sibling, a kitten named Midnight. But when Chelsea saw the duo and approached them, Socks jumped into her arms.
Thus a media phenomenon was born. Midnight also found a good home, but Socks won worldwide fame. First he lived in the governor’s mansion. Then, after Clinton’s election to the presidency, the Arkansas tomcat moved to the White House. Instead of crouching under a porch, he spent his days lazing in the garden outside the Oval Office or napping in a favorite chair in the West Wing. He also made numerous public appearances, often traveling in a cat carrier fitted with the presidential seal.
Not that life in a media fishbowl was always perfect. Photographers swarmed Socks, sometimes bribing him with catnip. After it was deemed too dangerous to give him free run of the White House grounds, he was confined to a very long leash. But those inconveniences paled in comparison to his longstanding quarrel with the “first dog,” a purebred Labrador retriever named Buddy. According to Hillary Clinton, Socks hated the exuberant canine “instantly and forever.” The two did, however, bury the hatchet long enough to pose for the cover of a book called Dear Socks, Dear Buddy: Kids’ Letters to the First Pets .
After the end of the Clinton administration, Socks received not only a change of address, but a change of family. Given his well-known dislike for Buddy, Socks was turned over to the care of Betty Curie, Bill Clinton’s former personal secretary. The cat and Curie had always been great friends, and the Clintons felt that they should enjoy their retirements together. Today she and Socks live in Maryland in a Labrador-free house, far from the limelight.
COLBY
THE CAT WHO WENT
TO COLLEGE, SORT OF
Most people think there’s no substitute for a quality education. But in fact there is, as a six-year-old cat named Colby Nolan taught the world. In 2004, Pennsylvania Attorney General Jerry Pappert became aware of a Texas-based diploma mill that sold online college degrees via unsolicited e-mails. To foil the people behind it, his department set up a unique sting operation.
Undercover operatives made online contact with an “institution of higher learning” called Trinity Southern University in Plano, Texas. Actually, TSU didn’t exist. But then, neither did Colby Nolan, the eager scholar whom the sting operators claimed to be. According to their e-mails, young Colby was interested in obtaining a bachelor’s degree in business administration for the low, low price of $299.
When the TSU representatives sent him a “student application” to fill out, it was returned containing information that shouldn’t have qualified him for a GED, let alone university admission. Colby’s trumped-up resume stated that he’d taken three community college courses, worked at a fast-food restaurant, and had a paper route. Yet surprisingly (or, perhaps, not so surprisingly), theschool’s administrators stated that his work experience qualified him not for a bachelor’s degree, but for an executive MBA (available for only $399, plus shipping).
The TSU people couldn’t know it, but Colby was even more unqualified than his resume made him sound. He was, in fact, a six-year-old black cat belonging to an attorney general’s office staffer. Yet once the check for his diploma cleared, he received an authentic-looking sheepskin, complete with signatures from the university’s president and dean. Another $99 netted Colby’s transcript. It stated that the feline, who could neither speak, read, nor write, and had never set one paw in a classroom, had accumulated a 3.5 GPA.
This was more than enough for the cops. Colby the student was revealed to be Colby the cat, and he even posed for news photographers while wearing a tiny, feline-sized graduation cap. Shortly thereafter charges were filed against the quasi-mythical TSU, along with the individuals who ran it. Not surprisingly, the school’s Web site almost immediately vanished
Carl Woodring, James Shapiro