One of the most-quoted lines from Republican veep nominee Sarah Palin’s acceptance speech is, “You know the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull?  Lipstick.”

Governor, I’ve worked and played with pit bulls, I know pitbulls, I am friends with pit bulls.  Governor, you’re no pitbull.

Most pitbulls I have met are sweet, non-partisan souls, who would rather lick a person into submission than lay teeth on them.  They can be hazardous around cats and squirrels, but unlike most hockey moms, can often be taught to leave smaller critters alone.  They bear fewer grudges than your average politico.  I haven’t known one to wear lipstick, but some have painted toenails.

I run a program, Paws to Read, where children can read to dogs, and two dog members are pitbulls:  the effervescent Egg and Monte the Magnificent.  Egg is cream colored, with big dark eyes and a nose made for kissing.  He is always ready to play, but easily settles down.  Monte is a huge brindled hunk.  Like the Rock, he is daunting to look at, but is a serene soul who is unfazed by hordes of small children.

Not any Joe Blow dog can join the program.  They have to be tested and certified therapy dogs, safe around people, obedient to their handler.  Therapy dogs are invited to hospitals, schools and libraries.

Hockey moms or beillergent governors?  Not so much.

I don’t have permission to put Egg’s or Monte’s picture up here, but here are some other pibbles I’ve been lucky enough to know:

Look at that smile!