In Maine this morning, it is reported, dogs wait patiently for their owners to vote. Not so here in the Catskill Mountains of New York. At least not when it comes to a particular collie puppy who accompanies us to the sewage treatment plant where we cast our ballots.
We vote. He barks. He barks and he barks and he barks. He also adds a variety of distinctive collie noises.
“Is he always so, um–talkative?” asks one of the nice women working the polling station. I shrug innocently, you got me.
Then another one of them says, “I remember him from the primary!” I feign surprise at this. “Oh yes!” she adds. “He’s the only one who comes in here with a bell!”