Why does everyone hate Hillary? Well, not everyone. It’s like Otterpop. She doesn’t come off as warm and fuzzy. She barks, she has a stink eye. She can be manic when you put her to work, in her fervor to do the job. She doesn’t always do the right thing, she’s a dog. I like Otterpop. A few other people do. The other dogs do. But that’s about it.

Some nights we go to the dog park. It’s shady under the trees, so Ruby can stand there and sniff the air. The trees are on a little knoll, so she’s safe from marauding dogs up there and parks herself near a tree and wobbles in the breeze. Gustavo loves the dog park, he has friends! They’re dogs! They’re the dog people! They have laps! They run in circles! There are bushes to hide in! You can sneak through the hole in the fence to where the homeless guys sleep! It’s amazing!

Banksy has camaraderie at the dog park. There are some serious fetchers there. They fetch their balls over and over. Her kind of dogs. There are some not so serious fetchers there. Banksy ignores them, although every so often her ball shell cracks and she finds a kindred spirit friend and will play a little bit. I just like seeing her in large groups of dogs having a lovely time, since a lot of dogs make her nervous. So I try to take her at least a few times every week.

Otterpop, though. It’s a living hell for her. She hates the dog park, she can’t get over the other dogs and they don’t listen to her and they sniff her butt and at least half of them have no manners, the way that she thinks manners work. Young dogs today, no manners. It’s true at the dog park. You have to suck it up there, and know that the labradoodle is inappropriate, the shepherd mix with basset hound legs never comes when called, the black cattle dog pounces on dogs backs and Mugsy, don’t get me started on Mugsy. So when Otterpop comes she either has to stay completely under my power with an orange ball, or I put her on a leash.

Which sucks and is unfair and pretty hellish. But it’s a compromise, her nice time compromised for the greater good of everybody else. My dogs, and any other dog that hits her radar as someone she might decide to bite if they penetrate her fourth wall.

Otterpo’s smart, she’s capable. If I need to take a dog most anywhere, I’ll always pick Otterpop. She rides in a bag, walks perfectly on leash, doesn’t leave the scene, speaks human english, and is by far the most qualified dog I have for most situations. She just doesn’t come off as nice. She’s an enforcer. She doesn’t want you to hug her, or even pet her. Otterpop has personal space requests. But if I need to find a path through a mountain lion/pot grower forest, take a plane, ride a bus, move some horses around, walk in a city, drive a tractor, stay in a motel, she’s a no brainer. She’s brave and smart, competent and accomplished. She’s not really very cute, she’s stumpy and has weird legs. Her eyes bug out when she gets excited.

Banksy and Gustavo get a lot of attention. Gustavo’s really cute and friendly. He runs like a majestic unicorn squirrel, makes hamster noises when he loves something, which is most things, and comes back when I call him really fast. Unless he’s going for the hole in the fence to the where the homeless people sleep. Now that he’s found that portal to his parallel dream universe, all bets are off. Luckily people! And dogs playing! are pretty good and exciting and I’ve told him that portal is bad. Just those drunk guys, snoring, their booze, so amazing!

Banksy’s looks turn heads. Those eyes! The ears! Her fur! Her speed and grace! She does the things I tell her to do, sometimes I send her out around the porta potty or the soccer goal and have her do a turn or a lie down, people can’t believe the things they see. She’s like a dog genie. But Banksy isn’t easy, and her range of skills nowhere as wide as Otterpop’s. Banksy has a long ways to go to achieve capable and qualified, her quirks are large and vast.

People coo and cluck at Ruby, they love seeing her follow in my dogs and how we park her at the trees, old dogs make us happy and sad at the same time.

Not Otterpop. She’s with me. I’m with her. Her brain is engaged.

In Westeros, there’s no dog parks. I’d never want to live there. One thing there, forget dog parks, you can’t have dogs. They’d be eaten or slain by dragons or guys with sword for sport. You can have a pet wolf there, but even a giant, magic wolf with dangerous flesh tearing teeth has a pretty bad time of it. The hounds live chained up in the kennel til they need them to tear apart an intruder. No good for pet dogs. I’ve always been wishing the Underwoods would deflect from Netflix and get shipped to HBO to see how they’d do in there. One way ticket to Iceland. Get them some cloaks, hook them up with Peter Dinklage, who might look taller next to Kevin Spacey, bring the worlds of expensive tv add on packages together for Thrones of Card Games in the House. Would shifty, underhanded politicans from the specialized world of USA politics be able to survive things like knights with heavy swords, white walkers, or that torture prince bastard son whose Dad took over the Stark’s castle? I don’t know.

There’s a wall there, to keep the people from the North out, and their monsters. There’s a lot of lying and corruption and and not two but seven distinct political parties with a bunch of independent sub groups waving banners. The party with the biggest dragon looks like the one that’s going to win, and it’s run by a woman. Would Frank and Claire hook into burning witches at the stake? Sacrificing kids? Off with their heads? Move through all 7 kingdoms? The moral majority monk patrol? Would Sansa Stark learn about video surveillance and get a big black SUV to ride around in? Is Little Finger the same person as Doug Stamper?

Once I combined those two shows in my head, they got so much better. Forever united. I can sing either theme song during either credits. I have words. They involve dogs. I won’t share.

The only problem, they live in tv. Where Trump lives. He’s an amazing character, he’d look awesome as a king of one of the houses of Westeros with a fancy crown and brocade leggings, and would be hysterical battling Frank Underwood. He could yell about firing everybody and show how good that wall was working until John Snow and Stannis Baratheon got involved. It would be awesome. Made for binge watching for sure.

But it’s kind of like Otterpop. In the real world, she’s the dog you need. You put up with the perceived unpleasant, and trust her because she’s got the skills to do the job. So there you go. So many speeches and so many balloons. How many balloons was that, over 8 days? I won’t even google it. Too many. My god, the stupid balloon waste. Obamas and Bills and Bernies, all amazing. Serious inspirational speakers, all of them. A-list celebrities. Diverse audiences, just a way different vibe than the Republican week. Hillary is strong and capable and gets very shafted because she’s a woman. All her foibles, held up to a way bigger microscope than any man. Can you imagine if her main speakers were her five kids from her three different husbands? The grief the Clintons got during the Lewinsky fiasco? Trumps already been there and done that, he gets to slide along on the outspoken billionaire ticket.

Running the country? Trump wouldn’t last a day on any Iron Throne. I don’t know how Game of Cards ends, and I’m only on season 4 of Game of Thrones, we have to rent the dvd disks and I always fall asleep so it takes 2 weeks for me to watch each episode. We’re creeping through at a snails pace. But I know I’d rather not live in either of those realities, especially not Westeros. Washington DC looks like a close second. I like it here by the beach. One day I’ll get a new bike so I can ride down to the shore. People steal things, life isn’t perfect. I’ll still work on kindness. Anyone who is casting a vote for Trump, I don’t get it, not one bit. TV land.

Be nice, don’t bite. Qualified and capable, and keeping the Trump at bay.