Let’s Face It: Joe Biden’s Dog Should Probably Be Dead

Commander Biden—the German shepherd adopted by President Joe Biden and the first lady—has terrorized the White House to levels not seen since, at least, Dolley Madison’s violent macaw. Rumors of Commander’s “biting problem” have leaked from the nation’s capital since the moment the pup took up residence in late 2021. Consider, if you will, this report from last autumn, where the interloping canine took a chunk out of a Secret Service agent for the 11^th time on record. Now, thanks to a recent investigation conducted by CNN, we know the full extent of Commander’s bloodlust: The newsroom unearthed records revealing that Commander attacked presidential personnel on at least 24 separate occasions. Mathematically speaking, that means Commander is liable to fly off the handle about twice a month. These are not small bites, either: One Secret Service agent required six stitches in his forearm after Commander caused a “severe deep open wound” and a “significant amount of blood loss.” White House tours were shut down.

The incidents motivated one anonymous agent to warn his colleagues that “they must be creative to ensure their own personal safety”—quite an ominous missive indeed. Unsurprisingly, last October, Commander was moved out of the White House to an undisclosed location, which I imagine is a cute little farm upstate with lots of open space. According to a White House spokesperson at the time, Commander’s future was being “evaluated.”

So if Commander is still at large—and we have no reason to believe he isn’t—he should be considered armed and dangerous. Perhaps he is bounding through the open prairies of suburban Delaware, or, I don’t know, Barack Obama’s backyard, giving the evil eye to security details of all stripes. This is mildly perturbing, if only because I’m pretty sure a Yorkshire terrier could neutralize our current Democratic incumbent. The stakes are pretty high! It makes you wonder: Shouldn’t Biden consider sending Commander to a more figurative farm upstate?

After all, canine aggression is a difficult problem to solve. Just ask Cathy Madson, a dog behavior consultant in Seattle, who has dedicated her career to the management of pets just like Commander. “German shepherds were bred to herd, and then we put them into a guardian role. To protect an area,” she told me. “They’re a breed that needs to work. They love to work. But if we don’t give them a job, they’ll find one on their own. That might have been what happened at the White House.”

Madson examines a variety of different factors when she deduces the source of a dog’s aggression. Fear, stress, and anxiety are the most common culprits, which is why Madson said that getting Commander out of the White House, and into surroundings he might be more comfortable in, was the obvious first step to assuage his overwhelmed canine mind. There are also countless medical problems that could be exacerbating the behavior: thyroid issues, epilepsy, chronic pain, and so on. Madson searches for any obvious predictive trigger points—if a canine exclusively freaks out around children, or in Commander’s case, perhaps sinister men in black— then that provides a road map to treatment. She also analyzes the severity of the bites. A few nips and snaps are negligible, but a significant laceration is not.

In fact, there is no guarantee that the best trainers—or the most patient owners—can totally stop the violence. “The prognosis is: maybe,” Madson put it. That’s why “behavioral euthanasia,” as the veterinary community calls it, is an option for those who have reached their wits’ end. It’s a controversial topic among pet owners, but when a house is unsafe for children and the elderly because of a German shepherd, putting the pet down—for everyone’s sake—might be the most humane course of action for all parties involved. In fact, Madson said that a dog with Commander’s record certainly fits the bill.

“For a dog with this number of bites, and the level of severity, a regular dog owner would be dealing with the question of behavioral euthanasia already,” she said. “Management always fails at some point. You might leave the door open. A dog might jump over the gate. And if you have management failure, you think about the worst thing that could happen. That’s what we would look at.”

One of the primary reasons an owner might opt for behavioral euthanasia is the threat of personal liability. In D.C., a dog that attacks another person or pet can cost the owner up to $10,000 in fines, and if Commander were a civilian animal, it seems likely he’d have been taken to court a few times by now. According to D.C.-based veterinary behaviorist Amy L. Pike, in most jurisdictions, a judge can mandate that a dog be muzzled—or perhaps even put down—after a particularly violent assault. (For instance, back in 2016, a Belgian Malinois named Jeb was ordered to be euthanized after it attacked and killed a Pomeranian—a rap sheet about 10 lightyears shorter than Commander’s.)

Whether behavioral euthanasia is recommended depends on the circumstances of the bite. “If a dog bit a veterinarian during a rectal examination, they’re not going to put the dog down for that. If the dog broke loose and attacked a child? That’s a different set of circumstances. All of that plays a role for the prosecuting attorney,” Pike said. “If a dog is declared a ‘dangerous dog’ by a judge, the owner would need to have a dangerous dog rider on their homeowner’s insurance. It’d need to be muzzled whenever it’s outside of the home, and they’d have to post notices everywhere. It varies, but that’s pretty much the protocol.”

Pike added that it is difficult to rehome canines with a troubled past, even through rescue organizations: “They won’t take dogs with a history of bites. Most people looking to adopt won’t, either. So a lot of owners are put in a position where they have to choose between either keeping the dog or behaviorally euthanizing.”

We might never know what a court would recommend for Commander. It’s extremely unlikely that one of Biden’s maimed Secret Service agents is prepared to take the incumbent president to trial. Call it nepo-baby immunity. In that sense, he has a lot in common with other presidential pets, like Teddy Roosevelt’s Bull terrier, named Pete, and Biden’s previous German shepherd, named Major, who were both infamous biters who got off scot-free. (Pete famously ripped the pants off a French ambassador, which is maybe the only reason I’m sad Commander is no longer at the White House.) Maybe when he is out of office, the notorious German shepherd will be bombarded with cascading lawsuits filed by three-fingered consultants and assistants.

It should be said that the specifics of Commander’s violence—and his prognosis—are restricted to the White House inner sanctum. As Madson suggested to me, maybe Commander is buoyant and stress-free now that he’s rid of the confines of Pennsylvania Avenue, and his biting habit is a thing of the past. We’re certainly rooting for him. If not, though, Biden may be overdue on some grim business.