After four long years, we finally have a new president and, more importantly, new presidential pets. Usually the thrill of pets arriving at the White House is tempered by the sting of old presidential pets leaving the White House, but this year is different: Donald Trump is the first president in more than 100 years not to have a pet of any kind, so we can say goodbye to his rotten administration without stray sympathy for any blameless dogs, cats, or possums getting evicted alongside their captors. Advertisement This also means that the incoming presidential pets—the Bidens have two German shepherds and a cat, the former two of which arrived to the White House this week to great fanfare—won’t be able to rely on the outgoing presidential pets for advice or support during the transfer of power. So to help the new national mascots find their footing, Slate has decided to break what many regard as the most important commandment in journalism (“all presidential pets are equally good and any journalist who says otherwise should be summarily killed”) and firmly grip Washington’s most dangerous third rail, ranking the presidents’ pets from worst to best. As you’ll see, some of them were