The President of Dogs took his job seriously. He was not required to think — not his strong point. He had advisers for that. A sheepdog, a Queensland Blue, a Staffordshire and a Pit Bull who was very good at understanding relations with humans. He was the Minister for Human Relations, though they had to bar him from Dog Relations Committee meetings. A Poodle to explain his advisers to him.
They were better at thinking, but the President had something they lacked. Nobility. He looked noble; the bitches swooned, the dogs grovelled. He didn’t know why, it was just instinct.