The Sage Connection

Mayoral Race Goes to the Dog

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It was Election Day last week; living in the state capitol pretty much guarantees some politician, issue or outrage will be present at any given time.

But there is another election that I will never forget and it took place in the tiny town of Sunol, California.

I may have mentioned before that Sunol was well known for its parties and pranksters. What I am going to share with you today is one that got away from us.

It happened, appropriately enough,  during the dog days of August in the 1980’s. Two of the town characters spent many an evening at the local saloon arguing about who had lived there the longest, who had the most friends, and if we had such a thing, which one of them would be elected mayor of Sunol.

There was also a young man present, who was always accompanied by his dog, Bosco, who suffered through many of these arguments, until one night he reached his boiling point. He stood up and announced, “My God, my dog could beat either one of you!” – and then he stormed out.

I happened to be there, too. The bartender looked at me and we said in unison, “Election Party.” And so it began.

The humans immediately began campaigning with flyers and free drinks while the dog promised a cat in every tree and a bone in every dish.  After a couple of weeks, the election was held. The bartender and I counted the votes and sure enough, the dog won, fair and square.

The party went on until the wee hours and then it was over…or so we thought.

Unknown to us, the editor of The Valley Times was at the party and the next day the paper ran a tongue-in-cheek piece titled “Sunol Mayoral Race Goes to the Dog.” We thought it was pretty cool that our party got a mention in the local newspaper until we found out that CNN had picked it up, and then we began to get a little nervous.

The young man who owned the dog immediately called a meeting and announced we now needed a council. He also said I had first choice of an office. I chose to be the minister of foreign affairs. He wasn’t too sure city councils had that position but I stood my ground and when the dust settled, I won. I thought I had grabbed the one title that would have absolutely nothing to do… and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

It seems lots of people watch CNN. It also seems if you don’t live in Sunol, you are considered a “foreigner.”

By the time the dog died, years later, I had been interviewed by French, German South African and American newspapers, The Star, The National Enquirer, PBS and  BBC radio programs and appeared on several television shows.

Every question asked, began with “What does the mayor think about…” and was answered with “The Mayor doesn’t think. He’s a dog you know.” I really don’t know why all those people bothered.

One of the first reporters that came calling confused the dog’s name with the bartender’s, and Bosco was forever know after that as Bosco Ramos.

With a first and surname, mail began to arrive. The Mayor had his own post office box, which we had to pay for, after the Postmistress got fed up with all the general mail deliveries. He even was invited to the Mayor’s  Conference that was held in Mexico City that year. I really fought to go to that one, as minister of foreign affairs, but his owner insisted the dog would be kept in quarantine the whole time so he was not allowed to attend.

Every time the hoopla died down something would set it off again. The last round started after the official Beijing newspaper editor wrote a column about the brave citizens in a small town in  America, that were so fed up with their politicians, they elected a dog mayor.

Then came the interview with a Los Angeles radio station that brought Hollywood to town. For two years I was paid to be a script consultant for a movie that never got made.

Best party ever.

Kathleen Anderson writes this column each week from her home in Olympia.  Contact her at  kathleen@theJOLTnews.com or post your comment below. 

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