The Story of Daisy & Duke

 Last month, I decided it was finally time to get the kids into the vet. I loathe taking them to the vet because they are so stressed out by it which in turn makes me stressed out. It was, however, time to do so. I was also kinda curious about how they were doing since they are now considered "seniors" at 8, almost 9 years old. Well, the news for one was fine (Duke - he is the orange and white one). Daisy, on the other hand has some issues with her digestive tract. She has had two follow up visits now. Today was the second and the vet and I had a chat about her long-term prognosis. It appears that my baby girl, Daisy, may not be with me much longer. It's hard to say right now.

Daisy (born Girlfriend) and Duke (born Derreck) were born on June 17th, 2007. They came into my life at 12 weeks old when I lived in Minneapolis. I thought it might be fitting to tell you a bit about our lives together because they have a ton to do with my recovery.

I turned 30 years old on January 25th, 2007. I was a MESS. My life wasn't were I thought it was going to be. My drinking had escalated to new heights. Nursing was hard, my marriage was falling apart. In the beginning of February of that year, I asked my husband to move out and I was filing for divorce. I thought that he hated me and was going to celebrate this announcement. Instead he cried, and I wondered what the hell I was doing. We had two cats at that time. I pushed for him to move out, I didn't want to live together anymore. When he secured his new place, we talked about the property in the condo. I asked him to take all the furniture because it was old and I didn't like it. We talked about the cats and I suggested that he take them both because they were bonded and Panther was in LOVE with him. 

I left the condo on the day that he moved. I came home and almost everything was gone except for my  computer, a desk, a TV, a chest of drawers, a radio and my bed. The cats were still there. I got drunk, because that is what I did. He stopped over with the carrier, put the two in there and left immediately to his new home and his new life. I sat in in the middle of the living room where everything had been but was now gone. I wanted to be alone for so long and here it was and I was completely devastated. 

My aunt and uncle came in to help me renovate the condo so I would have a chance to sell it. They did such amazing work and the place was SO pretty. I put the condo on the market but the market was just not good. I was so scared to mess up anything that I lived basically in a corner of the bedroom. I wanted my place to be show ready at all time, just in case. I couldn't afford to do anything at that time, so many of nights, I just watched hours of TV, drinking a bottle of rum, cursing God for my misery. I was seeing a therapist at the time. I talked about how much those cats meant to me and how watching them go was more devastating that getting a divorce. She kept recommending that I think about getting cats again. I couldn't afford it and I was still hoping to sell the house. 

Well, the house didn't sell. I made a decision to "live in my place". My divorced was finalized in July 2007, just after our 3rd wedding anniversary and 9ish years together. I absolutely lost it. I thought I was going to be really excited about that day. I had thought about taking my life so many times before that day. My world was so dark, so sad, so lonely. I never had the guts to actually do something about it. Well, one night I did. I drank 1.25 liters of run and took handfuls of every prescription pill I could find in my house. I laid down on the floor of my second bedroom and tried to figure out what I wanted my last thoughts to be. I fell asleep. 

I woke up vomiting all over the place. I was so angry but completely terrified. I called a family friend who took me to the emergency room. I had caused a heart flutter with all the meds I took. I earned myself a room in the detox section. Several hours later, I was transferred to the crisis center. I convinced them to let me go home. Ultimately, I ended up being admitted for 10 days about a week or so later after the suicidal thoughts didn't stop. That is another blog about why our mental health system is broken. 

After I was released, I returned to therapy. After another month or so, my therapist finally said, "Holy cow, move into that place and get yourself some cats!" Well, I was paying her good money, so I thought I would take her advice. I started looking.

I got connected with a shelter in southern MN that was overwhelmed with kittens. I arranged to take these two and was so excited. The shelter rep emailed me two days before the drop off date and told me that Duke had a fungal infection -- they would understand if I didn't want them. What the hell? I am nurse, I can apply some ointment to cat? Give them to me!

I picked them up in Shakopee, MN at the McDonalds on 169. They screamed the entire way home. These kids are not much for the car. I got them to my condo and let them out of the carrier. Daisy proceeded to jump onto my new leather couch and pooped all over it. I am pretty sure I heard Duke laugh. Our adventure began. I looked over their paperwork and apparently someone wanted to name Girlfriend, Daisy. I liked Daisy better. I had a college relationship with a guy by the name of Derreck so that name was not sticking around. I think it was my uncle that suggested Duke. It stuck. People think I am a huge fan of the Dukes of Hazzard. Eh. Not so much, just think the names are cute together. 

I was drunk Mom for the first 3 years of their lives. Daisy is not much of a snuggler like Duke except for when I was really upset about something. She would come and just sit on my lap. For all these years, any time I have a cold or am not feeling very happy about something, she comes and sits on me. Duke, on the other hand, is my attention man-whore. If I am capable of petting at any given moment, that is what I should be doing. He sleeps by my head every night and Daisy sleeps at my feet. She bites my toes if I am encroaching on her space.

When I finally went to rehab for a month in 2010, my neighbors and Mom just jumped right in and took care of them for me. My Mom sent me this really cute card when I was there with a cat sitting on shredded paper "Hurry home, we are in pieces without you..." Gosh, I missed those little one. 

Over the years as I have attempted to date, I am very firm about my "must like cats" clause. I was in a long-term relationship and at one point, we had talked about moving in together. He was allergic and I put some feelers out about rehoming them.  Well, that person is no longer around and these two still are. Sorry future men of my life, these guys were here long before you and I made a lifetime commitment to them. There will not be any conversation about getting rid of them.

There is nothing like walking through the door everyday and being greeting my two cats. There tails are raised way in the air and they need immediate attention which I am always happy to give . I get snuggles for the rest of the evening and always have company no matter what I am doing. They do goofball things and make me laugh. I have a few hundred stories to share if you are willing to listen. 

Over the past 9 years we have spent together, these guys have seen me through all of it. We've done 3 moves, many, many jobs, a few relationships, the birth of my nephew and niece, active alcoholism to recovery. Every minute they have loved me the same. For that, I am truly grateful and always have my kittens on my gratitude list. Daisy and Duke became something to live for. The idea of me dying and them going to a shelter was unacceptable to me. The mere thought of them being confused about why I wasn't there was too much for me to take! I needed these guys. I needed to get out of my selfish, self-pity, loathing existence. I needed to get outside of myself. When these guys came into my life, that is what happened. Back in 2007, I did attend treatment for a very short period of time. I knew I was in trouble with my drinking. Even though it took a few more years to get there, these cats were a part of the reason I never attempted to take my life again.  They helped me see all the things outside of myself I needed to live for. Did you know that a cat can do that? 

Peace,
Julie