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Show .1 EHih Enappill (Continued From Page 5) Sixteen years ago I went out on my own and bought Josephine. When Irving saw her he went into shock. When he found his voice, it came out loud and clear. Either she goes or I go! Anyone who knows us, or has read Every Night, Josephine!, knows that, after the first few weeks, Irving would have given me away sooner than Josephine. As the years passed, and she became an integral part of our lives, Irving stated that, when the time came and she went to Dog Heaven, we would NEVER have another dog. We loved Josephine too much. The loss would take too much out of him. He never would allow himself to get attached to another. JOSEPHINE DIED January 6th, 1970 , . . four days before her sixteenth birthday. The following day, a friend brought me a BOY toy poodle two-month-o- ld Joseph Ian. I called Irving at the office and told him. Irving broke all track records with a rubber dashing home chew toy for Joseph Ian. When we were married and he placed the ring on my finger and kissed me, I was positive we would live happily ever after. But in this world, NO ONE lives happily ever after. With children we have the and the terhappy times rible moments when they are ill. Their misery becomes our misery. As we mature, we face the fact that our own parents cannot live forever. We find friendships do not always last. There is good luck and bad luck. There are highs and lows. But we learn that life means survival. And marriage means surviv- . . ven afflicii 7 . ... al An TOGETHER. equal amount of give and take on both sides. IN THE BEGINNING I was a struggling actress and Irving was a television producer. Sounds cute and homey and glamorous, doesnt it? You want to know how thrilling it was for him to listen to how many parts I didnt get? How all the producers on and off Broadway were united in a conspiracy to keep me from becoming a star? And do you realize that this marvelous man actually sat and ate his peanut butter sandwich for dinner and listened and commiserated? (No, he isnt a nut for peanut butter but I hadnt learned to make the steak yet and he liked peanut butter better than baloney that ... year.) Ive stated, its not a street. As his wife, I also went along with his career. (After all, HIS career clothed and fed us . . . mine was kind of a sadistic hobby.) Ah the memories of Irvings early caBut, as one-wa- group wasnt drinking Dr. Pepper. Martinis were the order of the evening. Now a martini can be liquid it can also be total disgold aster, if its the first martini in your life and you have three within an hour. THERE ARE MOMENTS in my life when I fancy myself as a female James Bond; daring invincible. Unfortunately this was one of them. So when they ordered the FOURTH round, I nodded cheerfully. I vaguely recall taking one sip from then on Irving had to carry the charm alone. With an actress sense of timing, I managed a graceful and steady exit to the ladies room, where for one hour I lay inert with an anxious matron hovering and a cold towel on my head. And then I wrote . . . y ... reer in television. IT BEGAN WHEN he created Talent Scouts. There were dinners with the men from the advertising agencies. And who can forget that night when I almost died at the Black Angus Steak House? We had gone there with a group after a dress rehearsal of one of Irvings new shows. The rehearsal hadnt ! gone too well . . . (Translation) We had to be extra nice to the agency men. Laugh at their jokes . . . drink the same drinks they drank. (I still cant figure out why people feel chummier if you drink what THEY drink.) Irving had an ulcer. That meant I had to do the drinking And this for both of us ... NOVEMBER, 1963. My first book, Every Night, Josephine! The story of Irving and me and Josephine. The poodle who owned us. Our lives suddenly changed. No more advertising men. When we went to a cocktail party, no one insisted The Mansfields with their late poodle, which was immortalized in Jacquelines hook, Every Night, we drink martinis. We were suddenly surrounded by every dog lover in the place, asking us advice in the care and feeding of their dog. Suddenly we had become the Dr. Spock of the poodle world. the sleep cure? (From Dr. Spock we had switched to Dr. My second Valley of the Dolls. Our lives changed even more. When we walked into a cocktail party we were singled out by every insomniac in the place. I fall asleep as soon as my head h'ts the pillow. But two hours later Im wide awake. Should I take a red doll or a yellow one? or . . . Im a compulsive eater do you really recommend The Love Machine. Robin Stone, the protagonist of the book, has a few love affairs that are a bit unconventional. One affair is with a transsexual. Another i a brutal encounter with a prostitute. 1966. February, book, ... Freud.) My third book, 1969. MAY, Now things REALLY cocktail changed. We Forget were nn-t- es invited Partrc f'e-- e TV,oVo . WF . . Wife-Swappin- Orgies suddenly g . . . and even a movement to v- -pc Dfn Mother and Fanew underground Rut we decline all uttip gratuities. ,1C ther of tv, to T a nE the simple life and go to the same neighborly pent- house cocktail parties where friends stare at Irving and whisper, Do you think hes REALLY like Robin Stone? . . . How do they manage to STAY . . . And they actulook ally happy . . . theyre married? even smiling. And I still smile . . . even when I see young kids shouting, MarMarriage is obsolete. riage is an unnatural state. Marriage cannot survive. We have lived through Irvings television shows, life in Beveriv Hills, Valley of the Dolls The Love Machine . . . and through it all our marriage h? not only survived . . . jt v,pc trnmnbed! (rrr'rV'bl F Enterprises, Inc.) 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