Raimi has a pretty large fan base. Not because he's some great show dog, or because he rescued someone from a burning building or found Timmy in a well, or overcame an abusive puppyhood or has a disability he triumphed over (well, he's not very smart ... does that count?). People love Raimi because he's The Boy. They are drawn to his soft nature, his gentle eyes, oaf-like size, athletic ability, and the silly things he does because he's just not that smart. His key talents are but few; they include squirrel hunting, finding things to pee on, and turning in a million circles before lying down. They are all well and good but the one that accounts for almost every synapse of his brain is reserved for lavishing all his adoration, devotion, love, and affection on me. In return, hindered by my flawed and human limitations, I try to show him that although I am not deserving of such worship, he is worth every breath he takes.