Tracy Joy | Custom NW Illinois Newborn, Baby & Family Photography

After losing my father in law, 2 grandmother “in laws”, a cousin, Boo “kitty”… now my Spanky kitty is gone.

So in true TJ fashion… I must write down my feelings, in some hopes it will help the hurt diminish, or at least subside for a bit.

In 1997, at the fresh age of 19, I was living on my own (between room mates) in a crappy apartment… a touch lonely for home, and looking for a lil extra companion to shed some light in my world… I found Spanky, or I should say she found me.  I drove out to Indiana in my awesome 1979 green Pontiac Bonneville (with plush velvet seats, lol), after seeing an ad in the paper selling “Siamese kittens”.  My sister (living in WI) had just gottten a sia’mix and was in LOVE with her (Boo kitty, who also passed this year).   So I took the hour+ drive with my sister in tow to the boondocks of IN.

Drive up to this “not so lovely” home, walked into a “siamese kingdom”, lol.  Kim and I sat on the floor, trying to figure out how to pick one of the darling lil kittens… then up runs Spanky, into my lap.. and BITES ME! lol I knew she was mine! Fiesty, sassy, and probably no more than 2 lbs in weight… she was the runt.

The whole drive home, she purred… sitting on the “sweet” velvet bench seat in the Bonne’ between Kim and I.   When we got home, I figured she was some sort of miracle cat… she immediately went into her potty box (we had to pile up a staircase of books for her to even get in it, lol), and that was that… potty training Spanky was that simple!

We used to call her the “Alien”, or the “Beast”… Alien because her ears were sooo big, she looked like she just got off a space ship!!!

Beast, because this 2lb wonder would hide behind furniture, then tear out like a bat out of h*ll, her tail all fluffed like a bottle brush, and bite into your ankles.. we thought it was adorable! lol

She would sleep wrapped around our necks at night, almost suffocating us as she got older, lol… but her presence was always welcome, she was my pal and got me through a tough time in my life.  No matter how big Spank got, she always found her way back into one of our necks… purring away in her happiness and contentment.

She had this ridiculous idiosyncrasy….. she HATED whistling!  My dad, a rabid (yes, I mean rabid) baseball fan would always whistle when his team hit a run… and we found out one day, when Spanky snuck up behind him and bit his hand in a fury… she didn’t like whistling, not one bit! So of course.. this became a game of ours, lol.

I dont care if you think I’m nuts for saying all of this… but Spanky was my friend, when alot of other people seemed to walk right past (or over) me.

Sadly, when Rich and I bought our home in 2000, I had to leave her behind w/my parents… Rich is allergic to cats, and the older he gets, the more intense his allergies get and the less stable his asthma and lungs get… so I visited Spanky on a regular (almost daily) basis.  We actually tried it out, because it was too hard to separate myself from her…. but when we brought her home, she cried all night for Boo cat (by this time they were pretty inseparable, living w/each other for 2 years by now). So we brought her back to her Boo kitty, and lived in our home “kitty-less”.  I was sad, but I knew she was happy being with Boo than anyone/thing else in the world.

Now Spanky is a “one person cat”… she loves basically one person (or 2) and tends to shy away (or spit, haha) at anyone else. Typical Siamese.
Her new “Love’ was my mom… however, Spanky never forgot me!  Any visit I made to my parents house, she would come out of hiding (another Siamese trait), and brush on my legs til I picked her up… then she would drap herself across my shoulder to my back… ahhh, good friends always remember eachother, and never forget to say HI!

My heart aches… my lil furry friend is gone.

Rich and My first “baby”.

I never even got to say good bye to her… I will try to find some peace that she is with her beloved Boo kitty again (in kitty heaven as I tell my son and daughter)…. but still, I miss my baby and I just wanna feel her purr against my chest, or rub against my leg one more time…

She was 13 years old, not 14… and if I had it my way, she would have lived another quiet furry 5 years with me.  She was not only a cat… she was my cat, and I will remember her for always as the BEST cat I ever owned, ever knew, or ever met.  She may have been a one person cat… but I was HER one person, and I will never forget that.

RIP my Spankster… mama loves

I found the following on a fellow photographers blog… whom read it on another fellow photographers blog! Needless to say… it’s a perfect thought, and one that I found very “shareable”….

“I promise I’m not trying to be smart… I mean it literally. If I were you, the client. Well, a potential client actually. Here’s what might be on my mind.

“I want professional photos of my family, but my brother’s friend’s cousin’s daughter’s babysitter just got a really nice camera and she’ll take photos of us and give me a disk of all the images for only $90. She has a website, so she is legit.”

Here is an analogy for you:

I have bad hair. It’s too thick, it’s sorta curly, sorta wavy, frizzy and a bad ashy brown color. My brother’s friend’s cousin’s daughter’s babysitter Jackie will cut, weave and blow dry my hair for $90. My other option is going to Jeff the hair stylist at the salon across the street. He charges me $250 for a cut, weave and blow dry. I decide to try both.

I’m sitting in Jackie’s laundry room waiting for her to gather her things when I realize she’s going to wash my hair in the utility sink. Leaning over the sink kneeling on a folding chair proves a little difficult, she gets shampoo in my eye and water drips down my neck into my shirt. We go in the house and she sits me down in her dining room, her husband is sitting on the couch watching Nascar and drinking a 40. He leans forward to grab a bag of chips and I notice his butt-crack. I remind myself that Jackie only charges $90, she probably can’t afford to rent a station in a salon, so I divert my eyes and forgive her. She begins to cut my hair. It seems to be taking quite awhile. She looks a little nervous. I remember that she’s still fairly new to cutting hair. I rationalize that she’s still better than I’d be at it, after all. Plus, she has like 500 fans on her Facebook page, and that has to mean something, right? Jackie disappears to mix my color. She’s gone for a long time. I get nervous that she doesn’t know what she’s doing. What if she screws it up and my hair falls out? I start to wonder… maybe there is a REASON why she only charges $90. Is that the only way she can get clients? Then Jackie weaves a beautiful blond into my hair. I try to forget about my nerves and begin to get excited. A cut and color for only 90 bucks, I can’t wait to show everyone my hair! She finishes up the blow dry and I turn to the mirror to discover its really yellow and brassy. The cut is a uneven and boxy. I take a deep breath and calm myself down. Well, it looks better than it did before, I guess, and I only paid $90. The next day I meet up with some girlfriends for drinks. No one says anything about my hair, and I’m afraid to ask what they think because I know it just looks average, or maybe even bad. I feel disappointed. $90 seemed like such a great deal.

I suppose it’s only a deal if the value is greater than $90.

Two months pass and I find myself sitting at Jeff’s station in the salon across the street. The receptionist offers me a cold drink and the most recent issue of People magazine. Jeff comes over introduces himself and asks me what I’d like to accomplish today. We talk for a few minutes about the specific color of blond I’m looking for. He asks me questions about how I style my hair, what I like, what I don’t like, and tells me a little about whats in style right now. Jeff seems as excited as I am for my new look. I look around to see all the latest flat irons, blow dryers, collections of brushes and combs. Jeff rattles off instructions to his assistant while examining my hair and she’s back in a jiffy with 4 bowls of color. As Jeff begins to weave in and out of my hair with light blond and medium honey and chestnut brown I close my eyes and listen to the calming music on the satellite radio. I feel relaxed and confident. I trust him. I sit with my hair under the dryer and once again I’m offered a cold drink and a magazine. Jeff comes over to inspect the progression of the color. He exclaims how perfect it looks and brings me to the shampoo station. There is a big cushy leather recliner. I put my head back and he begins to wash. The shampoo smells like mint and lavender and he spends an extra few minutes on a mini scalp massage. Jeff dries and styles my hair with ease. When he’s finished he spins my chair around and I hardly recognize myself in the mirror. I look like I belong in a fashion magazine. The cut frames my face perfectly. It’s sassy with a hint of modern, just the right amount to suit my style. The color shimmers as I turn my head. It seems almost as if there are thousands of shades of blond intertwined throughout the locks of hair. It reminds me of what my hair looked like when I was little, after spending all summer in the sun. I feel proud. I meet up with some friends for lunch the next day. They must have commented on my hair 10 times. One of them demanded Jeff’s phone number and asked me how much he charged. “$250″, I told her. She replied, “Well it looks a-MAZE-ing, what a great deal.”

The $90 Jackie charged me wasn’t a great deal. The $250 Jeff charged me was. How is that possible? They both gave me a cut, weave and blow dry.

The difference was the experience and the quality. The $250 that Jeff charged me included a cold diet coke, and comfy chair, state of the art equipment and supplies, experience, knowledge, and a quality product. It included a feeling of pride and excitement that lasted until it was time to return for more. The $90 Jackie charged me included cheap dye, dull scissors, a wet shirt and a butt-crack.

When I thought about it later, I thought, well wouldn’t it be great to find someone who was somewhere in between, you know, someone who is amazing and cheap? But the problem is there is no such thing as in between. When someone offers quality, they have to charge for it, they have to cover the cost of running the business, continuing education, supplies, marketing, and they have to cut themselves a paycheck. Otherwise they are not running a business, they are the proud President of a Non-Profit Organization.

So if you find yourself presented with what seems like a “great deal” for your family photos, ask yourself if the $90 is worth an experience with Jackie. Personally, as a client, I’d rather pay $250 for an experience that feels priceless, than waste $90 on something sub par. Value is a magical thing. ”

Claire Alyse Blog originally
also from Jennifer Nace’s blog