Wrigley Is My Muse

Mostly True Memoirs

Wrigley is my muse


My dog hasn’t been eating.

I’ve been worried.

She is old, and not eating is a bad sign.

Last night I was cooking some chicken, and I gave her a bite.

She gobbled it down, so I gave her some more.

And some more.

She ate it all, and then she ate her bowl of kibble.

I think she’s playing me.

She’s faking that frail, old-lady act so I’ll prepare a fresh, home-cooked meal for her every day.

I guess I would do the same thing if I were in her place.

I’m impressed.

I’m taking notes so that I can follow her example in my own old age.

Wrigley is my muse.

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