My fellow canine Americans:
It is an honor to begin my term as the nation’s first dog. I’d like to thank all the cabinet members who will help me lead the nation’s pooches. Chief of Staff Cujo, you’re doing a great job. If you were any more ornery, I’d have to give you a nickname that would really make you sound really vicious. Like Rahm.
Deputy Dawg, you’re a deputy no more! Now you head up the canine nation’s law enforcement, Attorney General Dawg. Defense Secretary Snoopy, I look forward to working with you on your exciting ideas about retrofitting our Air Force with Sopwith Camels.
And I’d just like to point out that my new Treasury secretary, Goofy, is starting to look pretty smart compared to some other Treasury secretaries I could name.
In an effort to reach across the aisle and make my administration truly bipartisan, I am glad to note that Garfield has accepted my offer to join the cabinet, although as secretary of lasagna, his responsibilities will be limited.
And may I say thanks to the best vice-first dog a fella could ever have: Pluto. You don’t talk. That makes you ideal. You only put your foot in your mouth when you’re licking it.
As I gaze out upon this shining land, I see dalmatians and akitas. Shih-tzus and Shetland sheepdogs. Yorkies and Russian wolfhounds.
For all of you and the many other breeds that make America great, I have a message: I won.
None of you was chosen to stand on this lawn. I was. Politics is theater, and I’m best in show.
So listen up while I impose my will on you.
I haven’t been in Washington long. Some say I’m too young and inexperienced to dig up the economy of this country like a flowerbed.
But I say that being six-months-old is an advantage, not a drawback.