Zigsta
Disney Film Director
Link to original post: [drupal=3733]What Drives Me: Champ[/drupal]
I'm so glad User Blogs is back up and running again. I've been wanting to make a series of blogs for a while now, but I've had to hold them off. Well no longer! I'll be continually posting entries called "What Drives Me," my own personal inspirations that keep me pushing forward in both my film and Brawl career. I hope you enjoy them, you enjoy getting to know me as a person better, and you reflect on your own inspirations!
As some of you may know, I was working in Hollywood this summer as part of the UTLA program, where I was one of 40 film students from UT who took film classes in LA while interning at a film studio. One day in my Creative Process class, we were asked to write down and share one of our goals. I thought about a particular goal right away, but I changed it to a more film-related goal so the class knew how legit I was. My teacher told me I wasn't personal enough, and I wouldn't succeed as a screenwriter without that personal touch.
Then I got a phone call that shattered my world. My dad called me to say my 14 year-old golden retriever, Champ, was dying. And he'd probably pass before I could return home from LA. What struck me even deeper is that was my goal I didn't mention in class: To get over my greatest fear--the fear of my dog dying when I was away from home. I felt like Champ was telling me something was wrong with him, yet I turned him down just for pushing my image as a filmmaker forward. That night, I prayed harder than I've ever prayed: "Please God. Please don't let Champ die on me. Not while I can't be there with him."
I couldn't sleep. I called my dad the next morning. Champ couldn't walk. He couldn't even stand to go to the bathroom. He wasn't eating or drinking. His muscles were slowly being eaten away. I could hardly keep the phone up. I could hardly speak.
After the phone call, I sat down on the toilet and cried harder than I've ever cried in my life. My best friend was going to die without me there by his side. I would give anything to take all his pain and bear it myself. As I cried my heart out, I saw a flash of images in my mind--images of Champ. Memories we shared, dating back to when he first ran into my arms when I was in only 1st grade, when I first named him "Champ."
And then the images disappeared, replaced by a golden sunrise. Two deep, loving brown eyes opened and stared directly into my very soul. And my tears instantly vanished. No words needed be spoken. I knew this was Champ reaching out and touching me, telling me he didn't want me to cry. I rededicated myself to becoming THE man in Hollywood. I was going to take the town by storm. Champ wants nothing short by success for me.
That night, I got another call. Champ was walking on his own! He was eating! He was drinking! My prayers had been answered, and my confidence rose to utterly phenomenal levels that carried throughout the summer. My dog wasn't going down that easily!
When I returned home two months later, Champ didn't greet me at the door as usual. He was laying down on the floor and didn't even realize I had walked in. I knew something was wrong with him when he didn't respond to my calling his name. I sat down next to him and whispered his name gently. Champ slowly opened his eyes and smiled at me before reaching out to lick my palm just once. I could tell that single lick took every bit of energy he had. It would be the last time he ever licked me.
Cancer was spreading throughout Champ's body. He had a rough summer, but something kept him hanging on. It's like he was waiting for me. He knew how scared I was for him to die without me by his side.
We took Champ to the vet to see if there was anything we could do to help Champ. He said at this point that Champ was only going to get worse. The best option for Champ was for him to be put down. It rocked me to my core. I wasn't expecting for this to be my last day with him.
I told my family the last thing I wanted was for Champ to be in pain. If there was anything I could do to help him feel normal, I'd do it, no matter how hard it was for me. We all cried and pet Champ as we said our goodbyes. The vet came in. He addressed me directly--I realized my entire family had backed up slightly. Champ was always my dog--I realized then they were all letting me remember this moment. He pulled out the syringe. I choked on my words as I asked the vet if I could say my last words.
I leaned over Champ, tears pouring all over his body, and told him he was the best dog I could have ever gotten. He wasn't just my best friend. He was my brother. I told him I hadn't forgotten our promise. (I always talked to Champ about how I wish we could just go on adventures together and see the world and meet new people. Five years ago, I promised Champ that when he died, I would begin working on a screenplay featuring himself as an angel who traveled the world with a character written after myself. That way Champ would become forever immortalized in film, and I could share his love with the world. I've since begun working on the screenplay.) It was the hardest words I've ever said in my life.
And then the vet stuck the syringe in. I stared Champ right in his eyes and stroked Champ's fur as my family watched on. I stared right into his eyes and watched the life drain from him. And then I shut his eyelids.
Even now, this is difficult for me just to type. Talking about Champ's death is the one thing that genuinely gets me to cry nearly uncontrollably.
Champ was a blessing in my life. He was a constant friend, always happy to see me and greet new people. I learned to be an outgoing happy person through him--it's one of the reasons, if you meet me at a Brawl tournament, you'll find me to be so outgoing and eager to meet new people. I know he's watching over me right now, and he's excited to see my future unfold. I know he lives in me.
Whenever I find myself with a lot on my plate, I think about Champ and how happy he always was to see me. When my classmates tormented me when I was younger and made me cry, he was there for me to cry on. He was my rock. He IS my rock. I can think of no better way to honor Champ's memory by telling as many people as I can about him, and to live my life just as Champ would: with confidence and happiness.
I'm so glad User Blogs is back up and running again. I've been wanting to make a series of blogs for a while now, but I've had to hold them off. Well no longer! I'll be continually posting entries called "What Drives Me," my own personal inspirations that keep me pushing forward in both my film and Brawl career. I hope you enjoy them, you enjoy getting to know me as a person better, and you reflect on your own inspirations!
As some of you may know, I was working in Hollywood this summer as part of the UTLA program, where I was one of 40 film students from UT who took film classes in LA while interning at a film studio. One day in my Creative Process class, we were asked to write down and share one of our goals. I thought about a particular goal right away, but I changed it to a more film-related goal so the class knew how legit I was. My teacher told me I wasn't personal enough, and I wouldn't succeed as a screenwriter without that personal touch.
Then I got a phone call that shattered my world. My dad called me to say my 14 year-old golden retriever, Champ, was dying. And he'd probably pass before I could return home from LA. What struck me even deeper is that was my goal I didn't mention in class: To get over my greatest fear--the fear of my dog dying when I was away from home. I felt like Champ was telling me something was wrong with him, yet I turned him down just for pushing my image as a filmmaker forward. That night, I prayed harder than I've ever prayed: "Please God. Please don't let Champ die on me. Not while I can't be there with him."
I couldn't sleep. I called my dad the next morning. Champ couldn't walk. He couldn't even stand to go to the bathroom. He wasn't eating or drinking. His muscles were slowly being eaten away. I could hardly keep the phone up. I could hardly speak.
After the phone call, I sat down on the toilet and cried harder than I've ever cried in my life. My best friend was going to die without me there by his side. I would give anything to take all his pain and bear it myself. As I cried my heart out, I saw a flash of images in my mind--images of Champ. Memories we shared, dating back to when he first ran into my arms when I was in only 1st grade, when I first named him "Champ."
And then the images disappeared, replaced by a golden sunrise. Two deep, loving brown eyes opened and stared directly into my very soul. And my tears instantly vanished. No words needed be spoken. I knew this was Champ reaching out and touching me, telling me he didn't want me to cry. I rededicated myself to becoming THE man in Hollywood. I was going to take the town by storm. Champ wants nothing short by success for me.
That night, I got another call. Champ was walking on his own! He was eating! He was drinking! My prayers had been answered, and my confidence rose to utterly phenomenal levels that carried throughout the summer. My dog wasn't going down that easily!
When I returned home two months later, Champ didn't greet me at the door as usual. He was laying down on the floor and didn't even realize I had walked in. I knew something was wrong with him when he didn't respond to my calling his name. I sat down next to him and whispered his name gently. Champ slowly opened his eyes and smiled at me before reaching out to lick my palm just once. I could tell that single lick took every bit of energy he had. It would be the last time he ever licked me.
Cancer was spreading throughout Champ's body. He had a rough summer, but something kept him hanging on. It's like he was waiting for me. He knew how scared I was for him to die without me by his side.
We took Champ to the vet to see if there was anything we could do to help Champ. He said at this point that Champ was only going to get worse. The best option for Champ was for him to be put down. It rocked me to my core. I wasn't expecting for this to be my last day with him.
I told my family the last thing I wanted was for Champ to be in pain. If there was anything I could do to help him feel normal, I'd do it, no matter how hard it was for me. We all cried and pet Champ as we said our goodbyes. The vet came in. He addressed me directly--I realized my entire family had backed up slightly. Champ was always my dog--I realized then they were all letting me remember this moment. He pulled out the syringe. I choked on my words as I asked the vet if I could say my last words.
I leaned over Champ, tears pouring all over his body, and told him he was the best dog I could have ever gotten. He wasn't just my best friend. He was my brother. I told him I hadn't forgotten our promise. (I always talked to Champ about how I wish we could just go on adventures together and see the world and meet new people. Five years ago, I promised Champ that when he died, I would begin working on a screenplay featuring himself as an angel who traveled the world with a character written after myself. That way Champ would become forever immortalized in film, and I could share his love with the world. I've since begun working on the screenplay.) It was the hardest words I've ever said in my life.
And then the vet stuck the syringe in. I stared Champ right in his eyes and stroked Champ's fur as my family watched on. I stared right into his eyes and watched the life drain from him. And then I shut his eyelids.
Even now, this is difficult for me just to type. Talking about Champ's death is the one thing that genuinely gets me to cry nearly uncontrollably.
Champ was a blessing in my life. He was a constant friend, always happy to see me and greet new people. I learned to be an outgoing happy person through him--it's one of the reasons, if you meet me at a Brawl tournament, you'll find me to be so outgoing and eager to meet new people. I know he's watching over me right now, and he's excited to see my future unfold. I know he lives in me.
Whenever I find myself with a lot on my plate, I think about Champ and how happy he always was to see me. When my classmates tormented me when I was younger and made me cry, he was there for me to cry on. He was my rock. He IS my rock. I can think of no better way to honor Champ's memory by telling as many people as I can about him, and to live my life just as Champ would: with confidence and happiness.
