Monday, December 3, 2018

My Cat Duncan

A forewarning for my readers today: this is a sad post upcoming.  If you're not in the mood to read about tragedy, then I ask that you come back another time, or later when I'm back to posting about positive content. 

Growing up as a child, my parents had never let me own any pets.  I guess they were too afraid of dealing with the poop, dirt in the house, or scratching of the furniture.  There was a time in college when I wanted to get a pet, but one of my roommates didn't want to deal with a pet in the apartment, worrying about the destruction of his personal belongings.  Then came graduation from college, where I found myself a job at IBM in Tucson and went off to live on my own.  I found a small apartment in a complex called Los Altos Village while I looked to buy eventually buy a house.  But the first thing I did when I was finally off on my own for good: I got myself a pet.

I love both cats and dogs and had always wanted to own both.  However, I figured I'd start out with a cat, because I had an outgoing lifestyle at the time and was afraid I couldn't commit the time that a puppy would need for me to raise them.  In June of 2005, I decided to adopt a cat and started by going to the Humane Society.  I looked at pets and fell in love with an 8-week-old kitten named Max.  I can still remember those beady little eyes when he looked at me while I was playing with him.  I decided right away that I wanted to adopt the kitty, so the Humane Society had him neutered and ready for me to pick up within the next couple days.
When I picked him up, I immediately changed his name to Duncan.  Don't really know why, I just figured that would be a good name for a cat.  Max Duncan Lin as I like to have known him as.  I wasn't really sure when Duncan's birthdate was exactly, but since they told me he was 8 weeks old, I established his birthdate as April 9, 2005, which would have been 8 weeks before the day I adopted him.

I still remember so clearly that first day I brought him home.  I kept him in the adoption box in the car ride home and he was constantly meowing the whole way home, eager to know what the hell was going on.  I started by keeping him in the bathroom, letting him get familiar with a small place before introducing him to the rest of the apartment.  Oh, we would have so much training to do in the first week.  I can still remember scrambling back and forth from the pet store that day, thinking of things to get him and things I forgot to get him.  He was easy to raise and teach though, and I loved him from Day 1.
Kittens are soooo playful, it's soooo cute.  One of the best stages of a cat's life.  The transition to the rest of the apartment went well.  I think for the most part the only destruction was when he chewed the cord of one of my computer speakers.  There was also a funny little story at that apartment.  I never told them I had a pet so that I could avoid the pet deposit fee.  Duncan was never allowed to go into the bedroom when I wasn't there, but one day when I got home from work, I saw him in the window sill, completely exposing himself to the entire apartment complex, LOL.  I ran inside and realized he had learned how to get into the bedroom, by simply jumping over the large TV box I had used to block off the way to that room.  Nothing was destroyed in the bedroom so that was the day I knew I could trust him to have full access to the apartment without having to worry about anything.

In October of 2005, I bought myself a house in Tucson.  Fortunately, I didn't have a ton of stuff to move from a small apartment to a large 3-bedroom house and got all the moving done in half a day.  Thanks Ime for helping me move!  Once everything was finally moved over to the house, the last thing to move was Duncan.  I remember the first time he walked into my house.  A slow, careful pace around the living room, sniffing everything in sight.  "This is familar.  Wait, what's this?  Wow, so much space!  At least my owner Andy is here. (*purr* *rub rub*)".
And so began the rest of our life together.  Or so I could only hope.  Realistically, I knew the day would come where Duncan would not be around anymore.  It was just a matter of time.  I just didn't know how much time.  I hear the average cat lives to be 12-15 years old.  However, I've heard wonderful stories of people telling me their cat lived to be 18, even 20 years old!!!
In August of 2018, just a couple days before my birthday, Duncan refused to eat any of his normal meals.  I started to freak out and quickly called my friend who is a veterinarian technician at Southern Arizona Veterinary Specialty hospital here in Tucson.  She gave me some tips on how to get him to eat and finally he put down some rotisserie chicken from Albertson's that he so much loves.  I then took him in the next day to get him checked out and learned that he had developed bladder stones.  I could see all the tiny little stones from the x-ray, so they gave me some c/d urinary prescription diet for him to transition to for the rest of his life.
Then came a couple days before Thanksgiving.  I had just gotten back from a trip to New York and Duncan was not eating when I got back.  I was quickly very scared for his life once again.  I knew he was in a great pain.  Did me leaving for a weekend cause him that much stress?  I had been able to travel without him for years without worry, but this time was different.  I took him to the hospital the next day and they discovered that a bladder stone had passed through his uretha, making him unable to urinate.  We quickly had it removed, but because of the issue, his kidneys had started to produce fluids that were unhealthy to Duncan.  As a result, I kept him overnight in the hospital to get him on IV fluids and under hospital monitoring.
It was a really sad Thanksgiving for me.  Every Thanksgiving for the past 13 years, I had brought Duncan with me to my parents' house in Scottsdale, who were now okay with letting my cat stay with me for the short weekends I would be up there.  This year was the first time Duncan wasn't with me up there.  He'd always love getting handed turkey from our Thanksgiving lunch, and then laying in the sunlight as his belly was full from turkey.  That holiday, I would receive worrisome updates about my cat who was staying overnight at the hospital.  The goal was to get his kidney levels up to a healthy point where he could be ready for surgery to remove the rest of the bladder stones.  At first it was going to happen the Friday after Thanksgiving, but then I got another call that his kidney levels still hadn't improved over two days.

I drove back up to Tucson on Friday, constantly worrying about when my cat would be able to go into surgery.  Then came the worst call I ever wanted to hear, just around midnight of Black Friday.  The doctor explained to me that Duncan's situation had worsened.  His kidneys continued to show no signs of improvement and now he started to have trouble breathing.  His lungs were getting filled with the fluids that were keeping him alive because he was unable to eat anything.  They could reduce the fluids, but then his kidneys would ultimately fail because he still couldn't eat.  It was a catch-22, a lose-lose situation where both organs could not be saved.  They had me come in and see him, where we would also discuss my options.

On November 24th at 2:30am in the morning, Duncan was put to sleep.  I spent over an hour sobbing while I held and pet Duncan, I cried so hard.  The paper to sign for euthanasia was on the side.  I struggled so hard to sign it, not wanting to let go.  But ultimately I knew it was the right decision for my cat, who was in so much pain.  I loved Duncan so much, probably more than anyone I've ever known.  Everyday of my life for the past 13.5 years he was always by my side, in my lap, we loved each other so much.  It was the hardest decision of my life that I had to make.
Over a week has past and Duncan is not around.  I walk around the house and every little corner reminds me of something about him.  There had never been a day in that house where Duncan wasn't there.  Even though I lived by myself, I never actually felt alone because he was there to keep me company.  I just miss Duncan so much.

These days I feel really lonely.  Keeping busy helps me keep my mind off Duncan, but I have trouble sleeping when I expect him to be there at my side when I wake up.  People have asked me if I plan on getting another pet, and I do.  Eventually I think in 2019 I will get both a kitten and puppy and raise them up together.  I don't know when it will happen, but Duncan will not be the last pet I'll have owned.  He will however be the most memorable to me forever.  Rest in peace Duncan.  I will always love you.