Sailor Boy
No doubt, the Roosevelt family were dog lovers. Among their many canine companions was Sailor Boy, a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, “…the most individual of the dogs,” Roosevelt noted, with “…a masterful temperament and strong sense of both dignity and duty.”
Rollo
A massive brown and white St. Bernard, Rollo was a gift from Roosevelt family friend, Alfred S. Rollo, for whom the dog was eventually named. But the giant, easy-going dog almost didn’t make it into the growing White House menagerie, as T.R. tried to decline the gift. In a letter to Rollo (the human!), T.R. wrote: “…I am going to ask you not to think me churlish if I say we have three collies already, one of them a puppy, and four other dogs in addition, and that I really have not house room or stable room for any more. I dare not venture to tell your proposition to my children.”
Well, T.R. must have relented because Rollo became a much-loved part of the family and was often seen racing across the White House lawn with the kids, patiently enduring their raucous roughhousing. He adored the children, and he especially loved the man who almost gave him away.
Jack
Jack was Kermit Roosevelt’s beloved smooth-haired Manchester Terrier. In a 1902 letter, President Roosevelt described the spunky, little black dog as “…absolutely a family member.” Though the entire Roosevelt family doted on the clever canine that easily learned tricks, he did have one detractor, a scheming nemesis, who taunted him relentlessly—Tom Quartz, the family cat. When Jack died, he was buried behind the White House, but as T.R.’s second term was coming to an end, First Lady Edith Roosevelt couldn’t bear to leave him behind with other presidents, “…who might care nothing for little black dogs.” So, they had his casket exhumed and they reburied him at Sagamore Hill, their Long Island estate.
Other Roosevelt family dogs included:
Skip, an affectionate black and tan rat terrier, belonging to Archie Roosevelt.
Pete, T.R.’s bull terrier, whose penchant for biting White House guests, including the French Ambassador, got him banished to the family’s Sagamore Hill house!
Leo, Alice Roosevelt’s long-haired chihuahua.
Manchu, a Pekingese, whose personality was as avant-garde as Alice’s, was given to her by the Chinese Empress Dowager, Cixi.
The Cat’s Meow
Tom Quartz
Tom Quartz was named for the large, gray tomcat with a penchant for gold mining, owned by down-on-his-luck miner, Dick Baker, a character in Mark Twain’s semi-autobiographical frontier travel book, Roughing It.
T.R.’s Tom Quartz, a feisty, independent kitten, was more inclined to tease, torment, and play tricks on Jack, the family terrier, than to pan for gold. In a January 1903 letter to his son Kermit, Roosevelt said, “Tom Quartz is certainly the cunningest kitten I have ever seen. He is always playing pranks on Jack and I get very nervous lest Jack should grow too irritated.”
Tom Quartz also chose his “playmates” very carefully. Many were visiting politicians with whom he developed quite an attachment—literally! He once latched himself onto the leg of the dour and humorless Speaker of the House, Joseph Gurney Cannon, as he was leaving the White House. Cannon was not amused. However, Ohio Senator, Mark Hanna reacted differently when the lively feline set his sights on him for a round of roughhousing. T.R. wrote to Kermit, “Senator Hanna, unlike Uncle Joe Cannon, quite entered into the spirit of the game himself.”
Roosevelt adored Tom Quartz, who often slept under the president’s desk as he worked, and when T.R. packed it in for the day, T.Q. roused himself from his cat nap with a mighty yowl, demanding the undivided attention of the most powerful man in the world. We have no doubt T.R. complied!
Slippers
Roosevelt was particularly fond of this blue-gray, self-assured, polydactyl tabby. Like the 60 or so cats that roam the grounds of the Hemingway Home and Museum in Key West, Florida, today, Slippers had six toes on his feet, instead of the normal five on the front and four behind. T.R. found this genetic trait amusing and doted on the haughty feline.
Haughty, indeed. Slippers wasted no time making himself at home at the White House, taking his place among the powerful politicians and international dignitaries. Since T.R. never restricted Slippers from wandering where he wished, it was not unusual for him to mingle with the Washington elite. One time, as cats are wont to do, he plopped down right in the middle of the hallway leading to the dining room. When dinner was over, and T.R. was about to lead the formal procession of guests to the East Room for a concert, he noticed Slippers fast asleep directly in their path. No one would dare shoo Slippers away. After all, he was napping! And T.R. wouldn’t allow it, anyway. So the formal procession took a little detour, giving Slippers the respect and honor he was due—by walking around him.