enter the car, but we told them what was going on and the driver helped me shoo her out from under by coming at her from the front while I waited, arms open, at the back. This filthy, wriggling creature flew into my arms, mewling loudly in terror, and we got her into our car and drove home. As we went, we were trying to decide how to find her a home. Needless to say, that did not happen, because she was cute and affectionate - at least for that one first night, she was - and seemed to sense that her fortunes had changed, for better or worse.

There was one problem, however: fleas. Lots of them. And once they got into our place, they got onto Billy and Ling Ling, then into our furniture - you get the picture. The place became infested, forcing us to clean out the entire apartment and to take all three cats (for now there were three of them) to the vets for de-infestation. A week it took, before everything settled down, and by that time China was now a member of the family, albeit a terribly shy and skittish one. Ling Ling hated her on sight, but Billy was fascinated by her and the two of them became fast friends. Although she never opened up to us again, she was always well-behaved, with only the occasional hairball problem to clean up after.

Thirteen years go by before you know it. Ling Ling passed in 2004, and then Billy in 2006, and now China, who left today at between 1:45 and 2:o0 pm this afternoon. I am sad, as I have been after each of them, but I know that for whatever it is worth, that she was more comfortable here, at home, than whatever fate might have befallen her had we not been there to catch her that Sunday, and that provides a measure of comfort.

So does the fact that, at the very end, at last, she allowed me to wrap my arms around her and place my head again hers. She did not struggle this time. She let me do it. And I heard her purr, faintly, deep inside her, from whatever mechanism there is that makes cats purr. Knew that, at the end, she found comfort in my presence. And I leave her with that memory.

Goodnight, China. Sleep well. Play with Ling Ling and Billy, and may you always have enough to eat and have a warm cushion to sleep on. We love you....


('Night, China...)