I always vote. What’s happening in the present presidential race has become a circus. I will still vote for the candidate I believe will do the best job for us.
Every day I hear about new flubs or statements that stir up the pot. Not a day goes by when the polls tell me something new has happened to change the balance of the probable vote. I’ve watched the debates and cheered for my team. When my favorite does something dumb, I groan and hope for a better tomorrow.
Being a part of the Democratic process is not easy. It’s not supposed to be easy. Our country was formed in blood and sweat by our forefathers, with the specter of the hangman’s noose over their heads. The least we can do is see that their dream continues to flourish in the way they intended. You and I, with our vote, will help determine the course of America for the next thousand years — for good or bad.
I am trying to make Cleo understand how important it is to vote. She listens to every word I say. I am not sure how much of my argument, or my logical reasoning, is getting through to Cleo’s peanut brain. She looks like she’s listening. She never takes her eyes away from my face. She continues to stare at me like I was telling her the secrets of the universe. She hangs on my every word as I lay out my premise. I use the best logic I know.
“Cleo,” I say, “You must believe that one person, one cat, can change the world. I think it was Socrates … or Plato … or some other ancient fellow who said, ‘With a lever long enough, you can lift the world.’ Your single vote may seem unimpressive. Lumped in with millions of other votes, so what? If we do not vote, you and I will have the kind of government we deserve … and it may not be what we want.”
We live in a country where the majority decides. I believe most Americans make the right decisions. When they don’t make the right choices and decisions, and sometimes that happens, well, next time we can fix it.
All my logic should have been plain enough for Cleo. I was sure she understood she must vote. Then I thought, “I’m wasting my time. Cats don’t vote.” That didn’t seem right.
Any American creature intelligent to understand the issues should have the right to vote.
“Stop there,” some of my readers may say. “Cats don’t understand anything except having something to eat and a warm place to sleep.”
“Not so,” I retort. My cat, Cleo, is not an exceptional animal. There are lots of smart cats, dogs, porpoises, chimpanzees and elephants around who are smart enough to understand the issues. One chimp I heard about, had a sign language vocabulary larger than many people I know.
Like any creature, who wants to be a citizen, let’s give them a test for citizenship. If they pass, then all the rights of citizenship should apply. Along with that comes the right to vote. Now all I must do is convince our leaders to allow cats to take the test. Whether or not I succeed, I continue to say, everyone must vote … or suffer the terrible consequences of no longer having a Democracy. We may still have a president but not everyone knows the difference between a leader and a dictator until it’s too late.
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs.
