So who's the leader of our pack?

Bao thinks he is. I think I am. I'm bigger than he is, and size counts. And I almost always get my way. Not always. But almost always.

Mind you, we never come to blows. Or bites. And when either of us compromises, we do so with good grace. We love one another. We live together. We're both old enough to know that neither one of us is perfect. We're happy, and that's enough.

Dogs don't elect their pack leader. One sniff, and they know. This guy has possibilities. That guy is definitely not it. No campaigns. No robot calls. No ballots. No hanging chads. Dogs just know, end of discussion.

That's how we used to do it, too. Not by sniffing bums, but by intuition and gut feeling. That's all finished, now. Instead of campaigners who kiss your baby and shake your hand and let you get a "feel" for them, we've got ads and pollsters and talking heads on CNN and FOX telling us what to think before we've even had a chance to think.

I comfort myself on the eve of this important election with the thought that either of the two main candidates will be better than the incumbent. (Actually, any of the candidates would be better than the incumbent) But I still think we could learn a lot from dogs.