On becoming a dog person and Portland elections

No, they aren't related topics, but I've been mulling over them both this morning, so here we go.

I was at the Bouffard house on Saturday, enjoying a post pedicure glass of wine, when Betsy asked me, "How's Gomez?" Gomez, Brandon's American Eskimo, and I have a somewhat tenuous relationship, although we are growing closer. He is an extremely high energy dog that likes to growl a lot. Brandon can tell that he likes me, because he gets excited when he hears my car pull up. However, I'm still learning to appreciate his canine affection. I come from a specifically anti-dog household. The Kelleys are cat people by nature. Dog ownership was never an option in terms of childhood pets because of a traumatic experience my mother had when she was young. When Gomez licks my armpit, I still have to translate that from "Ew, dog saliva!" to "Aw, doggy kiss!" He's a cute dog, all fluffy and white, and I have never known him to fart. As dogs go, he does have a lot going for him; I just have a steep learning curve.

After my rant about the dog, Betsy predicted that I would soon become a dog person. I scoffed at her idea, saying it would take a lot for me to come around to actually loving canines as their own independent beings. Walking around the grandiosely named Cedar Hills Crossing last night, and running into this little guy, made me realize that doggy love may come sooner than I thought. Forgive the crappy photo quality; I was having a difficult time getting him to sit still and pose (as much as dogs pose, right?) for the camera. I so wanted to take him home. I related this experience to Brandon as evidence of my growing love for canines, and his response was, "God, it would be hilarious if I had two girlfriends who came home with a puppy for me to deal with!" Luckily I look on pet (or at least dog) ownership as a major life decision, and I wasn't swayed by AWW ISN'T HE PRECIOUS?!

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I just visited the Multnomah County Elections Office to get a ballot because I haven't received one yet. In order to get another ballot, the man behind the counter asked me my date of birth and my last name. That's it. I didn't even need to show ID. I would like to know more about the ballot tabulation process, because that experience makes me nervous that our vote-by-mail system is kosher.