It’s new to you!

Summertime in my youth was always a double-edged sword.
On the one hand, it meant no school, and long days of swimming, exploring the wash, daring each other to race our bikes without hands down The Big Hill, and endless sleepovers.
On the other hand, it meant that there wouldn’t be anything new or interesting on TV for at least four months.
Isn’t it strange, that as children we could watch the same episodes of Scooby Doo and Gilligan’s Island over and over again, and never get tired of them, but when summer showed up, and CHiPs went into re-runs, it was a major thing?
Maybe it’s just me.
So I hated re-runs. I always felt like the people making the shows were loafing, and I wanted my TV, dammit.
Then eMpTyVee came along, and gave me the attention span of a ferret, and I didn’t care any more.
Oh, this is totally unrelated to anything, but I have really nasty poison oak on my right arm, and the back of my left hand. I must have gotten it when I took Ryan geocaching last weekend. Yesterday, I scratched my arm so badly I made it bleed. I looked like I was from one of those scary movies about a guy who has poison oak and he scratches his arm so badly it bleeds. Scary!
Where was I? Ah. Reruns.
So I hated them. But, since I work primarily as a writer now, I understand that there are days, weeks, or even months, when you are just completely out of ideas.
This week has been like that. All of my creative energy is going to Arena, the ACME show, and getting ready for the sketch comedy show on the cruise.
But you know the cool thing about re-runs? If you didn’t watch every episode, the re-run would be what the geniuses at NBC called “New To You!” Meaning, of course, that they wouldn’t have to do any new work, and they could entertain a whole new group of people for free.
So guess what I’m doing today? Re-running an old weblog entry from August 27, 2001.
It’s a story that I really like to tell, and that I’d like to share with anyone who’s just showing up for the first time around here.
It’s the story of how my wife found our dog, and it’s called “Save Ferris.”

Save Ferris

I’m listening to Cake right now. Have you noticed that Cake is one of those bands that evokes a visceral reaction in people? I mean, they either really, really love it, or they really, really hate it. I dunno, maybe it’s just me.
Here’s the story of Ferris:
My wife is the coolest, ever. You know that stupid corny hallmark-card thing about someone making you want to be a better person? Well, sorry, I like to be anti and all Emo and shit, but it’s true. I love my wife more than anything, and she really does make me want to be a better person. I could gush about her for pages here, but I’m not gonna. I am going to exercise restraint.
Oh, fuck that. I knew from the moment that I saw Anne that I would marry her. Isn’t that weird? Has that ever happened to someone who wasn’t in some godawful Nora Ephron movie? And the way we met…it was all timing. My best girlfriend, Stephanie, worked with Anne for YEARS, but she never introduced us…I mean, she even babysat Anne’s kids, at MY PARENT’S HOUSE when we were younger, and she never introduced me to Anne…because, when we look back at stuff, the timing was just all wrong. We weren’t ready to meet each other. But when we did, it was bootylicious.
Anne is beautiful. I mean, she is fucking hella rad.
Hella.
Hella.
Hella.
I always joke that when we are out, people look at us and complain that there’s another hot babe with a geek. I say that I am Bob Goldthwait to her Nikki Cox, David Copperfield to her Claudia Schiffer, Sigfried to her Roy…I truly adore my wife, and that’s all I have to say about that.
One of the things I adore about her is how she has what Soul Coughing called “Boundless Love”. Anne works every day, takes her kids to school, picks them up, deals with their dad, and still has time to make me feel like I’m important in her life.
We have this fake dog poop that someone gave us a long time ago, and we have the game that we play, where we try to put the poop in each other’s stuff. Recently, I stuck it in the toe of her shoe, which was in her suitcase. She found it when she put her shoe on in Vegas. She put it in the exact middle of my bed, under the sheets, and it scared the hell out of me when I jumped into bed around 230 or something last week. My point is, my wife is cool, okay? Yesterday, when I was sobbing like a little bitch in our bedroom, she came in, sat next to me, put her arm around me, and just sat there, loving me. I could feel it. Then she gave me Kleenex, and told me that she’d leave me alone until I felt better.
So you need to know that to understand the story of Ferris.
Anne is a sucker for hard-luck cases, especially animals. One time a few years ago, she almost got hit on the freeway, because she saw a kitten running in the slow lane…so she stopped her car right there and got out to save the kitten, but it got hit by a car just before Anne could get to it, and Anne sat on the freeway, holding the kitten while it died in her hands.
She was fucked up about it for months.
So about 18 months ago, she and I are on our patio, and we hear this meowing coming from our garage. We both thought it was one of my cats, Biko or Sketch, (who are both inside cats, but occasionally get out), so we went to look…and out comes this skinny black cat with no tail. Anne immediately falls in love with him, and she takes him to the vet, to get him healthy again, while I make the “Found Cat” posters. Long story short: We thought he was going to die, the vet said he was just dehydrated, we got him shots, and Anne named him “Felix”. He has lived with us ever since, and he is one ot the coolest cats, ever.
Shortly after Felix came to live with us, a woman Anne works with told us about this guide dog she trained, who was also named Felix. She told us that Felix works for a guy up in Canada (and you can’t spell “runaway production” without Canada!), and Felix had been hit by a car, and they weren’t sure if he would be able to work as a guide dog any more. I guess when a service dog has to be retired, they give the person who trained that animal the right of first refusal as a place to live out their life, but Rita (Anne’s friend) lives in an apartment with her husband and young son. Not the best place for a 90 pound lab. So Rita asked her if Felix could come to live with us, and of course Anne said “yes”. Long story short: Felix was okay, and he’s still working with his guy in Canada. Which is great, because I can only imagine what the bond between service dog and owner must be like. I would just speculate that it’s similar to parent-child, and I always hoped that Felix would be able to stay with his guy. In the process of waiting to see if Felix would come live with us, we got on a list for guide dogs who flunk their final exam, because we have wanted a dog for AGES, and we thought that would be the best way to get one.
We are ADAMANTLY opposed to pet stores selling dogs and cats, by the way /soapbox.
Anyway, cut to Memorial day this year. We have no dog. Anne is taking the kids to Home Depot, so they can buy the materials necessary to make a grind rail (they’re all about the short boards. I’m all about the long boards. It makes for an interesting dynamic when we skate).
Funny aside: Ryan (12) and Nolan (10) were talking about how excited they were to get a grind rail, which they kept calling a “pole”. Nolan says to Ryan, “We TOTALLY have to get some grinding wax, Ryan!” Ryan replies, “Yeah, so we can wax our pole!”
Okay, so they’re leaving the Home Depot, and instead of going to the left, to get back to the freeway like they always do, Anne goes right, and passes this bus stop, where this tiny little dog is chewing on a t-shirt. Anne says that she felt compelled to stop and save her. So she did. As soon as she got out of the car, the dog ran into some Oleander bushes, and Anne spent close to 30 minutes getting her out, and took her to an Emergency vet, for some shots and to get the ticks out of her ears.
So Anne brings home this skinny, 27 pound, depressed little dog, and I must be totally honest, I was pissed. I was so mad that she had made this huge decision to take on the responsibility of a dog without consulting me. I mean, we have enough responsibilities already, you know? We really had it out. There was much gnashing of teeth, and Sir Robin soiled his armor. We finally agreed to keep her for a few days, and see how she was, and if she wasn’t any better, we’d take her to a shelter where they don’t euthanize the animals.
Well, the dog was terrified of me. She had CLEARLY been abused by a man, and she was terrified of men. “Great,” I thought, “I’m going to be responsible for a dog who never lets me pet her. Terriffic.”
And for the first 12 hours–wait, I know I’m not supposed to start a sentence with a conjunction. But I can’t spell for shit, so why are you complaining now? Jeeze. Get off my back, Mrs. Lee [9th grade english teacher who flunked me because she said I couldn’t write. I win.]–for the first 12 hours, she sat by the side door, never moving, never eating, just looking depressed. But somehow, my amazing wife loved this dog enough, and totally turned her around. Within 12 hours she was wagging her entire body, eating, chasing a tennis ball, and generally acting like a dog. And she let me pet her, and started following me everywhere around our house.
So we decided to keep her. But she needed a name…and that was very important. I wanted to give her a name from Mythology…”Athena” or “Psyche” or something. I know, lame. Deal. The kids wanted to name her “Haley”, which didn’t work for me at ALL, because in high school I had the most painful crush on a girl named Haley who treated me like Duckie…so we decided that we’d try on different names for a few days, and the right one would reveal itself to us.
Anne comes home from work the next day, comes in the door, looks at me and says, “Ferris.”
“Bueller?”
“Sort of. Save Ferris!”
Okay, there is this band from OC that we LOVE called Save Ferris. They play with our friends fairview a lot. They rule.
Anne says, “Get it? Save Ferris. I totally saved Ferris!”
I looked at the dog, looked at her sweet, marble eyes and soft little puppy-fuzzy-head, and it was perfect. Not surprising, considering that it came from my wife.
So her name is “Ferris”.
Isn’t that a cool story?
Anyone?
Anyone?
Bueller?
Bueller?

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121 thoughts on “It’s new to you!”

  1. Wil, it sounds like you have an awesome family. A Hella gorgeous wife and some funny kids. 🙂

  4. Hey Wil. Great story. I read it when you originally posted it about a year ago, but it’s still really sweet. It’s really cool how it shows how much you love your awesome family (and of course, pets are part of the family too!).
    This just goes to prove that sometimes reruns can be really cool and give you that “warm fuzzy feeling” inside.
    Lol. Yeah I know I need a life….
    ~S(hannon)

  6. When are you getting a dog named Cameron to take the day off with Ferris? Or you could just name it Capt. Harriman.

  7. Thanks for reposting that- I’m one of the people who hasn’t read that particular blog entry that, and I love hearing about pets.
    Which reminds me- a friend of mine has this cat that she recently adopted named Blitzen. Blitz isn’t doing too well, and the vets have been trying to figure out what’s wrong with him for the past several weeks. So if any of you could send some healing mojo to Blitzen (and some happy mojo for his owner, Khaki), I’m sure it’d be much appreciated.
    And Wil, give Anne some extra hugs from me for being so kind to animals who really need it. I’m glad you’ve found such a loving person to be with! 🙂

  9. a great story wil…..and obviously a great wife and family
    thanks for bringing it back…
    it WAS new to me!
    i’v eonly been around for a year or so, poking in and out, and only in the last 5 or 6 months have made this a daily stop….so it was cool to read that….
    thanks Wil
    ty

  10. I gotta admit I always wondered how you settled on ferris for a dog name, I was just considering naming my first born ferris.

  11. Wil
    Great story! I’d never read it before, so it was New To Me! It’s obvious that family is very important to you and instead of being some jaded Hollywood jerk, you’re a regular guy. Lots of respect for that! Please don’t ever lose that quality.
    Cake + visceral reaction? I think it’s you. I like a few of their songs but that’s about it. Somehow I’d think that something pop and evil would cause a visceral reaction, but THAT could be just me.

  12. I just started reading this site a few months ago, so I guess I qualify as part of the “New To You!” audience. Wil, your depth and sensitivity continue to amaze me! Anne is one lucky woman. How cool would it be to be loved and love someone so completely?! Just when I’m about to swear off men as unfeeling jerks, I read something like this. Sigh. Can you give workshops for the guys I’ve been out with lately?

  13. I’ve been visiting this blog regurarly since mid September last year, and this was totally new to me (I never got to browse the archives). Thanks for that look back, Wil, and as always, your stories amaze me 🙂
    You are blessed in so many ways.

  14. Well, um, now that I’m back from blubbing like a great big wuss….
    That is without doubt one of the sweetest, coolest stories ever. your wife did the right thing, and I bet you’ve never really regreted it.
    Oh, and speaking as a guy who absolutely adores fuzzy animals, especially dogs, is there any chance you could post a picture of Ferris?
    Please?

  15. Wil,
    Such a sweet story! It is also new to me, as I haven’t read many of your past blogs. I think it’s great that you can share your happiness with all of us ‘boxers. Some guys are uncomfortable with that, but to each his own, I guess. :]
    Thanks for the re-run!

  17. You’re right about reruns. I use to get so pissed when a repeat of Love Boat came on!
    *Cue the song*
    Love, exciting & new come aboard we’re expecting you… bleh!
    Sounds like you’ve found someone who makes you happy. There’s nothing better then a real live person (those blow up dolls sometimes pop) you love sleeping next to you through the night. As long as she doesn’t snore or have IBS.
    I think for your next prank you should stick a real turd in her shoe.

  18. What a sweet tale. You ranimals are such and integrate part of your family. My boyfriend and I adore out kitties like they were our children too.

  19. That was a very cool story, Wil. It sounds like Anne is very compassionate. If a person is a true animal lover, it says so much about their over-all personality too.
    BTW-mad props to your dog’s name sake. They go above and beyond.

  20. That was a very cool story, Wil. It sounds like Anne is very compassionate. If a person is a true animal lover, it says so much about their over-all personality too.
    BTW-mad props to your dog’s name sake. They go above and beyond.

  21. Great doggie story, but now *I’M* fucked up after reading about the kitten who got run over. My cat’s gonna have it in for you since when I get home I’m going to hug him for hours. He can’t stand that. ;P

  22. New to me, too. Well, after following the “sobbing like a little bitch” link (who could resist?), I must say this:
    Wil Wheaton, you are a real man.
    Only such a creature could, not only openly experience his full range of emotions, but be secure enough to share them with the same strangers who in part caused his unrest to begin with.
    Appreciate yourself, everyday, no matter what. You’re a rare breed.

  23. Hey Wil,
    I’ve read it before and I’ve read it again. It still pulls on the heartstrings, but not as much as the stuff about your dad when he had that infection. That stuff really got to me for my own set of reasons.
    About that poison oak, you really shouldn’t be scratching dude. That can’t be healthy, especially if your scratching enough to BLEED FROM IT!
    Laters,

  24. Great story Wil. I’m new to the site and I appreciate the reposting of this entry. It would be great to see a picture of little Ferris. You and Anne sound like a normal and loving couple. There’s enough dysfunction in Hollywood with divorces and people acting like divas (both men and women). It’s great to read that celebrities are just like everyday people. As far as re-runs are concerned, I was one of those people who spent the majority of my youth running around and playing outside so I didn’t get a chance to see an episode on its original air date. But then again, re-runs could be disconcerting when it comes to finding out the details of a storyline as in the case of Farscape re-runs on the Sci-Fi channel right now.

  25. Wil,
    It was new to me, so your little trick worked. Only you didn’t exactly cop out, I mean, you still had a new introduction. Writers do that all the time. So that post is just going into its second edition I guess.
    I’m pretty ill right now but I’m waiting for my boss to get back to finish some business (damn I’m a good employee). Without being able to do much work, today’s blog was the perfect thing to read for the past 30 mins. Thanks!
    – Ariel

  26. Today’s article is the best example of why I love your site Wil ~ thanks for the re-run! Your wife is the best. When are we gonna get another article out of her? (beg, beg, beg).
    Your arm get better once you stop scratching it and put some calomine lotion on it!
    🙂

  27. hey there wil,
    great story, great writing.
    its nice to hear about people doing good things and about people being in love. my lifes kinda crappy at the moment and stuff like this cheers me up.
    thanks mate,
    shaun
    uk

  28. *puppy!*
    I’m sitting in a computer lab at school and i really want to gurgle out *puppy* like most imbeciles do when they see a fuzzy lil puppppy. Somehow it seems inappropriate amongst psych stats. Ick.
    But yeah, Uncle Willy, your site is waycool. Found ya after the bloggies, and first it was hilarious that my star trek idol really was a geek, and now it’s the last blog i read every morning. Like dessert (as in usually i cheat and read it first).

  29. Awe! Wil that was such a sweet story! Thank you for posting it! I love animal rescue stories! You seem like such a nice, funny man, with a very good family. Keep up the good work on your site. I love coming on to your site and finding you have a new entrey! This entrey was especially nice!

  31. wil,
    i’ve been a faithful reader almost since the beginning and both times around i thought “save ferris” it was a very quality post. i really appreciate your humanity.
    the teacher who flunked you because you couldn’t write should see you now, when you write well, you fucking write well. thank you.
    i also dig cake.
    you are a retrocrush a girl can be proud of.
    brie

  37. Anne, you’re a goddess! My furbaby, Willow, and I salute you. 🙂
    Wil, you are the luckiest guy alive! But I think you know that already. 😉
    Emma

  40. *With Tears*
    That was soo cool, Anne is definatly a very cool woman- You are a Lucky Dude!!!
    Poison Oak- eck! try not to scratch it will spread into other areas, that would be bad- get some Aloe Vera!!!!!!

  45. KED: Look on soapbox to see meaning of “geo etc.”
    WHY ARE WE IN RERUNS??? DAMMIT Wil ..now I’m
    trying to listen for the ice-cream truck!!!!
    Don’t we pay you enough to think original
    thoughts ALL the time!!!(just funnin’ calm down!)
    Loved the story the FIRST time!!!

  47. WWDN is in reruns… RERUNS…
    What the hell hope does anyone else have when TV’s Wil Wheaton can’t come up with some weepy story about his favorite snotrag from his childhood and has to resort to FRARKING RERUNS?!
    Oh, Jeez, and a weepy one at that…
    Dude, WTF?

  48. ::reads story, rips still beating heart out of chest::
    Dammit, I need that organ.

  49. Oh come on people, we all know the bestest part of the entire post was:
    Funny aside: Ryan (12) and Nolan (10) were talking about how excited they were to get a grind rail, which they kept calling a “pole”. Nolan says to Ryan, “We TOTALLY have to get some grinding wax, Ryan!” Ryan replies, “Yeah, so we can wax our pole!”
    *guffaws*

  50. Very cool story, Wil…..It’s amazing, six years ago, all I had was my dog, Indiana Jones, the coolest Beagle alive outside of Snoopy !! Now six years later, I have two darling daughters, one great step-daughter and I am married to my hero.
    Incidentally, I got Indy from a police officer friend who rescued the dog from the freeway. My dog, also, had signs of being abused by a man. But he came around quickly. When I think of all the times I came home to find that he had gotten into my lipstick and found him sitting on my bed, looking angelic, with passion pink paws and lips….it makes me laugh.
    Indy had to go away though.
    Now we have a cat. Sierra. Cool cat. Lots of attitude.
    ( If my children do not stop fighting though, I may get rid of them….LOL )

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