Sybil

 

When Sybil came to us at Kitty City, her long hair did little to conceal the bony skeleton she had become. Sybil was as close to starvation as you can imagine.

A veterinarian clinic in another county had taken her in as a stray and took pity on her. Cats in her condition were usually just put down. She wasn’t exactly beautiful, although she had great potential and had at one time been very pretty. Her white coat was dull and yellowed and shed out in big hunks. Her face was naturally slim and chiseled, like a Siamese, but now it looked downright pointed like a witch’s chin.

And to make it worse, the vet intern who saved her life had shaved her belly, nearly the whole length of it, to spay her – and found that she had already been spayed. The haircut just accented her skinny torso.

But despite being almost starved to death, Sybil just wouldn’t eat. Sometimes animals in her circumstances have a shrunken esophagus, we’re told, and swallowing is difficult. Maybe she was just depressed. Maybe she had given up on humans being kind to her.

Volunteers spent lots of time holding her on laps and hand-feeding gobs of soft food. Anything that she ate was a gift to us. Folks brought her special foods, gourmet foods, tasty tidbits. We tried formulas and gravies. Finally she began to cooperate with us.

As she grew healthier and her coat grew more lustrous, her attitude toward people became more indifferent. She wasn’t afraid of us, she just didn’t want to be bothered. As one volunteer described her, Sybil was “like an aging movie star who really believes we exist to serve her.” We called her our diva, our princess, who permitted some folks to speak with her but only as her servants.

If Sybil didn’t like you, she could leap great distances from her house to the countertops or to any tiny surface that would receive her and simply turn her back to groom herself. If she did like you, she might head-butt and rub against your hands. But those given the honor of serving her were a small crew. Most visitors to Kitty City were shunned or ignored.

And very often, when folks considered her for adoption, she leaped from her house to the countertop, ducked beneath it and hid from them. She was a hard cat to place, that’s for sure.

We often laughed as we caught her tilting her small face to the side and studying people to see if we were worthy. Sybil had personality, that’s for sure.

Then one day the perfect family for her came in to see what Kitty City is all about. Sybil, who had her own special bed that she defended furiously from other cats, rose from her leisure and stretched, tilted her head to one side – and greeted the gentleman at her door like an old friend.

The peculiar thing was, this couple had recently lost a beloved pet to old age and disease who had the same personality quirks. They were delighted with the same attitudes that often turned away adoptive families. They hadn’t been ready to add another cat, but she caught their eyes.

When they went away to think it over, Sybil cocked her head and watched them go. But she was almost smirking, as though saying, “I know you’ll be back. Just wait!”

The next day the gentleman did come back and bundled up Sybil and her special bed and toys and all her treasures, which were not many or nearly enough for her elegance and style. Sybil is one of our happily-ever-after stories.

The first picture they gave us of Sybil in her new life is so appropriate. She sits on a chair covered with a Walt Disney beach towel with the word “Princess” stretched across the width of the back. Her head is cocked, as though she’s saying, “You see?”

And the next one, a few months later, is Sybil surrounded by cat toys, play gyms, her special hammock bed, and all the trappings of a cat who lives in luxury. She even has a small paunchy tummy, testament that Sybil will never be hungry again.