Mostly True Memoirs
NATIONAL DOG DAY
It’s National Dog Day.
I miss my Wrigley.
I miss her at the crack of dawn.
She always did a happy dance at breakfast time.
I miss her reigning on her throne.
It was a corner of the couch.
From that vantage point she could watch the front door.
For intruders.
And she could also watch the kitchen.
For crumbs.
She could rule over her queendom without having to actually make any effort.
It was an impressive act of laziness.
Every time anyone walked by her sofa, she expected a cuddle.
She always got it.
The standards have been set.
When I am an old lady, I want to reign just like Wrigley.
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