The reasons Donald Trump is abhorred here at Shalom Acres, our little hobby farm in Greenville, are too many to be counted, but among them is the fact that he was one of few American presidents to keep no critters in the White House.
We find this suspicious, since we share our place harmoniously – “shalom” meaning “peace” in Hebrew – with two Tibetan terriers, two miniature horses, and a pig.
Well, the pig has been a topic of debate. Since we’re Jewish, I’ve wondered lately if its high visibility as a greeter near the front door has been appropriate for homeowners of our persuasion.
Two points in its favor: It was given to us years back as a housewarming gift by a beloved family member, and it’s not a live porker – it’s made of molded concrete.
We settled recently on moving it a short distance to lower its profile but have agreed it deserves acceptance as much as any other farmyard creature. We consider it more like the affable piglet Wilbur of “Charlotte’s Web” than as a larder of forbidden morsels.
As for Trump, he’s an outlier among presidents who’ve lived in the White House with a menagerie of pets, from roosters to cows to – yes, a pig named Maude fancied by Theodore Roosevelt.
And, speaking of household greeters, William McKinley was so fond of his Mexican parrot that he appointed it the official greeter of the White House. According to the online Presidential Pet Museum, McKinley’s bird was so patriotic it could whistle “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”
Whether it would pass muster in today’s sensitive culture is problematic, though. According to the museum, in an effort to be inclusive, McKinley taught it to exclaim whenever women walked by its cage, “Look at all the pretty girls.”
McKinley’s parrot was low-key compared to one owned by Andrew Jackson. According to a museum account, the bird “swore like a sailor,” and cussed so loudly even at Jackson’s funeral that it had to be removed.
Back when fresh dairy products were not readily available, it was common to see cows grazing on the White House lawn under several administrations.
In 1910, the New York Times made note that Pauline, a Wisconsin holstein, had arrived in Washington by train, was escorted to the White House stables, and had “taken up her domestic duties as provider of milk and butter for President Taft’s household.” Pauline produced 7 1/2 quarts of milk daily, said the Times.
Presidents down the generations have kept dozens of requisite dogs and cats, but Teddy Roosevelt went several steps further with the porcine Maude, eleven horses, five guinea pigs, a badger, a small bear, a rabbit, a lizard, and a snake.
Herbert Hoover, the dog champ with 15, also harbored an opossum.
Woodrow Wilson kept a variety of dogs, cats and birds, not to mention a ram, Old Ike, who is reported to have habitually chewed tobacco.
The most unusual presidential pet was supposedly owned by John Quincy Adams, who, legend says, was given an alligator as a gift from the Marquis de Lafayette. There were claims that Adams kept the creature in the East Room lavatory and that he directed guests – especially those he disliked – to use that bathroom so he could exult in the ensuing terror.
The Encyclopedia Brittanica quotes historical sources as saying that while this is a satisfying story, its veracity is “dubious.” And as presidential history blogger Howard Dorre dryly put it: “John Quincy Adams’s pet alligator was a crock.”
We can’t associate the aforementioned Mr. Trump with any White House animal stories, since he’s on record as asserting that keeping pets is “low-class.”
But sticking with blogger Dorre’s useful take on the gator, when the topic turns either to pets or MAGA politics, down here on the farm we know a crock when we see one.
Gerry Goldstein (gerryg76@verizon.net) a frequent contributor, is a retired Providence Journal editor and columnist.