Politics in Minnesota have gone to the dogs.

The tiny village of Cormorant, located between Upper and Big Cormorant lakes just a short drive from where I grew up, has re-elected Duke, a 9-year-old Great Pyrenees, to his third term as mayor. News like this travels fast, and I learned about it on the Global News website, which no doubt had gleaned this gem of a story from the regional press in Minnesota. Photos of the beautiful white dog sporting his mayoral top hat can be found online; the dog has his own Facebook page.

Duke gets no actual salary, though it’s safe to say he’s been bribed with doggie treats. In fact, the celebrity canine won the mayor’s race when the townspeople actually bought the election. Villagers concocted the idea of using the mock mayor’s race as a way of raising money for the annual Cormorant Daze summer celebration. Each vote cost $1, and Duke won by a landslide, though two votes came in for a real person and Lassie got one vote.

The townspeople of this resort village claim Duke has done great things for Cormorant. He’s slowed down the traffic, pretty much by standing in the middle of the road whenever he wants. They’re not worried about Duke breaking any traffic laws. “He owns the street,” shop owner Connie Jahnke told the press.

Cormorant is a quaint little stop in Minnesota’s northern lake country. We dined at EllaMarie’s restaurant the last time I was home over Memorial Day and had a wonderful time. A local TV station happened to be doing a piece on the eatery’s popularity while we were there, so it seems like Cormorant is getting its fair share of publicity these days.

We also tried to track down the exact location of the legendary Pike’s Bay on Big Cormorant Lake, a prime party place that was torn down long ago. According to our father, a fist fight broke out every 15 minutes at Pike’s. He told us — out of earshot from Mom — about one particular fight he witnessed when there were “teeth bouncing on the floor like dice at a crops game.” He no doubt embellished the incident. All of this happened during Dad’s younger days, of course, before he got married and settled into family life.

Anyway, back to dogs and politics, Cormorant can’t lay claim to being the only town with a pet mayor. Stubbs the cat is the honorary mayor of Talkeetna, Alaska, where he spends his days lounging around the general store on Main Street, doing what cats do best — nothing.

Stubbs even survived an attempted assassination when a neighborhood dog roughed up the mayor pretty good. The top cat survived a fractured sternum and punctured lung, thanks to three hours of surgery at the local veterinarian’s office. Rumor has it Stubbs is working on tougher canine control laws.

Oakville in Ontario, Canada, also tapped its pet population for a mayor a while back. Hugo, a golden retriever, had yard signs posted around town during his campaign, urging residents to “Vote for the underdog.”

Hugo’s campaign manager was quoted in the local press, saying “he’s shaking paws and licking babies.” His political platform included more green space and four more leash-free parks.

In a year when most of us are so thoroughly disgusted with national politics, it’s nice to imagine these tiny little towns in the middle of nowhere, where life is so simple and serene and people still have a sense of humor.

 Features editor Lynnette Hintze may be reached at 758-4421 or by email at lhintze@dailyinterlake.com.