I wrote earlier that Beijing has no stray cats and dogs. For some time I didn’t see any animals at all. Now that I am out of the house a bit more, I have seen that there are, in fact, lots of animals in Beijing.

 

But I am still pleasantly surprised with the low wildlife quotient in my apartment. Before I arrived in Beijing I “managed my expectations”, as we say in business, convincing myself that I was going to be placed in the most squalid imaginable flea-trap of an apartment. I was sure that I would be kept awake at night my miscellaneous scurryings, and that roaches would dine on my earwax and nose hairs as I slept.

 

They may well do so, but I am not aware of it. And, really, that’s all I can ask.

 

Coming from Singapore, this is refreshing. My Singapore house is a zoo by comparison. Not counting actual pets, our menagerie includes swarms of mosquitoes, wolf spiders, turbo ants, garden lizards, tchee tchuks (small geckoes), and, of course, Southeast Asian Roaches.

 

Singapore roaches deserve special attention. In San Franciso roaches are small, fleet, and vanish quickly when you turn on a light. In Singapore has the Flintstones roachasaurus. It looks like a brown, scurrying running shoe and is large enough that you can hear it moving. It stands its ground when you turn on the light. When it does run, it moves so fast that it makes a tiny sonic boom, and when it is particularly alarmed it flies, usually straight for your face.

 

So coming to Beijing, I was prepared for the worst. But, I am almost disappointed to report, nada. My building is relatively new, however, so, perhaps another five years will change things. The few Beijing roaches I have seen, down at the Worldlink office, are miniscule and inoffensive.

 

There are still almost no feral animals to be seen in Beijing. However I have begun to see pet cats and dogs. In our courtyard two days ago a man was giving away a litter of kittens (no, Olivia). I have seen one or two cats elsewhere as well. But what Beijing residents really seem to like are their dogs.

 

And they like them small. Beijing is the yappy dog capital of the world. This is in stark contrast to Singapore, where the national sport is cramming an unreasonably large dog into your microscopic apartment. “Hi, I’m Lyle. This is my 600 square foot apartment, and this is my Great Dane, Conrad.” In bounds a dog the size of a small horse that shows its affection by taking your entire head into its mouth.

 

In my Singapore neighborhood of micro houses with closet-sized back yards, people are infatuated with their large dogs. There are two Huskies, a Rottweiler, a Weimariner, miscellaneous hounds and shepherds, and thirty seven Golden Retrievers, including our neighbor’s dog, Leo, who has the distinction of having broken my wife’s toe in a moment of good-natured enthusiasm. There was however, until recently, Poochy, a Chihuahua, who did tip the average down some. Poochy mysteriously vanished recently. Shame.

 

I am not generally a fan of small dogs. I find them obnoxious, noisy, hyperactive and pointless. What good is a dog that can’t help you move livestock or drag your car to safety in a snowstorm? But, then, I am a cat person. Extensive and well documented research by the Rand Corporation has shown that you can be a cat person and like large dogs, but seldom will a cat person also like small dogs. They are mutually exclusive, like politics and honesty.

 

But I do applaud Beijing residents for appreciating the value of small dogs in a crowded, urban environment. The courtyard would be less pleasant if Conrad the Great Dane was tearing around ferociously and carrying off small children like the Jabberwocky. The cloud of pugs, poodles, and wiener dogs is relatively pleasant and innocuous, and people seem to be good about dealing with the dog droppings, perhaps because we have a security staff of approximately 500 people.

 

And I must confess to a moment of warm satisfaction and a sense that all was right in the world the first time I saw someone walking their Pekingese down the street.