Of course, the wiser part of me knows this is a recipe for disaster (or at least disappointment). But sometimes the id screams like a toddler being forcibly removed from the toy aisle and the hubris of me insisting on doing things my way prevails.

But in saner moments, I realize that I simply need to catch the dreams and ideas that come to me, give ‘em some love, take a few action steps…and then release the trajectory of their manifestation to God.

My best friend recently gave me one of the most beautifully thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received: a very cool replica of an old school drive-in theater speaker. Her note said:

“To remind you that you are a screenwriter and filmmaker. Regardless of the fact that it may not look like what you thought it would.”

I was touched not only by her belief in my work, but how spot-on she was about the fact that our desires don’t always come to us in neat little packages designed by our imaginations.

Ever since I fell in love with screenwriting in college, I pictured that my films would one day end up with one of the big studios.  (Granted, this was when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and before everything was available on YouTube…but I digress…). My producing partner Curt Apduhan and I tried for years to get into the Hollywood club. Curt is an Emmy award-winning cinematographer, who has worked with a lot of famous people who are well-entrenched in the studio system. But even with his personal and professional connections, we always seemed to get thisclose with one of our scripts, and then…crickets.

Finally, we decided that it was time to stop wasting time courting approval and just make a movie on our own. Even if it wasn’t a full-length feature backed by millions of dollars and starring a household name, it was still tangible proof that we knew how to write and produce something screen-worthy.

So, we shot our first short film, “Anniversary” with an amazing cast of three in a friend’s home (whose living room was miraculously transformed by our set designer into a hotel suite). We were on a shoestring budget, but everyone involved gave so generously of their time and talent that we ended up with a beautiful film that was very well-received at several festivals in the U.K.

We may still make it to Hollywood one day. Or maybe not. But I will never forget the thought that came to me as I stood on set for the first time and watched the actors say my words:

“I don’t know if I could be any happier if this were being played out on a giant soundstage or a glamorous location. I love filmmaking, period. I just want to be in the game.”

And as of this writing, I still am. Another short film produced and screened at festivals last year, and one more in the works that will be expanded to a feature. At least that’s the plan.

(I know, I know…cue the “we plan, God laughs” jokes.)

But I’ve done my best to catch and cultivate the dreams that come to me. Now begins the continual process of prying my fingers off of the steering wheel.

Time to let the Divine do the driving.

But that wasn’t the whole story.

When my filmmaking partner Curt Apdhuan first spoke to me early last year about writing the script for WFG, I immediately fell in love with the idea of the film being created as a tribute to his dearly departed Maltese Priscilla. And it was also a nice way to create a memento of Beau, his sixteen year old Shih Tzu (and our leading man) who is starting to feel his years quite a bit.

So, I got to work on it right away and after several go-rounds we had a final draft by spring.  My heart ached for Curt’s loss, but I was silently grateful that my two dogs – Ranger and Devo – were only 3 1/2 and 6 1/2 years old, respectively.  Surely, I would have many more years before I had to even think about memorializing them.

I never dreamed that before the end of 2015, I would be saying goodbye to both of my sweet boys in all too rapid succession.  Ranger in August.  Devo two days before Christmas.  Both had forms of cancer that were inexplicable in such otherwise healthy and youthful dogs.

I have a friend who often says, “Never ask the ‘why’ question.” But when grief goes to work on your psyche, that’s a pretty tall order.  Where had we failed them?  Feeding the wrong food?  Missing symptoms we should have seen?  Toxic pesticides on the dog park grass?  The possibilities were (and still are) endless and maddening.

But even as I try to stop torturing myself with the aforementioned “why’s,” there is one that remains.  And it’s not so much painful as it is simply confounding.

Why did I end up living my own script?

I’m not sure I’ll ever have an answer for that one. But what I do have is this:  an even greater desire than before to share WFG with as many people as I can.  My hope is that this film can provide comfort.  To reassure people that they aren’t alone in their pain of losing their beloved animal companion, and console them as they try to make sense of something that seems so senseless.

Ranger (“Bear”)  Hughes 2012-2015                                                              Devo (“Peanut”) Hughes 2009-2015