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All the Presidents' Pets
A cat named Miss Pussy. A virulently racist parrot. A pair of possums, which were later eaten for dinner. All the best—and worst!—presidential pets in American history, ranked.
After four long years, we finally have a new president and, more than chiefly, new presidential pets. Ordinarily the thrill of pets arriving at the White House is tempered by the sting of former presidential pets leaving the White House, but this year is dissimilar: Donald Trump is the first president in more than 100 years not to have a pet of any kind, and so we tin say farewell to his rotten administration without stray sympathy for whatsoever blameless dogs, cats, or possums getting evicted alongside their captors.
This also ways that the incoming presidential pets—the Bidens take 2 German shepherds and a cat, the sometime two of which arrived to the White House this week to great fanfare—won't be able to rely on the approachable presidential pets for advice or support during the transfer of ability. And so to aid the new national mascots notice their footing, Slate has decided to break what many regard as the nearly important commandment in journalism ("all presidential pets are equally practiced and any announcer who says otherwise should exist summarily killed") and firmly grip Washington's most unsafe tertiary runway, ranking the presidents' pets from worst to best. As you'll see, some of them were terrible. Except in cases where particular pets were double acts (east.thousand., Benjamin Harrison's possums, Mr. Protection and Mr. Reciprocity), we're only ranking ane pet per assistants, with preference given to animals that made enough of an impression that there are contemporary accounts of their exploits.
44. A Agglomeration of Unnamed Silkworms Belonging to Louisa Adams
John Quincy Adams didn't seem to have any pets in the White Business firm—unless you believe the probably apocryphal story that he briefly kept a pair of alligators in the Due east Room—but his wife kept silkworms. According to i of Adams' diary entries, she had several hundred that she raised herself for their silk. Silk is overnice, but let's face up it: Silkworms make terrible, terrible pets. They are, after all, worms. Worms! WORMS! (Technically, they're caterpillars. Caterpillars! CATERPILLARS!) These are the worst presidential pets in the history of the U.s. of America.
43. James Grand. Polk's Absence of Pets
James K. Polk didn't have any pets, which kind of sucks, but at least he didn't bring a bunch of goddamned worms with him.
42. Donald Trump'south Metaphorical Dog
Donald Trump had no time for anyone only Donald Trump, just if he had a dog, that canis familiaris would rank very highly on this listing simply because of the sympathy vote. Trump'due south tweets are no longer with u.s., but when he was still on Twitter, he was always tweeting things like this:
Robert Pattinson should non accept dorsum Kristen Stewart. She cheated on him like a dog & volition do information technology once more—merely watch. He can do much better!
Manus Romney had his take a chance to vanquish a failed president but he choked like a domestic dog. Now he calls me racist—simply I am least racist person there is.
Ted Cruz lifts the Bible high into the air and and then lies like a domestic dog—over and over once again! The Evangelicals in S.C. figured him out & said no!
Wow, great news! I hear @EWErickson of Red Country was fired like a dog. If y'all read his tweets, y'all'll empathise why. Merely doesn't accept It!
Michael Wolff is a full loser who fabricated upwardly stories in order to sell this actually deadening and untruthful volume. He used Sloppy Steve Bannon, who cried when he got fired and begged for his chore. Now Sloppy Steve has been dumped similar a dog by well-nigh everyone. Besides bad!
Lyin' Brian Williams of MSDNC, a Concast Scam Visitor, wouldn't know the truth if it was nailed to his wooden forehead. Remember when he lied nearly his bravery in a helicopter? Totally fabricated up story. He's a true dummy who was thrown off Network News like a dog. Stay tuned!
Dogs, according to the former president, are known for adulterous, choking, and lying, which is why they deserve to be fired, dumped, and even thrown off network news. If Trump's domestic dog actually existed, information technology would doubtless deserve our sympathy and probably an anonymous call to the ASPCA. Only since it'south only a metaphor, 42nd place.
41. Sukey, William Henry Harrison'southward Moo-cow
William Henry Harrison only lasted a month in office earlier dying, which didn't get out a lot of fourth dimension for his pets to make an impression. But where presidents fail, apocryphal storytellers succeed, and over the years, two pets accept get associated with Harrison: a goat named either Old Whiskers or His Whiskers, and a Durham moo-cow named Sukey. William Henry Harrison may have had a pet goat, but if then, I couldn't find it in contemporary sources, and information technology's well documented that his grandson, Benjamin Harrison, who was also a president, had a pet caprine animal named Old Whiskers. As for "Sukey," she appears in print for the showtime fourth dimension in the Washington Evening Star on March 4, 1889, most 50 years after Harrison's expiry, in a story credited to "a native and old resident of Washington." The story is not actually about the cow; it's about Harrison buying a cow from a Maryland drover who was unaware he was talking to the president. So how did this sketchily sourced moo-cow outrank Louisa Adams' silkworms, who accept the advantage of definitely existing, and James K. Polk's absence of pets or Donald Trump'southward metaphorical dog, who have the reward of definitely not existing? Uncomplicated: Although William Henry Harrison, the president of the Us, has no verifiable connection to whatever pet cows, a unlike William Henry Harrison, an unrelated British author, published a satirical poem in 1831 entitled "The Cow Doc," which included this engraving of a sick cow.
That is a very light-headed engraving that would never accept resurfaced in 2021 without Harrison'south counterfeit cow, and information technology's inspiring to encounter two William Henry Harrisons working together. That's plenty to move Sukey upward to 41st place.
40. Loretta, William McKinley's Parrot
Like presidents themselves, presidential pets have had some of their crude edges sanded off in the interests of national mythmaking, and no pet benefited more than from this than Loretta, William McKinley's parrot. Modern accounts say that McKinley'due south bird, a Mexican double yellowish-headed parrot, was named "Washington Mail," could whistle "Yankee Doodle Dandy," and had a addiction of proverb "Look at all the pretty girls!" when women neared his cage. Catcalling aside, this "Washington Postal service" seems like a reasonably charming parrot who deserves to be at least a footnote in American history.
Looking back at contemporary references to McKinley'due south parrot, yet, reveals no signs of a bird named "Washington Post," and several accounts of a different Mexican double yellow-headed parrot named Loretta, who lived at the White Firm during the McKinley administration. This bird could likewise reportedly whistle "Yankee Putter Dandy," but her signature trick was much less charming, per a 1904 written report from the Boston Earth:
Whenever any of the colored assistance came into the room, the parrot would sing out, "All C‑‑ns Look Akin to Me," and this tickled Mr. McKinley immensely.
It would be quite a coincidence if McKinley had two Mexican double xanthous-headed parrots, both of whom could whistle "Yankee Doodle Peachy," only i of whom was a virulent racist. Occam's razor says that Loretta and Washington Post were the same bird, which would hateful that subsequent efforts to transform Loretta from a minstrelsy enthusiast into a lovable pet—going so far equally to change her proper name!—are function of a contemptuous public relations maneuver known every bit the "Reverse Milkshake Parrot."
39. Vulcan, George Washington's Dog
George Washington had several dogs with memorable names—Sweetlips, Drunk, Tippler, and Tipsy, to name a few—merely only one dog who stole an unabridged ham, making Vulcan the obvious leader of the pack. An account of Vulcan'south heist is found in the memoirs of George Washington'southward son George Washington Parke Custis.
Information technology happened that upon a large company sitting downwards to dinner at Mount Vernon i twenty-four hours, the lady of the mansion (my grandmother) discovered that the ham, the pride of every Virginia housewife's table, was missing from its accustomed mail service of award. Upon questioning Frank, the butler, this portly, and at the same fourth dimension almost polite and achieved of all butlers, observed that a ham, yes, a very fine ham, had been prepared agreeably to the Madam's orders, but lo and behold! who should come into the kitchen, while the savory ham was smoking in its dish, but onetime Vulcan, the hound, and without more than ado fastened his fangs into it; and although they of the kitchen had stood to such arms as they could become, and had fought the old spoiler desperately, notwithstanding Vulcan had finally triumphed, and bore off the prize, ay, "cleanly, nether the keeper'due south nose." The lady by no means relished the loss of a dish which formed the pride of her table, and uttered some remarks by no ways favorable to old Vulcan, or indeed to dogs in full general, while the chief, having heard the story, communicated it to his guests, and, with them, laughed heartily at the exploit of the stag-hound.
So why is Vulcan, by all accounts an splendid ham thief, in the cellars of the presidential pet rankings? First, technically Vulcan did not steal this ham while George Washington was president. More importantly, Washington himself was a existent bounder about other people's dogs, writing in a 1792 letter of the alphabet to his overseer at Mount Vernon that "if any negro presumes under any pretence whatsoever to preserve, or bring one into the family, that he shall exist severely punished, and the dog hanged," then going on to opine that "it is not for whatsoever skilful purpose Negroes raise, or proceed dogs; but to assist them in their night robberies." Information technology'south non off-white to punish Vulcan in the official presidential pet rankings because of Washington's discrimination, but it too isn't fair to hang a dog because information technology belongs to a person y'all take enslaved. So shed no tears for Vulcan, who at least got to swallow an unabridged ham.
38. Andrew Johnson's Mice
Andrew Johnson did not arrive at the White House with any pets, nor did he officially acquire any while he stayed there. Yet, his private secretary, Westward. G. Moore, kept a diary in which he recorded a petlike incident: I weekend afternoon during Johnson'south impeachment, he found the president marveling over a basket of flour he'd shipped from a mill his family endemic. Moore observed that some of the mice infesting the White House at that time had gotten into the flour; Johnson told him that he was planning to leave flour and water out for them going forward. Johnson scholars will not be surprised to hear that these were white mice.
37. King, Ronald Reagan'due south Canis familiaris
Male monarch, a Cavalier Male monarch Charles spaniel belonging to Ronald Reagan, was famously desperately behaved, constantly barking and pulling Nancy Reagan all over the White House lawn. Yous can see him in action at 6:x in this video—and you can as well meet why people joked that the Reagans preferred not to train Rex, because he was ever dragging them away from reporters before they could face any questions.
Rex apparently ended up at the White House because Nancy Reagan liked William F. Buckley's domestic dog and Ronald tracked down one of its siblings and gave it to her as a present. Male monarch lived in a custom-built doghouse designed past Theo Hayes—the wife of Rutherford B. Hayes' smashing-great-grandson—which was decked out with parquet floors, curtains, and a framed photograph of the Reagans on the wall. Perfectly ghastly.
36. Chester A. Arthur'southward Pet Rabbit
Chester A. Arthur is rumored to have had a pet rabbit, but I couldn't find a source for this story and doubtable it's yet another example of pro-rabbit disinformation from Big Rabbit. 36th identify.
35. Mason and Dixon, Millard Fillmore's Ponies
Millard Fillmore reportedly had two ponies named Mason and Dixon. Unfortunately, those two ponies appear to have vanished from history without leaving much of an impression, except for their names. A clever proper noun volition only get y'all and then far, and this is exactly how far a clever name will get two ponies in a ranking of the presidents' pets: 35th place.
34. Mr. Protection and Mr. Reciprocity, Benjamin Harrison's Possums
A clever proper name will only get y'all so far, just if you lot combine that clever name with existence a dang possum, yous tin can get a little farther. In 1892, Benjamin Harrison expressed a desire for some "possums equally soon every bit frost sets in," and soon thereafter, a box was delivered to the White House containing two live possums, with a notation reading: "To the president. Two citizens of Maryland—Mr. Protection and Mr. Reciprocity—with the compliments of John R. [Howlett], 1411 N Street, Northwest." Sending someone a box containing two live possums is not necessarily a friendly gesture, simply Protection and Reciprocity were entrada slogans of the Harrison-Reid ticket, so Howlett probably meant well.
Although they show upwards on most lists of presidential pets, occasionally accompanied past a story about Harrison giving them to his grandkids, Mr. Protection and Mr. Reciprocity probably didn't fare very well at the White Firm: 1 story about their arrival was headlined "'Possums for Harrison's Sunday Dinner." As the Library of Congress has noted, a paper in Kentucky wrote an "Obama'south Hip-Hop BBQ Didn't Create Jobs"–type article arguing that Harrison was pandering to Black voters—possum was then a staple in Black southern cuisine—writing that "when the president orders 'possum and sugariness potatoes, every negro voter is expected to forget all grounds of disaffection and come cheerfully to the support of the ticket." Withal, while Mr. Protection and Mr. Reciprocity most likely received neither protection nor reciprocity from Harrison, they had very clever names; plus, they were possums. Consume their dust, Mason and Dixon!
33. Franklin Pierce'south Teacup Dogs
The teacup dogs belonging to Franklin Pierce are a existent cursed frogurt-type situation. Brought to the United States from Japan past the Perry Expedition, they were probably Japanese Chins. There's a detailed account of 1 of them, named Bonin, who was "a little beast with a head like a bird with a edgeless beak, optics large and popped, and a body like a new-born puppy of the smallest kind … prettily marked with a band of white about his otherwise jet-black body." (That's practiced!) The description was written by Jefferson Davis' 2d wife, Varina; Pierce gave the dog to his friend, the future president of the Confederacy, as a souvenir. (That'southward bad!) Bonin became, in Varina's words, "the scourge of the servants and of the family unit" for being e'er underfoot. (That'south adept!) Over the years, all the same, he reportedly became less annoying. (That's bad!) In 1861, Davis left the dog in Washington in order to establish a new nation built on slavery (that's really bad, but peradventure OK for the domestic dog), and sometime soon thereafter, he was "fed … with so many dainties that he died of indigestion." (Can I go now?) It's unclear what became of the other dogs, but if the almost notable matter any of them achieved was "being given equally a gift to Jefferson Fucking Davis," how dandy could they have been, really?
32. Millie, George H.W. Bush's Dog
Millie, an English springer spaniel belonging to the Bushes, was 1 of the few presidential pets to write a bestselling memoir almost her time in the White Firm. What's more than, she was one of the only vice presidential pets to write a bestselling memoir about her time at Number One Observatory Circle: She joined the Bushes on Feb. thirteen, 1987. That means she was with the Bushes when Reagan gave his Oval Office address about the Iran-Contra affair in May. She was with them during the congressional hearings that jump and summer. She was with them when Bush-league gave his notorious interview to the Washington Post challenge he was "not in the loop." This dog was literally in the room where it happened. Simply anyone who bought Millie's Book expecting juicy details well-nigh the debacle was disappointed. Although Millie admitted that she was usually nowadays at Bush's morning time briefings, she declined to provide the American public with the full bookkeeping of their government's perfidy that they were owed, and instead wrote almost chasing squirrels, bragged about her friendship with Henry Kissinger, and recounted in loving particular the story of the time she met Benji. We deserve better from our presidential pets.
31. Barney and Miss Beazley, George W. Bush-league's Dogs
Barney and Miss Beazley, Scottish terriers belonging to George W. Bush, were more interested in show concern than politics, starring in a series of short films. The highlight was A Very Beazley Christmas, a canine riff on All About Eve with a holiday theme:
Barney and Miss Beazley's dedication to the craft of acting was unparalleled in the history of presidential pets, but their love of Italian neorealism led them to work primarily with nonprofessional actors from the Bush administration. That wearisome backdrop fabricated their ain performances stand out, but it also kept them from growing as artists over time, and every bit a result, modern critical reevaluations of their oeuvre have not been kind. What heights might these dogs have soared to if they'd collaborated with artists worthy of their talents—an Uggie, say, or even a Cosmo—instead of their comfortable clique of pasty war criminals? Sadly, we'll never know.
xxx. Gabby, Dwight Eisenhower's Parakeet
Gabby, a blue parakeet kept by the Eisenhowers, was chiefly notable for two things: not talking—the joke was he'd only communicate through White House spokespeople—and being buried under an ambrosial minigravestone on the White House lawn. Mediocre!
29. Dick, Thomas Jefferson'south Mockingbird
Thomas Jefferson was the showtime president to declare his independence from the tyranny of cats and dogs, choosing instead to go along mockingbirds. His favorite lived in a cage in his cabinet and had patently been trained to take food from Jefferson'due south lips, which is one of the grossest things you can practise with a bird and speaks well of Dick's quality as a pet. Margaret Bayard Smith, who knew Jefferson socially, gave the following business relationship of Dick's exploits in an 1843 commodity for Godey's Lady's Book:
On Mr. Jefferson's return from his daily ride, it was his habit to accept an hour's serenity on a couch in his chamber—earlier he did and so, he would get into his chiffonier, open the cage, telephone call his bird, who would follow, hopping up the stairs afterward him, so placing itself on the head or feet of his burrow, would regale and soothe him with its sweetest and most varied strains. How he loved this bird!
How he loved that bird!
28. Johnny Ty, Julia Tyler's Canary
John Tyler was the kickoff president to lose a married woman while in part and also the starting time president to remarry in office. His new helpmate, Julia Gardiner Tyler, was 30 years his junior and brought a pet canary named "Johnny Ty" with her to the White House. The canary had a slightly scandalous pedigree: Julia acquired it during an 1841 trip to Europe, where she'd been shipped off by her parents afterwards causing a high-gild scandal at nineteen by appearing in an advertisement for a department store. Fast living and fast canaries: That was Julia Tyler, apparently. Johnny Ty's about notable take a chance came later the Tyler presidency, when Julia attempted to observe the bird a mate. She apparently misjudged the sex of either Johnny Ty or his mate; the ii birds wanted nothing to do with each other, and Johnny Ty died of a centre assail shortly thereafter.
27. Juno, John Adams' Dog
John Adams was not simply the first president to live in the White House and the first president to bring pets to the White House, just he went on to become the first president to be portrayed past Paul Giamatti in an HBO miniseries. Wow! A presidency that exceptional naturally included some exceptional pets, most notably a mixed-brood dog named Juno. Abigail Adams, in an 1811 letter to her granddaughter, gave the following account of Juno in her former age:
As if you love me, proverbially, yous must love my dog, you will be glad to acquire that Juno yet lives, although like her mistress she is grayness with age. She appears to enjoy life and to exist grateful for the attention paid her. She wags her tail and announces a visitor whenever ane appears.
In that location'south less tape of the life of the Adams' other dog, Satan, who also accompanied the couple to the White House, but his proper noun suggests he was not known for his good beliefs. Isn't that always the way?
26. Pauline Wayne, William Howard Taft's Cow
Taft'south daughter had a domestic dog named Caruso, a gift from Enrico Caruso, who was evidently concerned that cows didn't make skillful pets. That's nonsense. Pauline Wayne, who arrived at the White House in 1910 afterwards a previous cow, Mooly Wooly, unexpectedly died, was not only a beloved pet just produced 7.5 gallons of milk daily. Unfortunately, the anti-cow forces of Enrico Caruso ultimately triumphed: Pauline Wayne was the last cow to live at the White House.
25. Sebastian, James Monroe's Dog
A mysterious effigy in American history, "Sebastian," if that was indeed his real name, was a Siberian croaking said to belong to James Monroe. According to the Presidential Pet Museum, however, "sources are scarce and most of the sources that exercise reference the animal besides list Maria Monroe as James Monroe's wife, not his daughter, and thus are likely untrustworthy." In other words, Sebastian was almost certainly a Russian spy, much similar the dogs in the 2001 flick Cats & Dogs, except with onetime-timey technology, plus Russian. Молодец, Sebastian!
24. Rob Roy, Calvin Coolidge's Domestic dog
The Coolidges had a lot of pets, although non all of them stuck effectually for very long. At various points during his administration, they owned: 12 dissimilar dogs, 2 raccoons, a donkey, vii dissimilar birds (1 of whom was a goose), a pigmy hippo, a deport, a bobcat, two house cats, two lion cubs named Tax Reduction and Budget Agency, and 13 ducklings. (Almost of the exotic pets concluded up in zoos pretty quickly.) The most famous resident of the Coolidge menagerie was Rob Roy, a white collie who ended up immortalized in Howard Chandler Christy's portrait of Grace Coolidge.
Coolidge described Rob Roy in his autobiography as "a stately admirer of great courage and fidelity," a fine tribute to a skillful dog, just his attempt to draw his grief at Rob Roy's death was less successful:
His especial delight was to ride with me in the boats when I went fishing. So although I knew he would bark with joy as the grim boatman ferried him beyond the Styx, yet his going left me lonely on the hither shore.
Just say you miss your dog, Calvin Coolidge! Jeez!
23. Poll, Andrew Jackson'due south Parrot
Andrew Jackson distinguished himself as one of the The states' near genocidal presidents, despite potent competition, which makes him one of history's greatest villains. His pet parrot, Poll however, outlived him, and then made a decent effort to ruin his funeral, which makes her ane of history'southward greatest heroes. The Rev. William Menefee Norment, who at the age of 15 attended Jackson's funeral, gave the post-obit account of Poll'southward exploits in a 1921 letter: "Earlier the sermon and while the oversupply was gathering, a wicked parrot that was a household pet got excited and commenced swearing so loud and long as to disturb the people and had to exist carried from the house." The but thing more American than swearing at Andrew Jackson's funeral would be dancing at his funeral, just the golden historic period of dancing cockatoos was notwithstanding years off, and as the saying goes, you lot ruin Andrew Jackson's funeral with the parrots you have, non the parrots you want. Still, the historical record is cryptic enough that it'due south possible Poll was cursing considering Jackson was expressionless, rather than cursing Jackson, so until further evidence surfaces, Poll is in the middle of the pack.
22. Liberty, Gerald Ford's Dog
Gerald Ford had a golden retriever named Liberty (full name: Accolade's Foxfire Liberty Hume) who was a charming and friendly White Firm dog throughout Ford'south presidency. In 1975, she was bred with a high-class aureate retriever from Oregon and gave nativity to nine puppies in the White House. Here, ladies and gentlemen, are those puppies:
Adorable! In her post-presidency life, withal, Liberty broke bad: The Fords tried to brood her in Oregon again, just Liberty wanted nothing more to practise with the uptight high-society dogs she'd been surrounded by in the White Firm. Ford's master of staff, Robert Barrett, had the idea of introducing Freedom to a dog from the wrong side of the tracks: Bart, a pedigreed golden retriever who belonged to Packy Walker, an eccentric hotelier in Vail, Colorado, whom the local newspaper referred to as "the Clown Prince of Vail" when he retired in 2015. Bart was plenty eccentric in his own right: He was known for drinking beer, so much and then that there's withal a bar named later him. Probably not outset dog cloth, but Barrett made an irresistible pitch on behalf of this alcoholic canine ski bum to Mrs. Ford:
When Liberty first sees Bart, Bart volition be wearing a maroon satin robe with a white ascot, with a monogrammed "B" on the pocket. Bart will enter carrying ii spectacles of champagne in his left paw and accept a cigaret holder in his correct. The cigaret should have a dangling tip.
In fairness to Bart, Liberty should be wearing a sheer negligee and accept a right paw draped demurely over her breast.
In that location's no record of whether Bart actually put on the robe and ascot, simply he and Freedom hitting it off immediately and had puppies together, scandalizing upper-crust pet society.
21. Veto, James Garfield's Dog
Veto was one of the first presidential pets to become a celebrity during his ain lifetime, getting favorable national press earlier Garfield took office for what turned out to be an extremely brief presidency. There are a lot of stories well-nigh Veto, an enormous Newfoundland, who was unusually smart and very uneasy about the strangers visiting Garfield'due south farm during the presidential campaign, but the best is this account of Veto ruining a letter of amends Garfield was writing i belatedly night during the entrada, as recounted in the Chicago Tribune:
… he took his pen, weary as he was, and began to write her a letter of caption. He had written nearly the whole of the first page, when "Veto," who had been standing past wagging his tail for some time, and trying to get some attention from his master, at length became impatient, and placed his big, dingy paw upon the page however wet with the ink, and made an unreadable and unsightly scrawl of the whole. "O you good-for-null old young man!" said the General, patting the dog'due south head, "you have made me a skilful deal of trouble and labor by your over-familiarity." He then quietly tore up the sheet, and began his letter of the alphabet again.
When it comes to dogs, "you have made me a good deal of problem and labor past your over-familiarity" is pretty much a best-case scenario. Veto did not accompany Garfield to the White House, so he never got the take a chance to veto whatever actual legislation, simply given the mess he made of that letter, he would have been a natural.
twenty. Hector, Frances Cleveland'due south Dog
Grover Cleveland was the just president to get married at the White House, and also the only president who bought his hereafter bride a infant carriage when he was 27 and she was an infant. Frances Folsom married Cleveland at the historic period of 21, and the press could not get plenty of the youthful, charming starting time lady and her creepy spousal relationship. The new bride brought a full-on menagerie to the White House, per the Chattanooga Daily Times, including a "big St. Bernard dog, five canaries, four cats, the fawn, the Jersey heifer, Gracie, presented by George Due west. Childs; a dozen white mice, ii peacocks, two guinea pigs, two alligators, a large assortment of blooded fowls, and the tender recollection of the dead monkey, which was Mrs. Cleveland's master source of consolation and enjoyment while it lived, and whose untimely taking off by a severe common cold was a great blow to the charming lady of the White House."
With all due respect to the expressionless monkey, Hector, a French poodle, gets pride of place here, for 2 reasons. First, he seems similar he might take been the basis for Disney'south Tramp; the newspaper described him every bit "a great reprobate" who "wanders all over town at all sorts of hours of the nighttime, agonizing the choice canine circles of society of Washington." Second, he had a tragic life, for a canis familiaris: According to a profile of Mrs. Cleveland in the Epoch, the Saint Bernard eclipsed Hector in his owner's affections, equally she had more involvement in "the newly arrived and nobler dog." Was this what led Hector to prowl all over Washington, drowning his sorrows in canine revelry, or did Hector's Falstaffian excesses force Mrs. Cleveland's hand? Either way, not cool, Frances.
nineteen. Miss Pussy, Rutherford B. Hayes' Cat
Miss Pussy was a gift to starting time lady Lucy Webb Hayes from David B. Sickels, a diplomat at the Bangkok consulate, and mayhap the offset Siamese cat in America. As Sickels explained in a letter to Mrs. Hayes, he had seen in an American paper that Mrs. Hayes liked cats and took it upon himself to ship her a Siamese, who he referred to every bit "Miss Pussy." (Other sources suggest this cat was renamed "Siam," but we're going with "Miss Pussy" considering why on Globe wouldn't nosotros?) Miss Pussy traveled to Hong Kong, crossed the Pacific on an Occidental and Oriental steamship (in the care of the purser, according to Sickels), took a railroad train to Washington, and spent about a year roaming the White Firm before falling ill and dying in the fall of 1879. Supposedly, the cat's body was preserved by the secretary of agriculture, but information technology'due south never turned upward. And so if you lot take the taxidermized corpse of a Siamese true cat that looks like it died about 141 years ago, contact the Smithsonian Institution at (202) 633-1000, and they'll immediately dispatch the Rutherford B. Hayes' Cat Verification Squad to your home or place of business.
xviii. Polly, Dolley Madison'southward Macaw
Polly presided over what can only be called a reign of terror at the White Business firm during the James Madison administration. A souvenir from a South American diplomat, Polly roamed the White House freely and, non to put besides fine a betoken on information technology, routinely attacked visitors. Archivist Hilarie M. Hicks has collected some outset-person accounts of Polly's exploits for the website of Madison'south residence, Montpelier, from the time she chased the secretary of the navy's daughter around the White Business firm to the time she bit one of President Madison's fingers to the os, and there's only one determination to exist fatigued: This bird was a revolutionary. We've all dreamed about bitter one or all of the president's fingers off, simply merely Polly was dauntless enough to really make the attempt. Polly was rescued from the burning White House during the State of war of 1812 and returned to private life with the Madisons but met a tragic cease when she was left exterior on a porch overnight and a hawk killed her.
17. Apollo, Zachary Taylor's Trick Pony
Americans beloved a proficient rags-to-riches story, and Apollo, a trick pony belonging to Zachary Taylor, has a nifty one. According to his sometime owner Simon Pollak, he was purchased "at a sheriff's auction of a wrecked circus company" sometime before 1840. Apparently owning a circus pony, even from a bankrupt circus, was the 1840s equivalent of owning a flashy sports car; Pollak wrote that Apollo was responsible for his social success, because the horse was "in constant demand by the young ladies." When a overflowing wiped out Pollak's Louisiana farm in 1844, he sold his horses and mules, and although he had non planned to sell Apollo, he was convinced to give her as a present to Betty Taylor, Zachary Taylor's daughter. And that's how Apollo went from the wreckage of a failed circus all the way to "a triumphal entry into Washington" as part of Taylor's countdown parade. Of course, Taylor'due south presidency only lasted 16 months, only hey! Trick pony!
sixteen. Bo and Sunny, Barack Obama'south Dogs
Like Barney and Miss Beazley before them, Bo and Sunny, the Portuguese water dogs belonging to the Obama family, dabbled in show business. Unlike the Bush dogs, whose single-minded pursuit of cinematic excellence blinded them to their administration's excesses, Bo and Sunny at least gave the public the impression of civic-mindedness, actualization in public service announcements like this curt film about disaster planning for pets:
Look a piddling closer, though, and it's articulate that Bo and Sunny were just as self-obsessed as any Hollywood superdog. Bo in particular was notorious for using the holiday season equally an excuse to festoon the White Firm with statues of himself, a trend that reached its sorry apotheosis in 2012, when Bo fabricated a holiday film that primarily depicted him inspecting his ain statue with self-satisfied pride:
Melania Trump would later have inappropriate Christmas celebrations to new and much more grotesque and terrifying places, but she was standing on the shoulders of the Portuguese h2o dogs who came before her.
fifteen. Misty Malarky Ying Yang, Amy Carter'southward Cat
"Miss Pussy" is a pretty good proper noun for a cat, but it'south got nothing on "Misty Malarky Ying Yang," a Siamese cat belonging to Amy Carter. In sharp contrast to the modern Democratic Party's strong stance against malarky, Democrats of the 1970s were thrilled past Misty Malarky Ying Yang's malarky, particularly an incident in which journalists waited for President Jimmy Carter and Mexican President José López Portillo to descend the g staircase at a state dinner, only to have Misty Malarky Ying Yang descend instead. The name alone would exist plenty for Misty Malarky Ying Yang to edge out Miss Pussy, only in that location'southward more: Hungarian jazz guitarist Gábor Szabó released a song titled "Misty Malarky Ying Yang" on his 1977 LP Faces. (So far, no one seems to have recorded a song called "Miss Pussy," but it'll probably happen sooner or later.) Check out Misty Malarky Ying Yang'south signature tune, but be prepared for an extremely smooth groove:
A suave, sophisticated reminder of the aureate age of White Firm malarky … misty malarky.
14. Pushinka, John F. Kennedy'southward Dog
Pushinka, a souvenir for the Kennedy children from Nikita Khrushchev, was undeniably of Soviet origin, but unlike James Monroe'due south mysterious Siberian husky, she was not a spy. Pushinka'southward parents, Pushok and Strelka, were both highly busy veterans of the Soviet space dog program—Strelka was ane of the first animals to get into orbit and survive—and almost certainly hard-line communists. Despite her upbringing, however, once she'd gotten a taste of American life, Pushinka adapted the decadent Western means of the Kennedy family and somewhen settled downwards to raise puppies with Charlie Kennedy, a local dog. Did this canine romance bring about the end of the Cold State of war? No, it did not, only that's hardly Pushinka'southward fault.
13. Martin Van Buren's Tiger Cubs
Many lists of presidential pets include the amusing tale of Martin Van Buren'due south pet tiger cubs, a gift from the sultan of Sultanate of oman. Van Buren supposedly wanted to continue them in the White House—and in some accounts, briefly did—only was rebuffed by Congress, who forced him to requite them to a zoo instead. That story does not seem to be truthful, but the real events were even weirder. The sultan of Oman did give Van Buren a souvenir that acquired a debate in Congress: On Christmas Mean solar day 1839, the sultan sent Van Buren a letter of the alphabet announcing that he would exist sending forth a few "trifles," including two Arabian horses, a carpet, a string of pearls, and four cashmere shawls, just no tiger cubs. When the sultan'due south gifts arrived, Van Buren asked Congress what was to be washed with them; eventually the horses were sold and the other items were given to the National Establish gallery, a forerunner to the Smithsonian.
Then where exercise tigers enter the story? Probably from a similar incident from effectually the aforementioned time, involving a gift from the emperor of Kingdom of morocco and an extremely bad day at the office for the staff of the American Consulate in Tangier. Thomas N. Carr, the consul, had attempted to explain to Moroccan officials that neither he nor his government could accept gifts, but the bulletin manifestly didn't become through. As he relayed to the State Department in one of the all-time groovy "I screwed upward at piece of work" letters, the nephew of a local official unexpectedly arrived at the consulate one solar day with "an enormous magnificent panthera leo and lioness" from the emperor and convinced Carr to accept them:
I told him that I would non receive them—that my mind was fairly made upwardly. So, said he, my conclusion is as strong as yours—I am ordered to deliver them to y'all—information technology will cost me my head if I disobey—I shall exit them in the street. The street upon which is the American consulate is a narrow brusque cul-de-sac. … Preparations were made for placing the baby-sit at the open end, and turning the lions loose in the street. Seeing further resistance hopeless … I was compelled to surrender to this novel form of attack, and to open i of my rooms to the reception of the animals, where they now are.
The adjacent time yous're having a bad twenty-four hours at piece of work, remember: If you've never had to ask your boss what to do with the fully grown lions you've accidentally agreed to keep in the function, yous're a better employee than Thomas N. Carr, and that guy was a loftier-ranking diplomat. (The lions were eventually shipped to the United States and sold.) So it turns out Martin Van Buren'due south pet tiger cubs were not tigers, nor cubs, nor pets, nor Martin Van Buren's, which would commonly hurt them in these rankings. Merely the story of the hapless Moroccan consul and the 2 fully grown lions that were his guests at the consulate is hilarious enough to push these entirely fictional presidential pets into the top tier.
12. Laddie Boy, Warren G. Harding's Canis familiaris
Laddie Male child, an Airedale terrier belonging to Warren G. Harding, was the first presidential pet to become wall-to-wall printing coverage, leaving earlier glory pets similar James Garfield's dog in the dustbin of history. Newspapers loved this dog, devoting thousands and thousands of words to his antics under headlines like "Laddie Male child Makes Self Indispensable to Assistants," "First Dog of Land Is Real Humanizer," and "Laddie Boy, White House Pet, Interviewed," an imagined interview from the New York Herald in which Laddie Boy complained almost the paparazzi:
I've posed for that gang in every believable attitude except standing on my head. And in that location hasn't been a picture published even so that does me justice. Had they permit me stay in Toledo, where I belonged, my pictures wouldn't be in a unmarried newspaper—and yet I'k only the same dog as I was in Toledo, except that I'm more disgusted.
In the virtually baroque and bizarre instance of Laddie Boy's press blitz, the Washington Evening Star gave about half a page to a story nearly Laddie Male child hosting a GamemasterAnthony-way reception for the stars of the Washington Evening Star's comics pages, hanging out with everyone from long-forgotten characters like Radio Ralf to heavyweights like Krazy Kat and Mutt and Jeff. Of course there'due south an illustration:
After Harding'due south decease, Laddie Boy stepped back from the spotlight and moved to Boston, where he lived out his days in the care of a Cloak-and-dagger Service amanuensis named, and this is true, "Harry Barker." He died in 1929, a very good boy.
11. King Timahoe, Richard Nixon's Dog
Checkers was Richard Nixon's most famous dog but died before Nixon reached the White House, making him ineligible for inclusion in these extremely official rankings. Checkers' claim to fame was saving Nixon's political career, a controversial legacy to say the to the lowest degree. Rex Timahoe, an Irish setter who was a gift to the president from his staff, was famous for not liking Richard Nixon very much on a personal level, which is the kind of thing all Americans should be able to concord on. Traphes Bryant, who kept the White House kennels, describes Nixon and Rex Timahoe's relationship in his memoir:
At get-go the President was fifty-fifty shy with King Timahoe, and didn't know how to handle him. I could see he wanted very much for the dog to love him best, and exist a real companion, but when the presidential chopper would get in and King Tim would be there to greet the President, Tim would go to everyone else first, and finally come up to the President. The President would look a bit sheepish.
Fifty-fifty with more time together at Camp David, King Timahoe didn't warm upwards to Nixon; Bryant writes that he "was always running abroad from Nixon." Truly, a male monarch amongst dogs.
10. Dial, James Buchanan'south Dog
James Buchanan's pets included a menagerie of animals, including a pair of baldheaded eagles, that were sent to him by citizens worried that, as the nation's first bachelor president, he'd be alone. Buchanan's loneliness was hypothetical and does non seem to accept been allayed by the eagles, which didn't make the news at the time and are never mentioned in correspondence from his presidency. The loneliness of his canis familiaris, Punch, however, was very real. In a letter to his niece Harriet Lane, who'd served as a sort of substitute beginning lady during his term, sent on October. 21, 1865, Buchanan answered Lane's inquiries about his dog similar this:
Among your numerous friends you ask merely for Dial, & this in the Postscript, which is said to incorporate the essence of a lady's alphabetic character. He is a companion which I shun as much as possible, not being at all to my liking. I believe, however, his wellness is in a satisfactory condition.
Well, la-dee-dah, James Buchanan, first you fail to prevent the Ceremonious War and so you decide you don't like your domestic dog. Absent some evidence of doggy perfidy, it seems similar Punch is blameless here and should probably have lived out his post-presidential dog life with Harriet Lane. Ranking Punch near the acme of the presidential pets seems like a pocket-size step toward righting this historical injustice. You were probably a good boy, Punch.
9. Socks, Bill Clinton's Cat
Cats are always aristocratic, but no cat has guarded his private life equally zealously every bit Socks, the black-and-white tuxedo-coated cat who accompanied the Clintons to Washington. Earlier presidential pets protected their privacy by avoiding the public, but Socks took the reverse approach. A master of propaganda and misinformation, Socks used the mass media to construct a glittering Citizen Kane–manner hall of mirrors, creating so many dissimilar personae that information technology quickly became impossible to separate true cat from fiction. There was Socks the tour guide, an animated cat that guided children through the White House website. There was Socks the memoirist, author of Socks Goes to Washington: The Diary of America'south Beginning True cat. In that location was Socks the Clinton spokescat, a boob true cat that Kermit the Frog interviewed that time he hosted Larry King Live. There was Socks the other memoirist, author of Socks Goes to the White House: A True cat's-Centre View of the President's House. In that location was Socks the TV star, sharing the screen with Candice Bergen in the classic Irish potato Brownish episode "Sox and the Single Girl." In that location was Socks the commando, who singlehandedly saved Washington from terrorists in the canceled Super Nintendo game Socks the Cat Rocks the Hill:
There was even Socks the other puppet cat, who was assassinated past Gordon Gano of the Trigger-happy Femmes in a music video for "Blister in the Sun" made when the song was featured in Grosse Pointe Blank:
Was there ever a "real" Socks at the centre of this maelstrom of contradictory public images? Past the end, fifty-fifty Socks didn't know.
8. Feller, Harry Truman'south Domestic dog
Punch got a raw deal, but Harry Truman'due south canis familiaris, Feller, had it worse. Presidential pets tin can be a useful public relations tool, but simply if the president genuinely likes pets. Truman did non, so when a supporter sent him a cocker spaniel puppy for Christmas of 1947, it turned into a public relations disaster. Not right away: Newspapers initially fawned over the puppy, predicting that, although Truman was not known as "a lover of dogs," "the private who does not fall for the appeal of a canine is rare."
Things didn't work out that fashion. Feller arrived in D.C. with great fanfare and got a circular of doting press coverage, but by January, the Washington Mail noted that he had "been seen simply briefly well-nigh the White Business firm, and usually on occasions when he is being photographed by the press." Margaret Truman, Harry'due south daughter, told the press the starting time lady didn't desire to raise the domestic dog. Then a March of Dimes poster boy asked to see Feller while visiting the White Firm and was told he was at the vet. It somewhen came out that Truman, who'd never wanted a domestic dog to brainstorm with, had given Feller to his personal physician, enraging the nation's dog lovers. By Apr, when a reporter asked the president, "What happened to Feller?" Truman's initial reply was "To what?" before claiming Feller was "still around." Feller, an innocent dog, eventually left the cruelty of politics behind him and retired to Ohio.
vii. Jonathan Edwards, Theodore Roosevelt'south Bear
Theodore Roosevelt and his family essentially bought a zoo: They brought a badger, guinea pigs, actual pigs, a macaw, a rabbit, a hyena, several dogs, and a pony with them to the White House. But none of Roosevelt's pets were quite as notable as Jonathan Edwards the bear, whom he wrote about in his memoir Outdoor Pastimes of an American Hunter:
… a queer-tempered young black bear, which the children named Jonathan Edwards, partly because of certain well-marked Calvinistic tendencies of his disposition, partly out of compliment to their mother, whose ancestors included that Puritan Divine. … The carry added zest to life in more than ways than one. When we took him to walk, it was always with a chain and gild, and when at last he went to the Zoo, the entire household breathed a sigh of relief, although I think the dogs missed him, as he had occasionally yielded them the pleasance of the chase in its strongest class.
Jonathan Edwards the behave, like Jonathan Edwards the Puritan, seems to have advisedly weighed humanity'due south worth and plant us lacking. Unfortunately, Roosevelt donated the acquit to the Bronx Zoo before the ursine preacher could mete out his harsh, cleansing justice.
6. Him and Her, Lyndon B. Johnson's Dogs
Several presidential pets have moved upward in the official presidential pet rankings because of the difficult circumstances of their lives, but no presidential pets deserve the sympathy vote as much as Him and Her, Lyndon B. Johnson'due south beagles. Him and Her were pretty run-of-the-mill dogs, and if they'd been owned past a different president would probably have landed right in the middle of the presidential pet rankings. They were catapulted into fame in 1964, when LBJ inexplicably picked them up by their ears while posing for photos on the White House lawn. Everyone was baffled by this strange turn of events and even more than then past Johnson's explanation:
He said he did it "to make him bark." "It's practiced for him," Johnson said, "and if you've always followed dogs, you similar to hear them bark."
A Society for the Prevention of Cruelty for Animals spokesperson rejoined that picking upwardly dogs by the ears was not good for them, calculation, "If somebody picked yous up by the ears, yous'd yelp also." Columnist Ralph McGill did his best to make the incident a referendum on American masculinity, railing against the "effete dog set, which keeps the animals perfumed and sprayed, and even sends them to canine psychiatrists" for criticizing Johnson, but at the cease of the day, it was just too difficult to convince the public that dogs enjoyed beingness picked up by their ears. Sadly, neither Him nor Her made information technology out of the Johnson White House live: Her high-strung to death on a stone she'd swallowed the twenty-four hour period after Thanksgiving, 1964; Him was run over by a auto on the White House lawn in the summer of 1966. Only they'll live on forever in our hearts, every bit the sixth best presidential pets in history.
5. Butcher Boy, Ulysses South. Grant's Horse
Ulysses Due south. Grant was an splendid horseman, a certified speed demon, and the simply president to exist arrested while in office. (His crime was careening recklessly around Washington in his equus caballus and buggy, and he was taken into custody by the same policeman who'd let him off with a alarm the day before.) Butcher Boy was a horse after the president's centre. In some accounts, Grant purchased the horse after losing a street race to the butcher's cart it pulled, but in this account from A Personal History of Ulysses Southward. Grant, an 1885 biography by Albert Deane Richardson and R.H. Fletcher, Grant was but impressed with the horse'south speed:
One 24-hour interval, riding from his role to dinner, he noticed a homely little white steed in a cart, pacing so fast that it was chop-chop out of sight. All he observed was, that it was driven past a boy without a glaze. The diminutive animal and so absorbed him, that he talked of it continually, until some friends ascertained that it was the belongings of a butcher, who had bought it for seventy-five dollars. The homo of claret, learning who wanted it, resisted all pecuniary blandishments until they reached three hundred dollars. The General purchased the white pacer, named it "Butcher-boy," and for many a day might be seen whirling forth backside it on the way to the role.
If they ever introduce time travel to the Fast and the Furious franchise, they've gotta go this human being behind the wheel of a Bugatti Veyron. Better yet, let the horse drive.
4. Fido, Abraham Lincoln's Dog
Fido wasn't technically a White House dog, but just because Abraham Lincoln didn't want to discipline him to the hustle and bustle of Washington. After Lincoln's election, Fido was frightened by the increase in visitors, attending, and noise around the family's domicile in Springfield, Illinois, and spent election night cowering nether his favorite sofa. Despite protests from Lincoln'south sons Tad and Willy, Fido didn't accompany the family eastward, staying instead with the Ringlet family unit in Springfield. (The Rolls also bought the sofa, so that Fido would have a familiar hiding place at his new home.) Sadly, Fido'due south story, like Lincoln's, ends in tragedy. In the 1950s, Dorothy Kunhardt tracked down John Roll, one of the surviving Scroll children, and he gave the post-obit account of Fido'south 1866 expiry to Time magazine:
… the dog, in a playful mode put his dirty paws upon a drunken man sitting in the street curbing [who] in his drunken rage, thrust a pocketknife into the body of poor old Fido. So Fido, only a poor yellow dog, met the fate of his illustrious principal—Assassination.
Only when you lot thought the story of Abraham Lincoln couldn't get whatsoever more tragic, whammo!, some drunkard comes along and stabs his canis familiaris.
three. Old Ike, Woodrow Wilson's Ram
Woodrow Wilson purchased a flock of 12 sheep in 1918 and set them loose on the White House backyard, where they trimmed the grass for gratuitous. Wilson donated their wool to the Red Cantankerous, which local chapters auctioned off to raise funds. An sick-tempered ram named "Old Ike" led the herd, which had grown to more than than xl by the fourth dimension Wilson gave the sheep abroad and returned to more conventional landscaping methods in 1920. Here are two facts about Old Ike: He loved chewing on tobacco and would eat any cigar butts he could become his hooves on, and—co-ordinate to Robert Due east. Long, a D.C. theater managing director hired to project movies for Wilson at the White House—he "would butt anybody he could reach, and he once knocked a policeman so cold that other policemen had to rescue him." For his incomparable achievements in the fields of cigar chomping and aggravated assault, we're pleased to name Old Ike the third best presidential pet.
ii. Fala, Franklin D. Roosevelt's Domestic dog
Fala, a Scottish terrier who was given to Franklin D. Roosevelt as a gift by his afar cousin Margaret Suckley in 1940, was one of the most famous presidential pets in history. People knew about previous presidential pets, and Laddie Male child had become a celebrity, merely Fala was a star: MGM put him in ii short films, Fala: The President's Dog in 1943 and Fala at Hyde Park in 1946. That's right: Fala allowable enough star power to land a lead role at MGM even after FDR's death. Fala's Hollywood work isn't available online, but you can get a sense of his charm and charisma from the footage in this brief British Pathé newsreel:
Fala was then well-known that American soldiers used him every bit a shibboleth during World War Two, asking the name of the president'southward domestic dog in an attempt to identify German infiltrators. In 1944, Fala set some other presidential pet milestone when a Republican representative gave a spoken language on the House floor alleging that Roosevelt had left Fala behind while visiting the Aleutian Islands and dispatched a destroyer, at taxpayer expense, to pick the canis familiaris upwards. The story was QAnon-level nonsense, just it got a lot of press. A few weeks later, FDR addressed the accusations in a spoken communication to the teamsters, using some jokes that had been written for him by Orson Welles:
That was probably the first fourth dimension a presidential pet was enlisted in this kind of defensive political maneuver, but Nixon must have studied it closely. After FDR'southward death, Fala retired to Hyde Park, dying in 1952. He's cached next to Franklin and Eleanor, and is the only presidential pet to engagement to have a statue on the National Mall. Also, his full proper name was "Murray the Outlaw of Falahill," after a 15th-century bandit, which is a wonderful name for a domestic dog. Cracking work, Fala!
i. Billy Possum, Herbert Hoover's Possum
No pet in presidential history embodies America in all its disgusting glory quite like Billy Possum, Herbert Hoover'due south possum. A few years before Hoover'south arrival in D.C., pet superfan Grace Coolidge saved a raccoon on its mode to the Thanksgiving table, named it Rebecca, and built it a treehouse, where information technology happily lived out the Coolidge administration. When the Coolidges left the White Business firm, so did their pet raccoon, leaving an empty raccoon-sized treehouse on the White Business firm lawn.
Enter Baton Possum. In some accounts, he was caught past White House staff on the grounds and and so deliberately allowed to live in Rebecca's treehouse; in others, he simply asserted squatter's rights, possum style. Here's a dramatized recreation of the moment Baton met President Hoover:
Baton'southward name came from another storied American tradition: the knockoff greenbacks catch. In 1908, during the early on years of the Teddy Carry craze, some ill-fated toymakers in Georgia decided that the next large matter would exist stuffed possums. Teddy Bears were inspired by a story about Theodore Roosevelt refusing to shoot a conduct; Billy Possums were inspired by a story about William Howard Taft requesting and eating an enormous meal of roast possum and potatoes at a Republican role in Atlanta, which wasn't quite as endearing. Here's an ad showing Billy Possums for sale at Kann's in D.C.:
Billy Possum the toy was a complete flop, to approximately no one's surprise. As for Billy Possum the possum, he kept himself busy during Hoover's presidency. When news broke that a possum had taken up residency at the White House, students at nearby Hyattsville High School asked if it was by any chance their school mascot, a possum who had recently escaped. It wasn't, but Hoover sent Billy Possum on a mission of mercy to serve as an emergency replacement mascot. Hither's Baton hanging out with his disreputable-looking high school friends:
To sum up, Billy Possum was a screeching trash monster with ties to a dubious and poorly conceived go-rich-quick scheme who moved into someone else'southward home uninvited and refused to leave—the very spirit of America manifested in ane ghastly marsupial. Then congratulations, Billy Possum, you are the greatest presidential pet in the history of the U.s.a. of America!
Source: https://slate.com/culture/2021/01/presidential-pets-best-ever-ranked.html
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