It wasn’t that long ago that we were living in Kaaawa, and our answering machine message went something like this: “Hi. You’ve reached Ian, Meda, and nine cats in Kaaawa. Please leave a message for any one of us after the beep.”
We no longer live in Kaaawa. And now we live with just one cat.
This morning, around 9:20 a.m., we said goodbye to Duke, 18-1/2 years after he was born on a sofa bed in the office I had set up in a small studio apartment on the edge of Waikiki, and which we used on those nights when we didn’t want to drink and take the long drive all the way back to Kaaawa.
Ann Sakamoto, who has been our regular vet for many years, had examined him carefully while we waited in the parking lot due to Covid restrictions. Duke had lost another pound just in the last month, continuing a trend going back several months. Like before, there was no obvious cause. His blood test results last month were, as she put it, “remarkably good.” She could not feel any internal masses, although cancer could be hidden around his organs. We could, she said, do some imaging. I guess that means x-rays or ultrasounds. But would that lead to treatment options? Very unlikely, given his age and condition. At 18-1/2 years, he had lived a full life.
I thought of my dad’s death certificate which listed two causes of death–cardiac arrest, and “failure to thrive”. I’m not sure what the technicalities of that second one are, but I took it to mean something like “just very old and finally worn out.”
I think it was the same with Duke. He most likely inherited diabetes from his mother, but wasn’t diagnosed until somewhere around August 2010, when he started getting insulin shots twice daily. Later, he developed a chronic respiratory or sinus infection that resisted repeated attempts at treatment over the years. And then, a few years ago, he developed cataracts, which took most of his vision, and started showing signs of feline dementia.
In the end, like my dad, there was a simple failure to thrive.
So we said a teary goodby to Duke. We will celebrate him this evening. For now, we grieve.
I recall an evening, probably 20 years ago, when we were visiting William and Paula Merwin at their home in Haiku, Maui. It was after dinner, we were sitting around just talking. Meda and I were mourning the loss of one of our cats from an earlier generation. William, who was partial to his beautiful and very protective chow chows, listened to us, stood and walked to a nearby bookshelf, pulled down a volume, then sat back down and read us the first part of Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, Section 32.
I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d,
I stand and look at them long and long.They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
Then we sat in shared silence for a while. Embraced. And poured another glass of wine.
Here’s a short dance with Mr. Duke when he was a happy and healthy kitten. It’s nice to remember him like this.
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So sorry for your loss. Losing a beloved pet is as close to losing a child as it gets. May happy memories like Dancing with Mr. Duke bring smiles when you think about him. That’s the best way to remember them. The times they made you laugh.
Sad indeed. Even I?m crying.
?
So sorry!
I have been living through your ups and downs with Mr Duke for what seems a long time.
I will miss him
My sympathies, Ian and Meda. Ian, your blog post is a wonderful tribute to Duke and, for that matter, to yourselves.
Be well. tomorrow is another sunrise walk
Thank you for giving Duke a wonderful life. I’m sure he loved you too.
Sorry for your loss. We went through that just this past June (and with Dr. Sakamoto as well!) and understand the grief you are experiencing.
Oh, thank you so much for the video. I join you in your mourning.
And in the morning as heroic as any in the world, the sun also rises in life and in memory.
Aloha
My sympathies… enjoyed reading and seeing pics of Duke – He was blessed with your love for a full 18 plus years! PS: he looks like my iCloud kitty (similar coat).???love “the dance video”
Thanks for sharing this very personal loss. It prompts a vivid recollection of that very experience endured just two months ago with our UHM rescue kitty who proved to be the best pal one could hope for. Regrettably we only got to share that bond for eight years. I’m hardly surprised that Merwin knew how to honor your feelings in that moment. Fortunate are those attuned to a pet’s capacity to enrich and improve a human life. Sympathies, and mahalo for that smile inducing video.
So very sorry for your loss Ian and Meda. Duke has been a favorite of mine .. such a handsome guy. They are with us such a short time. Be at peace knowing that you gave Duke an incredible life. You were so fortunate to have each other.
Sorry for your loss. Aloha Duke
Sorry for your loss. Aloha Duke.
I fondly remember kitten Duke and momma Cybelle from so many years ago. He had a great and wondrous life. Fly high, good dude, and peace to his humans.
Feeling incredibly sad, but also thankful that kitty had a loving family to see him through tough times and give him unconditional love 24/7.
All the best from a fellow kitty daddy.