paws for this one

cats just scurry out of those big public trash disposals and scamper away and catch you by surprise for a second long fleeting moment, when you dont expect anything four legged, fuzzy or living to just pop out of those bins as you walk past them.  but theres tons of cats, no so much in Ramallah, but loads more in Nablus.  One of those Nablusi cats got pretty darn lucky, in fact luckier than most Palestinian human beings, as luck met chance and the kitty captivated an international's heart with something that the locals could not give a crap about: it's kitty cuteness.  

street kids in nablus beat cats and play with them and toy around with them or pelt stones at them to pass time, and entertain themselves.  now of course this sounds absolutely horrible to us, people not living under an occupation or in a developing country, where cats are creatures of companionship, endearment, and again cuteness. We like to hug them, and pet them and stroke them and make them a part of our family ( i don't, i can't stand cats).  We don't beat cats, we take them to animal doctors, give them medicine, buy nice food for them and heck even dress em up sometimes.  Come to think of it, cats and dogs in America are probably luckier than the majority of human beings around the world.  Anyways. That's beside the point.  The point is, in Nablus a cat's life is a life of struggle.  They live in a city where the people have lived through atrocious amounts of trauma, plagued by war for decades. 

This is actually my rommmate's story. When she was working in Nablus, she found a tiny kitty stuck in a hole in the wall, whimpering, scared out of its wits. Albeit not being a cat lover, M saved the cat.  And promptly handed the kitten over to the other internationals working at the school, and the kitty was adopted by a couple of american girls.  Peebs.  the cat even got a name, and for about a year lived inside the apartment with these americans in a little bubble of its own, saved from the dangers of the Nablusi streets and the children, reared with love and affection.  Then one day, it came time for the internationals to go back home, back to America.  What would happen to this cat? It would die if it was let loose in Nablus again, it has absolutely no survival skills to combat unloving, unaffectionate attention from the townspeople.

it was decided that the cat needed to go as well.  My roommate somehow became the one responsible to carry out this mission.  What exactly was the mission you may ask.  The Mission : To prove that this was an Israeli cat.  Not a palestinian one.  So that it could board a plane and go home..to California, USA.

Now what does this entail? here goes.  Maggie had to arrange for the cat to come to Ramallah from Nablus.  That was an amusing journey because no one had a cat carrier, but someone did have an old bird cage, so maggie put the cat in the bird cage and sneaked it through the checkpoint.  sneaked it again through the checkpoint to take it to Jerusalem.  we were kind of worried as to how the soldiers would react...to a Palestinian cat in a bird cage trying to pass a checkpoint.  Would they shoot it because it's palestinian? Would the cat not be allowed through because it's Palestinian? Would it be harassed? Held up? Detained? Arrested? Because all of those things happen to people.  But no, the soldier thought the cat was cute and let it pass without any qualms.  again, the luck of this cat surpasses the luck of the people.

Next : in Jerusalem Maggie had to prove that the cat was Israeli and that it needed a check up.  Her skillful fabrication skills linked with her incredibly friendly non threatening demeanor got the job done.  Then came another step.  Finding a cat carrier for the plane.  Maggie went to the store and I think struggled to find one, but ended up finding a bag, the only one left that was going to be Peebs'.  A camouflage bag.  

The trusted cab driver for the internationals in Nablus, along with all the locals that these internationals knew, were acquainted with and friends with, were partially amused and partially laced with outrage and jealousy.  This cat was going to America.  Most of them could not dream of that fate.  Heck, many of them can't even go to Jerusalem, a town that is 43 miles away from them. 

So the morning of Maggie's flight From Tel Aviv to the States came, and there went Peebs, peeking from a camouflage bag, hiding its true Palestinian identity to pass through Israeli security to start life anew, in America.  

 Meet Peebs: 

From Nablus: 

To Cali: