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.
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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 goo
repeat their up close and personal encounter with a lightening strike. i have never seen a lightning strike this close to me. this experience has changed the way i view these things. i m not quite as brave as i used to be. i love it. rita actually is probably going to continue recording all these things and maybe stand a little further inside the house when she does. get on out. when nature strikes, it strikes fast. in this 2013 youtube video, a west point cadet is seen releasing a mouse that has taken up residence in his room. hey, buddy. i have no idea. the cadet has got on the used to having the pesky critter around. he affectionately calls it whis kers. come on, whis whiskers. go on, get on out.