on voting

When Mom went to vote last month, I went along for the ride. And hopped out of the car after she went inside. Actually, I had to squeeze through the window she’d left partially open so I could breathe okay. It wasn’t easy getting out, but that’s always part of the fun.

Anyway, the human standing guard at the door told me dogs can’t vote. “Why not?” I asked.

She looked me over. “Because dogs are all about love, and that’s not what voting is about. It’s about choosing sides.”

“The opposite of love, you mean?” I asked.

She nodded. “Kind of.”

That was the craziest thing I’d ever heard, so I ran back to the car, squeezed through the window and took a nap until Mom came back.