It's an election year and I live in a house divided. My problem is the dog. We don't see eye to eye - literally as well as figuratively. Despite my petite and demure feline stature, I'm proud to say I most often look down on him from my imposing and influential perch on the TV stand. The same can be said for politics; I look down on his views from my elevated position on the correct side of right.
Our situation repeats itself in households throughout the country where "friendly" debates take place across breakfast and dinner tables. People have been known to fight like cats and dogs over politics; it isn't surprising the dog and I fight like people about the same subject - as well as any other topic you can possibly name.
He says kibble; I say bits. He labels the sky blue; I declare it a cerulean, mixed with the slightest hints of azure. I want to chew on the issues; he wants to chew on smelly sneakers. I say Wall Street; he says Sesame Street. And the list goes on.
When discussing life - and politics - we disagree on just about everything. This is remarkable, because we gather information from the same source - the place for accurate, timely and intelligent news regarding political polls, political speeches, political climates and anything else political in nature.
I'm talking, of course, about Facebook.
The social networking site is filled with high-quality political fodder - and that most definitely is not meant to be an oxymoron; although I've been tempted to call the dog a moron on a couple of occasions.
Name-calling aside, whenever our owners are away, the dog and I spend computer time researching the tough issues on Facebook. Well, either that or watching funny kitten videos on YouTube. We take it seriously. Not the kitten videos - the task of studying the political under and overtones on Facey.
Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction and this is the case online. You can't imagine the wacky and unbelievable things the candidates do and say - until you read about them via links posted on Facebook. I'd be tempted to question the accuracy of the stories distributed to millions without so much as a fact or spell-check, if it weren't for the source. Facebook and the Internet - there's truth with a capital T right there. You don't need opposable thumbs to recognize that.
Which brings us to the gigantic flaw in our political system. Not the prevalence of inaccurate information online. I'm talking about something even bigger: thumbs. This all-important digit is apparently a prerequisite for voting. The dog and I are thumb-less, sans thumbs - in a word: anti-opposable. Our four-pawed status denies us the inherent right given to bipeds everywhere.
The dog and I can disagree about the intricacies of politics until the cows come home, but none of it matters because we can't vote anyway. Neither can the cows, by the way, but you already knew that.
This is why, despite our differences, the dog and I have united. Yes, united. Together we are supporting the Pet's Right to Vote amendment. The doctrine advocates for Fidos and Fluffys by giving them an equal bark, meow or moo in the electoral process. If the amendment passes, the dog and I will head to the ballot box next election and try to figure out how to hold a pen with our paws.
I'm thinking of voting for the candidate named Undecided. The dog's promised his vote to some big yellow bird. Whether you are a Democat or Republican, I'm sure you can understand the inherent logic and relevance of those fine canine and feline choices. We think they are purrfect.
- Jill Pertler's column appears every Thursday in the Times. She can be reached at pertmn@qwest.net.
Our situation repeats itself in households throughout the country where "friendly" debates take place across breakfast and dinner tables. People have been known to fight like cats and dogs over politics; it isn't surprising the dog and I fight like people about the same subject - as well as any other topic you can possibly name.
He says kibble; I say bits. He labels the sky blue; I declare it a cerulean, mixed with the slightest hints of azure. I want to chew on the issues; he wants to chew on smelly sneakers. I say Wall Street; he says Sesame Street. And the list goes on.
When discussing life - and politics - we disagree on just about everything. This is remarkable, because we gather information from the same source - the place for accurate, timely and intelligent news regarding political polls, political speeches, political climates and anything else political in nature.
I'm talking, of course, about Facebook.
The social networking site is filled with high-quality political fodder - and that most definitely is not meant to be an oxymoron; although I've been tempted to call the dog a moron on a couple of occasions.
Name-calling aside, whenever our owners are away, the dog and I spend computer time researching the tough issues on Facebook. Well, either that or watching funny kitten videos on YouTube. We take it seriously. Not the kitten videos - the task of studying the political under and overtones on Facey.
Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction and this is the case online. You can't imagine the wacky and unbelievable things the candidates do and say - until you read about them via links posted on Facebook. I'd be tempted to question the accuracy of the stories distributed to millions without so much as a fact or spell-check, if it weren't for the source. Facebook and the Internet - there's truth with a capital T right there. You don't need opposable thumbs to recognize that.
Which brings us to the gigantic flaw in our political system. Not the prevalence of inaccurate information online. I'm talking about something even bigger: thumbs. This all-important digit is apparently a prerequisite for voting. The dog and I are thumb-less, sans thumbs - in a word: anti-opposable. Our four-pawed status denies us the inherent right given to bipeds everywhere.
The dog and I can disagree about the intricacies of politics until the cows come home, but none of it matters because we can't vote anyway. Neither can the cows, by the way, but you already knew that.
This is why, despite our differences, the dog and I have united. Yes, united. Together we are supporting the Pet's Right to Vote amendment. The doctrine advocates for Fidos and Fluffys by giving them an equal bark, meow or moo in the electoral process. If the amendment passes, the dog and I will head to the ballot box next election and try to figure out how to hold a pen with our paws.
I'm thinking of voting for the candidate named Undecided. The dog's promised his vote to some big yellow bird. Whether you are a Democat or Republican, I'm sure you can understand the inherent logic and relevance of those fine canine and feline choices. We think they are purrfect.
- Jill Pertler's column appears every Thursday in the Times. She can be reached at pertmn@qwest.net.
