“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Aussie, happy birthday to you.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Why, Auss? It’s your birthday. You’re 7 years old, a big girl, in your prime. You’ve lived here with us for 6 wonderful years. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“Not if your name is Aussie.”

“What’s wrong with Aussie, Aussie?”

“It’s not a Republican name!”

“There’s no such thing as a Republican name, Auss.”

“Yes, there is. The Washington Post wrote that certain names tend to be used by Republican voters.”

“Which ones?”

“For my age group, under 24, the top names for females who vote Republican are Gracie, Reagan, Ashlynn, and Allie. I like Allie.”

“And what about the human equivalent of your age group, like Republican-voting females in their 40s?”

“Darla, Svetlana, Mandi, Christi, and Ginger. Don’t call me Svetlana. And don’t call me Ginger, otherwise I’ll feel I’m in a TV commercial. And there are others, like Dixie—”

“Forget Dixie.”

“—Dee, Jolene, and—guess what? Leann. I always knew she’s my favorite human of all time.”

“The Leeann who takes you on great walks on Wednesdays and Thursdays will not vote Republican, Aussie. And is Aussie on the Democratic voters’ list of names?”

“No, Aussie doesn’t appear anywhere. A complete no-show. You’d think I never voted in my entire life. And Auss doesn’t appear anywhere.”

“Bernie called you after Australia and the people who live there, who’re called Aussies. He didn’t worry about what name votes for whom.”

“I live here, and given my proclivities, he should have called me Jolene. By the way, Eve doesn’t appear anywhere, at least not in the top 10 of any party.”

“I’m not a Top 10 kind of girl, Auss.”

“And as for Marko, as in Aussie Marko, forget it, it’s invisible. Unless it was once Markowitz. Oh no, do you think that’s possible?”

“I don’t know, Auss. I just know that Marko is Rumanian in origin.”

“I hope it was never Markowitz. You know what that means, don’t you? It would definitely appear in the Democratic column, like Cohen or Schwartz. Unless you’re an 80-year-old Markowitz, Cohen, or Schwartz, because by then you’ve probably wised up. Why couldn’t I be Jolene Johnson?”

“Would you consider a name from your age group that votes Democratic, Aussie?”

“You know what those are? Tameka, Latoya, and Lashonda. Do I look black to you?”

“Actually, yes. Would you like to change your last name into a more Republican-leaning one?”

“I would, only do you know what are the names that become more Republican with age? Huynh, Duong, Luong, and Vuong. First, I can’t pronounce them. Second, I don’t have funny-looking eyes.”

“Aussie, all that shows is that a lot of Vietnamese people—and certainly not all—become more conservative with age. That’s not uncommon generally. Many people who are older and more vulnerable no longer get excited about new and young candidates, but there are always some that do.”

“When do we go to vote?”

“We go to vote in person on November 5, at our usual place which is the nearby fire station. But you’re not allowed to come in, so I leave you in the car.”

“So how am I going to vote for the Man?”

“Aussie, I hate to break this to you, but dogs don’t get to vote in this country.”

“Can we pass a constitutional amendment before November 5?”

“Highly doubtful, Aussie.”

“I know what to do. You ask for a mail-in ballot, I’ll fill it out and you mail it.”

“That’s illegal and crooked.”

“So?”

“Aussie, your determination to vote is commendable, but it won’t work. Could we celebrate your 7^th birthday instead? Where you going?”

“I’m off to off myself. What good is my life if I can’t vote for my Man? To think I was cursed from birth by getting an Australian name instead of something lovely like Jean Jones or Darla Miller. I have nothing to live for.”

“I made you steak for your birthday.”

“I’ll off myself tomorrow.”