Hey, listeners, it's me, Julia. We're back for season three of Wiser Than Me, and we have so much more wisdom to share from the legendary older women who have joined me this season. I can't tell you the number of times when I'm having these conversations, I find myself scrambling for like a piece of paper or a napkin or whatever I can find in my desk to quickly jot down

some nugget that my guest is sharing in our conversation. I mean, you've probably had the same

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I'm sure I've mentioned here on Wiser than me that I have a dog named George, whom I love with

all my heart.

He is perfect.

Well, he's got inflammatory bowel disease, and he is allergic to everything,

and he barks way too much when somebody comes to the door. He barks so much, actually,

that it makes my Apple Watch give me a decibel alert thing, but still he is perfect. And coming for me,

that's saying something because, you know what, I don't have an ideal history with dogs at all.

First, our childhood dog, Pippi, a miniature dachshund, Pippi was run over by a Volkswagen bug, and I know that's kind of funny now,

but believe me at the time, it was a complete horror show. And then there's Jack. So Jack was a

rescue cavalier King Charles Spaniel that my first husband brought home unannounced one day when I was eight

months pregnant juggling a four-year-old, working a thousand hours a day on Seinfeld, and let's say

unprepared for the rigors of dog ownership. Yeah, I mean, my first husband was a nice man, but he

brought Jack home with no crate, no food, no dog dishes, and no plan.

And the first thing that Jack did was escape from the house and run as fast as he fucking could east, like perhaps towards Mecca or Jerusalem.

I have no idea, but Lord Almighty did he take off.

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