The Life of a Spoiled Muse by Mimi Sue Brousseau

Hello Readers. My name is Mimi Sue. Some of you may have heard of me or seen my picture on my Mom’s Facebook page, but I thought it was time that you got to meet me. I live in a nice condo with my Mommy, Gerri. She’s an author. She pampers me and treats me like a princess, because, well, after all … I am her muse. At least that’s the way I see it. When she writes she sits in her recliner with her laptop, and I curl up right beside her. My brother, Milo, sits with us too, but he’s not as important as I am. Actually, he gets away with doing lots of naughty things because he hurt his back and, well, I think our Mommy feels sorry for him. He knows how to play that card. Yeah, he’s got Mom’s number all right and she lets him get away with murder. He lays there in the chair and snores. He generally just gets in the way, but he’s still better company than the cats. Yeah, we have two of them, Harry and Louise. Sometimes Harry hops up in our chair and demands Mom’s attention. I have actually seen him sit on the laptop. Can you imagine the nerve of him interrupting her creative flow? Then again, Harry is a cat, and cats do that. But Mom doesn’t seem to mind. I guess she likes him just fine, although I can’t see what she sees in that oversized fur ball.

Anyway, as I said, my Mommy is an author. She has written a few novels and I have been right by her side through it all. That’s why I think I certainly must be her muse. When she’s writing, I try to be very quiet and limit my barking to the occasional growl. That is of course unless our neighbor walks by with the Basset Hounds. When I see them, it’s all out barkfest! I must patrol and protect to keep all from intruding on my Mommy’s creativity.

Because of this, I’m very spoiled. I have my very own pink princess bed, but I would much rather curl up next to my Mommy. Otherwise, I spend my days being pampered, fed, walked and snuggling. How else would a muse be treated? Every once in a while, I ask for a treat or a scratch behind my ears, but for the most part, I simply look cute and provide inspiration.

Right now, I’m trying to convince my Mom to put me in one of her books. She tells me I’m cute, and I believe her because after all, I am her muse. So why wouldn’t she feature me in one of her novels? I know one day she will and when she does, the book will be a howling success.

Do you have a muse? Who is it? Do you pamper your muse and spoil them with snacks, treats and snuggling? Not that I’m looking for a new job or anything … but how well do you treat your muse?

Filed under: romance