Sydney came into our lives shortly after we adopted Maggie. One day, when Dad was at work at a job site, he heard a plaintive mewing coming from the backyard. He went outside to check, and found a tiny kitten, at most three or four weeks old, in the shadow of a large dog. He chased the dog away and rescued the kitten from the cold and damp. There was no sign of the kitten's mother or the rest of the litter, and asking the owners of the house and the neighbors turned up nothing. He brought her home with the intention of taking her to the SPCA, but we fell in love with the adorable Siamese and decided to keep her. The first night we put her in the bathtub with a plate of food, and when we checked on her in the morning, she hadn't eaten any of it. We had to put food in her mouth and teach her how to eat.
From the beginning, Sydney was a bold cat with boundless energy, and we took to calling her the Queen of the House. Unlike Maggie, she was nearly fearless, and didn't take any guff from either Bear or Penny. She would sometimes retreat to high ground, then wait for the dogs to walk by and bat at their tails. She liked to relax on the arm of the couch, sitting like a Sphinx with her paws draped daintily over the arm. She also enjoyed hiding in the thick foliage of Mom's garden, which earned her the affectionate epithet of Jungle Kitty.
Sydney was always a real fighter. She loved to play with tissue paper and ribbons, so Christmas was her favorite time of year. If we put a hand under a thick towel (for our protection,) she would attack viciously with teeth and claws while purring loudly. She was a hunter as well, occasionally bringing mice and lizards into the house to eat or play with. She could amuse herself for hours by cornering some poor critter behind a toilet, purring happily all the while. She had a purr so loud we could hear her across the room, and she was very talkative. She would meow at us to get attention and pets, seemingly in different voices depending on what she wanted.
Of course, all pets have their faults; fortunately, Sydney's were relatively mild. She loved to eat and quickly turned into a rather plump feline, though not to the point that we felt she was fat. She was terribly bossy, and regularly took advantage of Maggie's timid nature. When she wanted to eat, it was her turn at the food dish, regardless of whether or not Maggie was currently eating. The two sometimes fought, although never excessively, and on rare occasions we even found them sleeping wrapped up together. She could be maddeningly insistent at times, but she had a beautiful voice, so she always sounded wonderfully cute. Sometimes she would demand that we open the back door for her in the worst weather, only to race back inside moments later.
Even as she aged, Sydney never lost any of her seemingly endless vitality. She continued to dash around the house and leap from the floor to the windowsill in a single bound. She seemed so healthy and vigorous that I was sure she would be there waiting for me the next time I came home. Unfortunately, about a month after I left for Japan she suddenly stopped eating. My mom and sister started to feed her by squirting liquid food down her throat with a syringe, which Sydney didn't fight but clearly didn't enjoy. She lost weight rapidly, soon becoming as thin as Maggie was, and eventually even her limitless energy was exhausted.
My family wrestled with the decision of when to say goodbye to Sydney while I worried from afar. The final straw came earlier this week when Mom left the deck door open, only to discover later that Sydney had gone missing. They searched frantically and only found her with the help of Penny, who located the long-suffering cat hiding under the deck. Finally acknowledging that her enjoyment of life was over, they took her to the vet and let her go to sleep. I wish I could have been there to say goodbye, but that wasn't possible. Instead, this lengthy epitaph is my way of saying farewell to my treasured companion. I find it interesting that we took in Maggie and Sydney a short time apart, and lost them both in a similarly short time. Life is full of such strange coincidences.
Some things about Sydney I will always remember. I'll never forget the day she jumped on top of the toilet to find out what was up there, only to fall into the open toilet bowl. She loved tuna juice, and would run into the kitchen any time she heard someone get out the can opener, even when we weren't opening a tuna can. She would occasionally burrow under the newspaper while I was reading it to get my attention, then stare at me with her tail swishing as if to say "What?"
Sydney wasn't the perfect pet, but she was a joy to have in our home. I sometimes wished that my next cat could be just like her, though I know that every pet is unique and special in its own way. My family and I will always cherish the time we spent with her and the memories we made together. Rest in peace, Sydney – you were a beautiful, ferocious lover of life, and we loved you for it.
