ASHTON - Town council proclaimed Biscuit, a four-year-old golden retriever, honorary mayor for life Tuesday after records showed he attended 38 consecutive meetings, never interrupted except to sneeze, and lobbied effectively for expanded dog park hours by placing his head on officials' knees. The decision was met with both surprise and approval from the community.
"Biscuit listens more than some humans we've elected," said Clerk Lila Gant, who swore him in using a treat instead of a Bible. "He's been here every single meeting, and he’s never once barked or chewed up any documents."
The dog's platform included pothole awareness ("he feels every one"), transparent garbage-can policy, and mandatory water bowls at outdoor events. Fiscal hawks noted Biscuit has never proposed a tax increase, though he did once eat a proposed budget appendix. "He's not one for big plans," said Councilman Jameson, who added that Biscuit had already chewed through the city’s copy of the latest financial report.
Opposition candidate Hal Voss, a cat, declined to debate, which pollsters said cost him independent voters. "I don't think cats and dogs can really communicate on this level," Voss mewed during his campaign rally in the local park. "Besides, I've got better things to do than argue with a dog."
Ceremonial duties include ribbon chewings, parade leading at a leisurely pace, and vetoing proposals that smell like squirrels. Actual governance remains with humans, who consult Biscuit by presenting documents at nose level. "He's not the one making decisions," Councilwoman Sarah explained, "but he does have some input."
State law is unclear on canine officeholders. Attorney general issued guidance that honorary titles are fine "as long as someone scoops the lawn outside town hall." This led to a flurry of activity among residents who now find themselves tasked with Biscuit's personal hygiene.
Residents report improved civic engagement. Meeting attendance rose 40%, mostly among children and people who want to pet the mayor. "It’s like having a dog in charge," said local resident Jane Smith, who brought her daughter to one of the meetings. "She thinks it’s really cool."
Biscuit's first executive order: more tennis balls. Council approved unanimously. "He knows what he wants," said Councilman Jameson with a chuckle. "And apparently, that's lots and lots of tennis balls."
The city has since seen an uptick in dog-related activities, with local businesses reporting increased sales of dog toys and treats. Biscuit's presence has also sparked a new trend: people now bring their dogs to meetings, hoping for some extra attention from the honorary mayor.
Despite his newfound status, Biscuit remains a regular at the council meetings, often sitting in the front row and nodding along as officials discuss the city’s future. "He's a good boy," said Lila Gant with a smile, patting Biscuit on the head. "And he always knows when it's time for a break."
