Love brought the 12 of us together, and love saw us through when nothing else could.

We were a random bunch, joined together by social media and the chance discovery of a terribly emaciated stray cat.

My friend Shuran had posted news of the discovery on her WeChat Moments, along with photos of the cat being cared for at a pet hospital near her home on the eastern outskirts of Beijing.

Once before, also in Beijing, I was part of a group that rallied for a cat that surely had no chance of recovery.

In the earlier instance, I discovered the orange cat on a miserably hot and humid July evening, lying in the rain, caked in mud and pleading for help.

My colleagues Murray and Annie and friend Shen Ye knew we needed to act rapidly that summer of 2018. Infection was raging in two-thirds of the cat's body, which did not bode well. The doctor told us the cat's chances for survival were very slim, but we gave it our best.

The cat, which Shen later named Lucky, weathered the storm, though losing all her teeth to infection. The printout of the veterinarian's final bill was no less than 2 meters long. Lucky was quickly adopted by a loving and doting family.

And so when, over the recent holiday, my friend Shuran told me the woeful details regarding the newly found (also orange) cat, I shuddered. However, since she had placed the cat in professional hands, I trusted that the doctor knew best, and I told Shuran the story of Lucky and urged her to hold on to hope.

That's when she posted about going to the market to get a fish, whose skin would be placed for protection over the large area on the cat's haunches where its own skin was gone and the bones exposed. Now I feared the worst.

Meanwhile, Shuran sent me an invitation to a chat group, in which I joined the others rallying for the cause. We now totaled 11 — all of us brought together by Love, the name that Shuran gave the cat.

In a sudden flurry of messages, we were informed that Love's condition had deteriorated. Shuran asked everyone to vote: Do we continue the treatment or do we euthanize Love, who was clearly suffering?

A deadline was set for 2 pm the next day, but we were informed shortly afterward that the cat's breathing had grown very rapid, and so the circle of new friends huddled again and decided the time was right for a merciful end.

Since the hospital where Love was being treated did not perform euthanasia, Shuran put her in a box and rushed her to another hospital where, I am sad to say, she passed away upon arrival.

"Were you at Love's side at the final moment?" I asked my friend. "Yes."

"Were you comforting her?" I queried, knowing full well that she had been, as she had done for days. But I wanted her to realize that she had given Love the best possible gift, as it is beyond our scope to give life itself.

And so Love became an angel, attended to by a random circle of caring people drawn together by empathy for a stray animal struggling to live on the harsh streets. Love did not die alone on those streets, but spent her final days visited by people who opened their hearts, and she was comforted in the end by the sweet voice of her own guardian angel, my friend Shuran.

The emotional pain we all felt was tremendous, the sense of helplessness immense.

Many years ago, my younger brother Joe expressed similar painful dismay about feeling helpless.

We were strolling through a park in our hometown, shortly after a family member had passed away in an intensive care unit. Suddenly, right at his feet, a dove fell dead from the sky.

Joe knelt down to see if he could do anything, but it was too late. Through tears, he confessed that this incident reminded him of his great regret that he had not spent more time visiting the now gone family member, explaining that hospitals made him feel overwhelmingly helpless.

In fact, Joe overcame his vulnerability and became a paramedic, helping countless others. He was present when each of my parents died and, in his capacity as a paramedic, officially pronounced the time of death. He also was a Humane Society officer who oversaw the welfare of animals.

I know my friend Shuran to be likewise sensitive and, in some ways, fragile. It might have been easier for her to turn her head and not get involved.

But she rose to the occasion to help the aptly named Love, and in doing so demonstrated, through deep concern for a fellow being, what a unifying force love can be.