Sunday October 22nd, 2006
INAUGURAL DIRECTORATES
Let’s get this out of the way first…. My new cats name is “VLADIMIR JACK BAUER”. We basically just call him “V” and that’s our preference here. I picked “VLADIMIR” because of a line of dialogue from the 1981 movie ARTHUR starring Dudley Moore when he says, “Can we name our first child ‘Vladimir’? Boy or a girl?” I didn’t think anyone would get that in a million years and no one did… thankfully, these books cost me money.
I love the little guy. He’s a handful. V is sleeping on my shoulder as I type this, purring like a little motor boat. V has been a ray of special sunshine in our world here in Rossdonia. Brandy smiles more and loves him too. So far, the only non-fan is Cousette who seems more annoyed than anything. She’s the senior cat in the house and at 10 years old, doesn’t take to his aerial attacks with any form of glee. Cousette misses her brother Spaz, as do we all, but she’s not as sad as she was. We managed to replace sorrow with annoyance and curiosity. The house is less empty, but the energy feels different. I find a great deal of solace in being with V and Cousette now. I appreciate my life a little more.
I’ve started several new trends. I’m working out a bit. So far, I’m getting push ups and sit ups done everyday and I expect to see results sometime in 2007. I’ve become a fat bastard, but that will change. My work ethic has changed. I’ve shed some dead weight in a metaphorical sense and mystically several things in my world cleared up.
The writer’s block dissipated. George Caleodis came in from California and worked with me for one whole day & everything that was wrong seemed righted in a few short hours. We ate lunch at the Lucky House, my favorite Chinese food place, and worked right on through it. Ideas flowed better. George gets it. He’s experienced enough with group working and “gun for hire” jobs to understand that I will shoot down 99 out of a 100 ideas because they don’t “fit”, but when you hit the ones that do, you just know it. There it is. Collaborating doesn’t come easy, but it’s great when it does. George’s comprehension of pop culture and styles of humor make it easy for me to relay what I mean.
I also confirmed that my production plans being pushed to the spring of 2007 are okay. Having seen some examples of late, I’m convinced HD is the way to go for this project. A lot can be done with this medium and celluloid won’t be the only option from here on out. High Definition when used right looks fantastic. I look forward to the challenge.
I’m thinking through the work flow for an HD post production pipeline. I think getting the HD tapes copied to DV with matching time code to do an “offline” edit will be great. It saves on hard drive space and also makes it easier to bounce between editing systems.
In the meantime, I want to test this workflow out by doing another short film, only this time on HD this winter. I won’t direct, but I will write & produce a 2 minute short film for my longtime collaborator John Fromes, who’s been with me since 2001. Not the friendliest guy, but loyal and that means something. It’s time he had his shot as a director and there is one short film I still had on my slate of films I wanted to do before I ‘retired’ from making shorts. This is a short called SNOW MAN that I wanted to do and never got around to it 2 years ago so maybe this year I can make it happen. My ulterior motive is to test all the technicals for post production on the feature later in 2007, but I also have many outlets still for short films I have not used yet. There are plenty of offers for paid shorts only I don’t make those anymore, so this is not a bad thing to produce.
I’m also looking into doing some other mini-projects with varying goals. Much like the indie film tech tips I made for Horrors of War, I’m considering making several more like those, only not related to the film. I have different outlets I intend, and only the first ones will appear on Sonnyboo.com and online for free. I have other plans for the rest…
There is nothing more to do with Horrors of War. I fulfilled all my promises. I delivered the movie and now I have been burnt to a crisp like a french fry in the boiling oil at the end of a shift at McDonalds when the lard starts to smell like sewer. If that’s not graphic enough, I have several other metaphors that are much more gross. I want nothing to do with the movie anymore. I’ve made some realizations in the last few weeks that show me that I have wasted the last year of my life. All the work I did on the WebDocs, the promotions, the screenings, the film festivals… all of it. It’s worthless. None of what I did seems to mean anything and I have countless hours of work and dedication poured down a drain of ineptitude and incompetence.
Based on this realization, I got depressed. I was not in depression, but it is not a happy time. Many things happen for a reason. I’m sure of it. My cat dying, this realization, all lead me to other, happier things. I’m not down; in fact, I’m finding new doors opening before me everyday. Opportunities seem to be making themselves known and finding me, as they always do.
STORYTIME!
I was called a month ago by a producer out of state who asked me if I was interested in directing her feature. I said I didn’t know, please send me a script. We talked about it and, as is usual in these cases, I was told it was the greatest screenplay and already everyone who reads it loves it. (FYI – every single person who ever shows someone a script says it’s the best, so this is hardly an indicator in any way of how it might be). Of course, she says that several studios are interested in the film already (even though it hasn’t been shot). We talk for a half an hour and she said she saw my director’s reel online and thought I’d be perfect to direct her movie. I tell her I’ll read it and let her know what I think of it.
She emails me the script and I skim it. I won’t lie, it’s too early in the relationship for me to put forth the 2 hours to read her script all the way through. I don’t know her. I don’t know anything about the situation, so I take the time to write out several questions in an email to feel this particular scenario out. Here are the questions and subsequent answers:
#1. What is the budget for the film?
$25,000
#2. What format is it being shot on?
HD
#3. How much is the salary for director?
$200 a day
#4. What are the shooting dates & what is the work week like?
End of October and 6 day work weeks, 12 hour days
#5. Who is editing the film and what involvement would I have in post production?
We have a Mac with Final Draft and as much as you want!
#6. What size crew is it?
Still working on this
#7. Who is the first A.D.?
ME!
#8. Is the cast set already?
Most of it.
#9. Is the money already in your bank account or a production bank account, or is it still pending from an investor still? (I need to actual, factual truth on this as I have been decieved in the past and seen whole productions shut down mid-shoot from the best laid plans & broken promises)
Money is in the bank!
Of course it is. These are just words to me until I see some $$$. I don’t mean to be mercenary, but please. If someone wants me to put my name on a feature and be involved creatively in the making of a movie, I need to know if it’s really happening and what all it entails. As I wrote in my book, the single most common mistake made in independent film is miscommunication. I wanted to be as clear as vodka on this from the start.
Since I’ve been right here in this very position many times in the last 6 years, I asked the questions right out of the gate. Based on her answers, it was time to see if they were true. I made an offer. I said I am absolutely on board, but I have one stipulation. I need HALF my salary up front, 3 weeks prior to the first day of shooting. For taking this monetary risk, I’d go out of state and do 1 week of pre production absolutely free, no charge to the production and buy my own food and everything (not lodging though). She said that was completely cool.
From there I got several emails of the script revisions every few days, requests to help find a cameraperson for the shoot, and other knick knacks, but no money. Again, I don’t like to be solely about the money, but until I know there really is money in the budget, I will NOT waste my time prepping and working on a movie that probably won’t happen.
I’m doing my freelance work and commercials, waiting for the 3 week deadline. I made some recommendations for camera. On the deadline, I called her and left a message and also emailed her. I was getting (all true) several offers for paid work during the time she wanted me for pre-production. I needed to make a choice so if we were going to do this project of hers, then I needed to know if a check was coming.
Her response was that her investor usually likes to see more work from someone before he cuts a check and that it wouldn’t be easy at that time for him to write any checks. Basically, she lied. Either she lied before or she was lying now because she initially told me that the money was already in HER bank account.
See? THIS is why I don’t get vested in a project until I know it’s more than the overly ambitious first timers that will ALWAYS speak optimistically when in fact they do NOT have it together. The wise Scott Spears often says he’ll believe it when the check has cleared and he’s on set the first day shooting. Not a bad way of viewing life in the low budget filmmaking world.
Lesson learned & put to good use. I lost nothing but a few minutes of time and avoided getting excited about what amounted to nothing by asking a lot of questions and being skeptical. If I were naïve, I would have wasted time, energy, passion, effort, and possibly spent money on someone else’s pipe dream and delusions of grandeur.
Kids, no matter what – always be honest with people about where things are at. Sure, you want people to take you seriously, but until your money is in the bank, there’s no reason for them to take you seriously, nor SHOULD you burn your own name and reputation by making promises that can’t be kept.
Well, acolytes of Boo, V is having trouble balancing himself on my head. When he sleeps, he tends to fall off my shoulder, then claws are used to catch himself…. Deeply entrenched in my skin. I have a long day tomorrow working for many masters and several projects.
Peace and Love and Good Happiness Stuff,
PJR
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DRINK IT UP! www.Sonnyboo.com
October 7th, 2006
V For the Visage of Villains & Victories
Now after the devastation of my last blog entry, I have some follow up news to go along with it. Many people, friends and even strangers, were affected by our loss of dear Spaz. On Wednesday night, we tried to resume the education of Micah on American Cinema, but I mostly just wanted to have people in the house again and reignite some of the warmth that made our happy home what it is.
I do so deeply appreciate the condolences, shared stories, sympathy, et al. One of the most effecting things was from my friend Cathy. She sent an endearing email to Brandy & I describing how the blog entry made her cry at work and that she even ran out of tissues halfway through. What separated her email from the many nice things was one particular sentence where she said, "I wish I could have re-written your story with a happy ending. " This moved me deeply.
The next day, Cathy emailed me and asked if we were interested in getting another kitty. Brandy & I had been discussing this very topic. We wanted to help out Cousette, Spaz' sister, who really realized that her brother was gone and was very lonely, so I said yes. A woman named Renee that Cathy worked with had one kitten left from a litter. I called her up and she said that this one little black 8 week old kitty was left and no one wanted him. He was the runt of the litter and very sweet. His story was all too much like Spaz', although he is very different. I said we'd take him in.
He joined our family today at 1:00PM. Sadly, Cousette is hardly thrilled about it for now… lots of hissing and lots of angry looks. In the end, she'll get used to her new baby brother and it will help her not be lonely. He's already slept in my lap and Brandy's. He's explored the world known as Rossdonia.
Thank you, Cathy. That's all we can ask for and it has helped us here in making our home happy again.
He looks eerily similar to TROUBLEMAKER from the HORRORS OF WAR shoot in Mechanicsburg, and at 8 weeks old, he's rather rambunctious. That's an understatement, he's a mountain-climber who has scaled the back of every chair in the house in less than 4 hours and goes up or down the stairs with effort, but as a giant ball of energy, manages just fine.
Brandy said I could name him, so I have. I named him "V". At least that's his nickname. He has a full name, but part of what I'll do different today in this blog is see who can guess what his first name is (hint: starts with a "V"). A free copy of THE BEST OF SONNYBOO DVD awaits the first person to guess V's entire first name, and as a bonus I'll give a free copy of my book to whoever can say what movie quote inspired the naming of this kitty (another hint: It was NOT from the movie "V FOR VENDETTA").
I don't believe this is a "happy ending", but a "New Beginning". The revolution has begun again and the cats conspire against one another and I try to remain neutral but with secret alliances with each party of their government, trying to maintain a level of control through subterfuge.
Cousette sees her new enemy…
V sees his quarry…
For a brief time, there is peace in Rossdonia!
Back to business…
Tonight I went to CONTEXT, a science fiction writing convention where HORRORS OF WAR played. It was a small crowd, but worth going for. I believe attending every screening possible and fostering a relationship with the audience is important. Even though anything to do with this movie annoys the hell out of me.
John Whitney & I worked on a new trailer for Horrors of War for the American Film Market. John did picture edit & I did the sound & music editing, just like last year. It was nauseating as I am completely sick of this movie and want desperately to move on. I believe my writer's block on the new script is intrinsically linked to still seeing and working on anything related to Horrors of War.
Last week Micah Jenkins and I attended the River City Film Festival. For a first year festival, they did everything right. There was a nice setup for filmmakers, the projection and sound were very well thought out and executed. Unfortunately, HORRORS OF WAR played last and I'm not sure what people were expecting, but the movie just plain didn't connect with this particular audience. Now anyone who works in the business long enough will know that sooner or later, your movie, no matter how good or bad will finally play for an audience that just doesn't get into it or maybe expectations were different.
This was the least fun screening for me and the Q&A afterwards cemented it. The first question of the night was "Why did you feel it necessary to denigrate the Jewish people by ignoring the Holocaust in your film? " … and the questions got worse from there. Let me start by saying that we are in no way disparaging the Jews or what they went through under the Nazi's, but we're not telling that story. I don't think any science fiction or horror story can possibly compare to the actual atrocities that took place, so why bother? Our story takes place before the Allies really commonly knew about concentration camps. Besides, they never touched on it in Saving Private Ryan either, so go get mad at Spielberg too.
If I needed any level of finality on my HORRORS OF WAR experience, that film festival audience did it for me. Sadly, I'll be in Michigan for the THRILLER! CHILLER! FILM FESTIVAL next weekend for a screening… again. At least this time we'll be playing to our target audience.
The book is doing well. I finally got a physical copy of the 6"x 9" update to the book. Oh yeah, it's definitely better. Since my last update, I had Dan Kiely check out the update and he had a great comment. In the last draft, I ended to book with how I made BACK OFFICE, then NEW WORLD. As Dan so eloquently pointed out, I ended to book with kind of a downer since NEW WORLD is really for me "How Not to Make a Movie". He said I should add the making of HORRORS OF WAR. Well, it's not exactly a short story. In the smaller, pocket sized paperback book, the abridged HORRORS OF WAR story took up 58 new pages. More pages = Higher Cost of the book. I then converted this over to the 6x9 book with bigger pictures, bigger, more legible font, and shaved 20 pages and can keep the price at $10 per book. Seeing it in the larger format, and HELL YEAH! It looks so damn cool. I have my own book I wrote. That's still cool to me. I don't see this losing its luster anytime soon.
I may be working on someone else's feature at the end of this month. I'm in negotiation to direct on this HD feature for someone and we'll see how that goes. More on that when there's more to report.
The script has not been writing itself, hard as I might hope that it would. My plans this week to write were derailed by Spaz' passing. I have not been in the right frame of mind to write comedy. Go figure. I think the damn of writer's block will soon end. V is already on my lap as I write this and I find my heart lifted from despair. Perhaps this new family dynamic will help the divine inspiration find it's mark. That and a visit from George Caleodis next week….
Thanks again acolytes. The Boo has heard your well wishings and is pleased.
-PJR
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DRINK IT UP! www.Sonnyboo.com
October 3rd, 2006
Casualties of War
For those who tune into this blog for filmmaking stuff, go ahead & skip on for the next time. Today I am distraught and it's purely personal.
In our humble abode, dubbed "Rossdonia", I have written on several occasions of Brandy's two cats, Cousette and Spaz, a brother & sister pair of mixed breeds. The reality is that in the past 4 and a half years, they have become just as much my cats too. I mostly work from home & I spend virtually every day with them. Even when I work a 14 hour day, they are not ignored when I get home, or when I sleep.
As I documented in the blogs of the past, when I do spend so much time at home, I would play with the cats on most days. Whether it was mock-trials where we determined who was guilty for the hairballs on the floor and the punishments would range from 15 minutes in the "pillows of persecution" (cushions from the couch & chairs) where a jailbreak was soon to erupt into the cats' favorite part of the day – "CHASE GAME"! I do have a strict policy of hugs & kisses after all games and I do enforce it. In case anyone misunderstood my entire history of the "Feline/Human Wars", it was a joke and it was what I do to entertain myself during the day with my two willing playmates – Cousette and Spaz.
I had very begrudgingly grown to love the cats. I am a dog person and have been my entire life. I never liked cats. When Brandy & I first started seeing each other, I was not inclined to take her cats in when we moved in together. First and foremost, I was allergic. We took the cats in at the old house on Indianola aka Rossdom, and they stayed in the basement. The first night I pet them and played with them, my eyes puffed up to the point where I couldn't see even when my eyes were "open". Their staying with us was supposed to be temporary, and they were meant to be confined to the basement during their stay. That lasted about a week before they were everywhere in the house & claiming a place in everyone's heart.
Spaz was anti-social. He's the black boy cat and let's face it, kinda ugly and not everyone's favorite. Combine that with the fact that he was not the sharpest tool in the shed, and Spaz was outcast. Cousette on the other hand is a very pretty, and very outgoing cat that loves company & loves to be pet. When people see them, they always comment on "She's such a pretty kitty", and no one says a word about Spaz. It took some time, but I got in there with Spaz. After a few months of seeing this unfairness, I made it my own personal mission in life to make Spaz feel special. In the same way that I see some people are not almost invisible in the crowd, I'll make a stupid nickname, or put a "the" in front of their name so that other people will notice them, I started to make Spaz feel special. Before we moved from the house on Indianola, I just randomly started calling Spaz "BATMAN" and got excited whenever he came in the room. I don't think anyone ever got excited when he came in the room, so it took a few weeks for him to warm up to it, and he even started thinking his name was BATMAN.
That nickname passed, and variations of his name Spaz took the form of "Spazociter", "Mr. Spaz Anderson" (a play on the "Mr. Anderson from the matrix movies, said in the Agent Smith voice for effect), "Spaz-dork", and so on. Regardless, it was always some kind of greeting every single day, sometimes more than once a day.
I have a semi-normal routine every day. I get up and go down to my computer & check my email. En route, Spaz is either on the couch behind me, in bed with me, or soon to be at my legs and wanting his greeting I had trained him to want. I never denied it to him. Even after I go to lunch or go to a job during the day, even if I was only gone for an hour, Spaz would get excited to see me return home. He would wake up from his fat lump spot and want to have his attention.
The last two years, here at this place, where Brandy and I have labored to make a home, Spaz found a peace and happiness he never had before. He was never miserable, but Spaz was obviously at his most jovial. He was not running away from house guests, and he even would go up to strangers that came in because his self confidence had grown. Spaz had in the past chewed or scratched hair off parts of his body from itches. He always had patches of hair missing, but since we moved here, his fur was thick and clean. Spaz was happy.
Last week, I noticed Spaz had started to have labored breathing. It was subtle and you could only hear it if you put your head up against him. Every day it got a little worse, but sometimes a little better. We held off on taking him to the vet because we hoped it was small & would get better over time, but Brandy & I are not financially well off, so a vet visit is too expensive.
Sunday morning, I had to go do work at Tavares Teleproductions and had to leave the house at some point. I did my morning routine and I noticed Spaz had no left my bed. He was too tired. After I took a shower, he got to the top of the steps and I sat down & played with him. He was particularly playful, rolled on his back. Spaz's ultimate sign of affection was to play-bite and he bit me several times and loved being toyed with.
I got home a little bit after 11:00PM Sunday night and Spaz came downstairs to see me, but his breath was much labored. I pet him on his head and then held him like a baby, and rubbed his belly to calm him down. Brandy came home a few minutes later and we immediately decided to take him to the emergency vet. I checked online and found the nearest 24 hour place. I drove and Brandy was to hold Spaz. Spaz is a house cat and does NOT go outside. When we've taken him with us to get the mail on the front porch, we squirms and panics, so we knew a car ride was going to be brutal. It was.
Spaz panicked and his breathing got even more erratic. We drove as fast as we could only to find the facility closed. This was traumatic enough without these asshole mis-advertising. We were in the car with no alternate place to go so I tried calling friends, but my cell phone minutes ran out. We pull into the E.R. of St. Annes human hospital. I hold Spaz while Brandy runs into the E.R. to find another place. I held Spaz close to me, held him like a baby and just talked to him. His breathing eased some, but he was still not good, and worse than at home. Brandy got directions and we were off again as I handed him back to her.
We find the other place nearly 20 minutes later and get Spaz into emergency care. We sit in the waiting room awaiting any kind of news for over an hour, hoping for the best. A Vet asks us all kinds of questions about Spaz and tell us that he's still very panicked and scared, so until the sedative kicks in they can't get X-rays to find out what the problem is. More waiting. Knowing Spaz, I assume it will be a long while. We left unprepared, so I volunteer to go home & grab some things for our vigil. I also wanted to see Cousette because she & Spaz have never been separated before.
I cried in the car, but we were pretty close to home. I start to grab things when Brandy calls. She said she got an update. Spaz is in an oxygen tank and they gave him some steroids to open up his lungs and he was stable. They wanted to keep him overnight, but we could see him. When I got back there, Brandy had a partial bill that exceeded $1,000 already and the estimate to keep Spaz the next day was over $2,000 more. Our only other option was to transport him to another vet when they opened at 8:00AM because by 8:30AM, when there was a shift change, we'd have to pay the new balance.
They gave us a list of other vets in the area and phone numbers. We could go back & see Spaz. We went to see him and there he was in this cold, sterile room in a little clear box getting oxygen pumped in. My heart sunk seeing him in there. He was alert and awake, and immediately recognized us. Brandy reached in the hand hole and pet his head & I his back. Brandy asked if I wanted to pet his head & so I did. I put my face down into the hole and talked to Spaz and he got up with all his strength and reached his little face out and kissed me. He tried to get out of this little hole and come to us, but they started to close the hand holes. I couldn't hold back my tears at all. I broke down.
We left together utterly shaken. We came home and tried with futility to sleep. With maybe an hour to an hour and a half of sleep, we went back to the emergency vet's at 7:45AM to start prepping for the transporting of Spaz to another facility. The vet told us that he had a good chance and that Spaz might come through. They sedated him so that the drive wouldn't be so bad. Brandy and I switched so that she would drive and I would hold Spaz. When they brought him to me, he was so out of it and still breathing very hard. I wrapped him in a blanket and we hauled ass to the first vet open we had called. It was the longest drive of my life as I talked to Spaz and held him close. He put his little paws on my face, reaching out to me as I talked softly to him the entire drive. I held him like a baby as I often did at the front window, rubbing his tummy and talking to him about anything, the first time I met him, about games we played, anything to keep him calm and it seemed to work, except he was getting more and more labored.
We got there to a place on Morse Rd. that wasn't very advanced or anything. They spent 5 minutes with him and said, they were not equipped to handle this. He needed an oxygen tank and special care they weren't capable of. They gave us directions to another facility and we were off. We get to this other place about a mile and half away, and they take him right back. Within 15 minutes, their vet had looked over Spaz and reviewed all the info from the emergency vet and told us that they would continue the therapy started at the E.R. and see what could be done. In a few hours she'd call and let us know how he's responding.
After seeing how Spaz looked, I think we both knew in our hearts that Spaz was going. He was trying so hard to breathe. Our brave little boy was too far gone. The vet called us and said he was more alert, and had gotten better, but was not really improved on breathing. We got in the car & went to see him.
Poor little Spaz was breathing so heavy and it looked exhausting and we knew we had to let him go. We had come to say goodbye to our little boy Spaz. We told the doctor it was time and they took us into a private room. I carried him in, holding him and telling him that I loved him. I didn't think I could even be there in the room when he passed. I gave him to Brandy to hold and say her goodbyes too. I was going to leave the room, when I turned my back on Spaz, he cried out & reached his little paws out to me. I couldn't leave him then. I pet him on the head and Brandy held on to him when the doctor made the injection. We felt his little body go limp and the doctor took him. Curled in a ball, exactly as he spent most of his days on the couch or on my lap, or on Brandy's, that's how he looked when he left us.
We couldn't go home just yet, so Brandy and I went to the park where we go often. We tried to remember everything good and pure that we ever knew about Spaz. What occurred to me then was something I never realized. I have spent my whole life trying to create a surrogate family, or join one. My own relations with my family are estranged at best. Brandy to her own family is not that different. What we had created together was a family. We live together, we treat her cats as our kids and everything really was familial for us. I had not thought of it in those terms until Spaz passed. We're family and we lost one of our own.
We came home after the walk. The house seems so much emptier. It didn't help that they were working on the roof, so the electric was supposed to be off for a few hours. I tried to sleep in my bed, but the thought that Spaz was not jumping on the bed drove sleep from my mind. Later I tried sleeping on the couch, but then the realization that never once did I nap on this couch without Spaz with me kept sleep from starting.
Brandy had to work at 6:00PM, so she left, brave as she could be, and I was left alone with Cousette. Cousette hasn't figured it out yet, but she's looking at all of Spaz' spots. She started crying and howling, so I just pet her and talked to her. She doesn't understand. They've never been apart, so it's slowly dawning on her that she's alone and he's not coming back.
I have the notice from the Condo association clearly stating that the power would be off from 10:00AM till "no later than 2:00PM". It was 10:45:PM when the lights came on. I spent several hours in the dark, alone with my misery. I wanted to try to distract myself, anything to keep my mind from losing my friend, my boy, Spaz. I can't ask Brandy not to work, plus we would have both been stuck in the dark. It compounded my sorrow and I miss him so much. When Brandy got home, she left work early and came home because she was so distraught. Spaz and Cousette had been with her since their birth and he was 10 years old. Brandy couldn't sleep. It's still very deep.
In the end, I made several realizations. When I set out to make Spaz feel special, it was for no real reason. I had told the little bugger several times that I loved him over the years, especially the last year or two. What I didn't know was how much he loved me back. He was a part of my daily life for 4 and half years. I didn't take him for granted, but that doesn't really ease my pain. Brandy's still very shook up.
I've faced death of people that were close to me. In the years since, I have built up buffers and emotional barriers to prevent me from feeling like this. I don't know how, but Spaz cracked my armor. I've let Brandy and the cats form a family of our own and together we have made a happy home. Here, it was a four way street. Our mutual love of each other made the spirit of our home a happy one. Without our buddy Spaz, it's a little less happy.
Today I started my routine, but there is a hollowness that I have not known in many years. He's not on the couch or in my bed. Brandy left for work and Cousette and I are alone. Today is the first day without Spaz. It seemed like such a small thing, but what it really is to me is a little hole in my heart where Spaz used to be.
Many thanks to those who called and emailed us with your condolences. It has meant a lot to us and we're glad you've shown your care. To those who knew Spaz, I'm sure you meant a lot to him too. The last years of his life were very happy, and that's the best gift you can give to anyone or anything.
- Peter John Ross
