Someone’s been ridin’ my mule. She ain’t the same no more. She kicks up a fuss when I try to ride her. She kicks up a fuss when I take her into town. She’s always brayin’ at what I do. She’s never done that before.
Someone’s been ridin’ my mule in the rain. She’s wet when she should be dry.
Someone’s been ridin’ my mule. She don’t like listen’ to Jimmy Rogers no more. She’s likin’ a new kind of music. A kind of music I don’t understand.
Someone’s been ridin’ my mule when I’m not around. She don’t get lonesome for me no more.
Someone’s been ridin’ my mule and I don’t cotton to it. But ain’t much I can do if someone rides my mule when I’m away.
Someone’s been ridin’ my mule, so reckon I’ll get me a new mule.
Andrew Joyce 
Smart decision, Andrew. BTW, I am anxious to read about the Gloucester mystery but when I went to pull it up, the dang internet said it couldn’t find it. I do know Gloucester a bit, grew up not far away.
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I took that post down. It was a bit premature.
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Problem solved! The best way to get over an old mule is with a new one. 🙂
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I wholeheartedly agree with you.
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Terrific metaphor, Andrew. I’ve had several of my mules ridden and you’re right. Best get another.
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Metaphor? What metaphor? I’m talkin’ ’bout my old mule Betsy. Best mule I ever did have … until recently.
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Yeah till someone rode her.
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You poor thing…
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She was a good mule in her day. Just don’t know what got into her.
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Riding someone else’s mule and making her not appreciate her owner? Not good.
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No good at all.
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