My life before Duncan was very different than the one I lead today. I was able to go out more, especially with friends after work. I could stay out later, too. The cats have always been fairly independent and seemed to relish the occasional time we granted them without adult supervision so they were never a worry. I did many more things than I do now, but since his arrival, Duncan has changed my life in countless ways, many of which I have recounted here repeatedly. And I find that for all those things I no longer get to do as freely or as spontaneously––the movies I no longer get to watch all the way through without pausing them to go downstairs for a bathroom break, the meals I no longer eat without a set of rich, brow eyes trained on my every movement, even the pillow I don't get to bask on without sharing––far more have been added that I may not have discovered without his presence at my side, such as our walks, my appreciation for the unfolding of the trees in the spring, the echo of a meadowlark song in the morning, the sense of discovery and adventure that seems to follow us every time we step outside.
Since he entered it, my life has become golden, and that is worth more than all the gold in the world.
I am rich in other ways.