On the eve of the Republican convention, Bao and I waited all night for the telephone call that never came.
Somehow, Bao had got it into his mind that John McCain would choose him for Vice President. I told him he was being silly. John McCain doesn't even like dogs. Also, I told him, I don't think Americans are ready to elect a dog as Vice President. After all, I explained, the Vice President is a heartbeat away from the Presidency. Like Dick Cheney.
Bao remained optimistic right to the end. It's his nature to be optimistic. He's a Shih Tzu.
Besides, Americans are ready for a change. Barack Obama says so. And a Shih Tzu Vice President would certainly represent a change.
For a start, we'd upstage the Swiss. That's gotta be worth something.
And would it really be so bad? Sitting for an hour or so with Bao each day might do our next President some good. To spend an hour each morning staring into those big, brown eyes that seek and give nothing except unconditional love would be like starting each day with a meditation. Better than jogging, and less strenuous. Meditating doesn't give you shin splints.
Moreover, Bao's reputation is spotless, impeccable. He doesn't shoot wolves from airplanes. He doesn't shoot his fellow hunters. He doesn't shoot things, period. He's never put a foot wrong, and he's got four of them. That's more than you can say for any of the current candidates.
Meanwhile, what do I do with the 50,000 Bao for Vice President T-shirts he ordered?