This is Mekong.

Mekong hasn't been in this world for a while, but he was one of the sweetest, most wonderful cats you could ever meet.

In the winter of 1994, during a particularly bad rainstorm, my Dad went out to check out a litter of cats that had been born to one of the neighborhood strays. He came back in and asked my Mom "have you ever seen an orange cat before?" She said "no" so he said "here" and handed this little orange kitten over to her.

We were all so overjoyed with this little orange ball of energy in our lives. Our single cat, Mooch (more on her another day), was at first a little jealous, but soon came to like Mekong and take him under her wing.

He was a very high energy cat. He would zoom around the house, carrying out guerrilla attacks on couches, legs, and just about anything that let its guard down. He would wander out into the world across the fields behind our house, and when you turned on the can opener he would come running from far far away.

His energy was definitely a liability though. One day, Mekong disappeared and we didn't see him for days. My Mom was very worried, and so we all took a trip down to the local pound where we found him with a deep scar on his nose ridge, and learned he'd been caught in an animal trap (about a mile away from our house).

When he heard us enter the pound, he started meowing louder than all the others ones there, begging for us to save him. We brought him home and he was so happy to be back. A few days later he disappeared again.

He ended up in the same trap. It's important to note that in California at the time it was illegal to put food in animal traps, and my Dad gave the guy who was doing it a good shouting. But ultimately my incredibly irresponsible parents decided that neutering him was for the best.

He lost a lot of energy after that, no longer rushing around the house destroying everything in sight. He didn't go too far after that, always staying on our block, taking care of the neighborhood kittens that I suppose he was probably related to.

One day, a particularly mean neighborhood cat wandered into the yard and approached my Mom. Mekong attempted to chase him off, and my Mom tried to grab him to bring him inside. When he was touched, Mekong flinched and bit my Mom's hand deeply, making her bleed a lot. She screamed and cried and Mekong ran away.

My Mom was ultimately okay. My Dad bandaged up her hand, but Mekong didn't come home. Over the next few days, we'd see Mekong sometimes looking at the house from a faraway bush, but he would run away when he noticed we saw him.

One day my Mom saw him, and called him over. "Mekong, it's okay, come here" she said and he slowly made his way toward her, and hopped into her arms when she pet him. He came back to the house.

We got more cats, here and there. And Mekong would always always watch over them, grooming them and keeping them safe. And he'd always groom me, as well, always licking my arm whenever he was even a little bit comfortable.

He would make these meows when he wanted something, whether it was a food and water refill, or to be let outside, or anything else he could want. But most of the time he just wanted attention, to sit in my lap and lick my arms. My Dad always used to say "he's checking how you taste."

Sometimes when walking around my neighborhood in high school, I would encounter Mekong on the sidewalk, heading off to whatever he had on his docket. Sometimes he would take a moment to let me pet him, but other times he wouldn't even acknowledge me at all, being much too important to be seen in public with me.

He was very perturbed when I brought a stray dog (Toby, more on him another day too) home to live with us. He wouldn't even talk to me or respond to me at all, not even for pets. After a few days, he warmed up to the dog and forgave me, once he learned that the dog wasn't a threat.

He'd sit often at the head of my ez-chair while I played on my computer, sometimes grooming my hair. When he wanted attention he'd slink down to my lap and stay there for a while. His favorite scratch spot was on his back right before his tail. He would purr loudly and smile.

Mekong stayed with us across many moves, even into Arizona where he lived the last of his days. He never changed much, and would always spend his time around us.

One day, he became very sick and stopped eating. There was nothing we could do for him. He spent those last nights curled up in bed with me. On his last night, he called everyone over to him, and we took turns holding him and telling him how much we loved him and always would.

Years later, I heard the stereotype of how dumb orange cats were. But I had never seen anything like that from Mekong, who was always a thoughtful, compassionate creature, who loved his family as much as we loved him. And every time I see an orange cat, I always think of him.

I dream of him often. I like to think he comes to visit me now and again to make sure I'm not getting too roughed up. I like to think he'd like Snyper now, and would take care of her the way he took care of the others.