(The book “Never Say Neigh,” narrated by my horse Noah Vail and ghost written by yours truly, whom he calls “Madam,” offers timeless humor, joy, and an equine slant on the rest of us.)

A new neighbor named Rex stopped over to tell us he plans to launch a super, duper Halloween Election Spectacular. “What are you campaigning for?” I asked Rex, unaware of any empty schoolboard seats or miscellaneous vacancies on  the Nowthen City Council.

“To win,” he snapped.

“Win what?” I queried.”

“First place,” sniffed Rex, rolling his eyes as if to suggest I needed an interpreter. “You know, grab the brass ring. Keep your eye on the prize. Land a TV reality show.”

“So it’s public service you’re after?” I queried, ignoring the bull nose ring image. “What kind of campaign platform do you have in mind?”

“Warfare,” he barked. “Rumbles, riots, rancor. All those robust Rs go nicely with my name don’t you think? Imagine the rude yard signs my committee can whip up with a campaign promise like that.”

“So, Rex, what’s your strategy for lassoing this big win?” I persisted.

“Glad you asked son. I plan to begin by knocking off a few small terriers and a barn cat or two. Maybe impeach a field mouse or whack a pigeon with a National Enquirer expose´ about her citizenship. You know, just run of the mill boorish stuff you throw at those ding dongs who don’t like doing things your way.”

“Hmm… tell me what you plan to do if you get elected?” I persisted, with a growing sense of de-ja-vu.

“Run things,” intoned Rex with a dreamy expression in his eyes. “I might just run everything, Hollywood, health care, CNN. Maybe the NFL.”

“Now Rex, you don’t really think a plan like that can win votes do you?”

“Look around you,” said Rex.

“So how about dialing down the rhetoric and joining us for a game of gin rummy and a slice of apple pie” I suggested. “It won’t win you a TV reality show but we let everyone win from time to time.”