Pet peeves and the White House

You may remember that back in May when I introduced myself, I started this blog because I was upset after learning that Donald Trump is the first president in 168 years to have no pets. Pets are such a part of the American psyche that it just seems like there has to be something fundamentally wrong with someone who doesn’t have one. And given recent events, I rest my case.

The last American president to have had no pets was James K. Polk, who served from 1845 to 1849. In modern times, we’ve grown accustomed to media coverage of the nation’s “first pets,” such as George W. Bush’s Scottish terrier, Barney, and the Obamas’ Portuguese water dogs, Bo and Sunny. Bill Clinton broke a string of first dogs back in 1993 with Socks, a cat who apparently liked the trappings of the White House. I’m not sure what I’m channeling here, but I imagine him saying at this press briefing, “I did not inhale the catnip.”

Anyway, according to this list of presidential pets, this nation’s leaders have had some pretty interesting companions. John Quincy Adams, for instance, had silkworms. I’m not sure about the attraction of silkworms, shown here in all their cuddly glory, but I imagine if a candidate today were to admit to having such a pet, it would be as toxic to his or her candidacy as admitting to being an atheist. Just imagine the usual photo of the president and his family on their way to a well-deserved vacation, only instead of the president confidently strolling across the South Lawn of the White House toward Marine One with a dog’s leash in hand, he has a fistful of silkworms!

William Henry Harrison, Abraham Lincoln and Benjamin Harrison all had goats. Theodore Roosevelt had a large and interesting collection of pets that included a badger named Josiah, a rat named Jonathan and a garter snake named Emily Spinach. Calvin Coolidge had a black bear, two lion cubs and a pygmy hippopotamus. Herbert Hoover had two alligators. Presumably none of these pets resided at the White House.

And then there are some of the names, which may offer clues as to what these presidents were about. George Washington had four coonhounds named Drunkard, Taster, Tipler and Typsy. James Garfield had a dog named Veto. Benjamin Harrison had opossums named Mr. Reciprocity and Mr. Protection. John F. Kennedy had a canary named Robin, which I mention only because it seems to me to indicate some sort of internal conflict.

So Mr. Trump, it’s not too late for you to get with the program and try to save your image by adopting a pet of some kind … something, anything. Even Andrew Johnson, who had no named pets, at least fed the mice he found in his bedroom!