Bernie Sanders

Bernie's been with us for just over a month.  He was born in a barn in the mountains, son of a prize border collie and an unknown da. We picked him up on a january afternoon, along roads squeezed  narrow by snow.  I gave the farmer a symbolic euro and a bottle of red in exchange and brought him back to a bed next to the fire which he found too warm but to which he took without too much effort.   The snow followed him for a week or so and then retreated back up the mountains.
We called him Picolo Cane for want of another name and then Biden was inaugurated and there was Bernie Sanders sitting there with his mittens crossed and the dog, who sleeps likewise, took his name.