Pets of Taiwan’s Presidents: From Authoritarian Wolfdogs in the Official Residence to the Social Resonance of the “First Cat”

30-second overview: The pets of Taiwan’s presidents have been more than family members inside the official residence. They have often served as condensed images of political persona and social values. From the stern wolfdogs of the Chiang Kai-shek era, Lee Teng-hui’s pack of golden retrievers, Chen Shui-bian’s Taiwan dog Yong-ge, Ma Ying-jeou’s Ma Xiaojiu, Tsai Ing-wen’s cats and dogs, to Lai Ching-te’s rescued dog Luke, this list offers a side portrait of how “first pets” evolved from simple private preference into a political language for advancing animal protection and projecting everyday warmth.

Guardians of the Authoritarian Era: Canine Shadows in the Official Residence

During the period of authoritarian rule, presidential pets often carried a pronounced military and austere character. Chiang Kai-shek had long been fond of dogs. In his diary, he once recorded a revealing detail: one of his beloved dogs urinated on a carpet newly purchased by Soong Mei-ling, making Chiang so angry that he ordered the dog to be “confined” and denied food ¹. This act of imposing military discipline on a pet offers a side portrait of the ruler’s disposition at the time.

Around 1951, the Shilin Official Residence welcomed a wolfdog donated by a civic association. This wolfdog not only enjoyed extremely high status inside the residence, but also often accompanied Chiang Kai-shek to various occasions. For the strongman of that era, a dog was not merely a pet; it also had the functions of “protecting its master” and “guarding,” symbolizing the ruler’s vigilance and inviolability. In media reports at the time, such dogs were often fashioned as “spiritual dogs,” emphasizing their mysterious bond with and loyalty to their owner.

The Chiang Ching-kuo era was comparatively low-profile. Although the family also kept dogs, pets appeared less often in public view. Chiang Ching-kuo once mentioned in his diary that, while inspecting the mountains, he and accompanying military police found a lost dog, showing his “close to the people” side. Yet pet politics had not yet taken shape in this period; animals inside the official residence were more often private embellishments of family life.

📝 Curator’s note: In the context of strongman politics, pets were extensions of power rather than objects of empathy. When they appeared before the camera, it was often to reinforce the ruler’s authority, not to display softness.

Democratic Transition and Personal Style: Golden Retrievers and Taiwan Dogs

As Taiwan entered democratization, presidential pets began to display a strong sense of personal style and local identity. President Lee Teng-hui was a well-known dog lover. While serving as Taipei mayor, he visited the United States on an inspection trip and saw visually impaired people guided by guide dogs, which inspired him to promote the idea in Taiwan. He later imported a pair of golden retrievers from abroad and raised them; they produced more than thirty puppies. Some were sent for guide-dog training, while the shyer ones remained in the official residence as pets ². A single official residence housing dozens of golden retrievers was itself a miniature of how Lee Teng-hui connected private preference to public issues.

By the Chen Shui-bian era, the first pet was for the first time deeply connected with local consciousness. A black Taiwan dog named “Yong-ge” entered the official residence and gradually acquired the status of a political symbol of “Taiwanese spirit,” moving beyond an individual pet choice. Campaign materials often emphasized the resilience and loyalty of the Taiwan native dog ³.

Yong-ge’s image appeared frequently in the media and even became a dedicated cartoon character, symbolizing the movement of presidential power from behind the high walls of the official residence toward a more civilian image. Yet this high degree of politicization also produced controversy. Yong-ge was criticized as part of a “political show,” and even after Chen Shui-bian left office, the dog’s fate remained closely watched as political power changed hands.

📝 Curator’s note: When the “Taiwan dog” was given the label of “Taiwanese spirit,” the pet ceased to be merely an animal and became a mirror reflecting local identity.

From “Ma Xiaojiu” to “Tsai Think Think”: Pets as Triggers for Social Issues

The pet that truly brought the issue into the center of social debate was Ma Ying-jeou’s “Ma Xiaojiu.” In August 1999, Ma Ying-jeou, then mayor of Taipei, adopted the three-month-old Ma Xiaojiu at a stray-dog adoption event. Ma Ying-jeou once joked: “Ma Xiaojiu has a higher status at home than I do. Ying is not as good as Xiao; humans are not as good as dogs; Ma Ying-jeou is not as good as Ma Xiaojiu.” ⁴ Although the remark was self-deprecating, it successfully established his image as someone who cared for animals.

However, Ma Xiaojiu was later drawn into the controversy over Ma’s “special allowance” funds, unexpectedly becoming one of the best-known dogs in Taiwan’s political history. At the time, some legislators questioned whether Ma Ying-jeou had used a chief executive’s special allowance to pay for Ma Xiaojiu’s boarding, medical care, and related expenses, sparking debate over the boundary between public and private matters. The complaint was ultimately dismissed by the Taipei District Prosecutors Office in March 2017. The reason was that the relevant special allowance conduct had been decriminalized through amendments to the Accounting Act, and Ma Ying-jeou had already been definitively acquitted by the Supreme Court in an earlier case ⁵. Even so, the three characters “Ma Xiaojiu” remain synonymous with debates over political transparency and rule of law in Taiwan.

📝 Curator’s note: When a pet moved from “private property” to an item under “special allowance” expenses, it formally entered the history of Taiwan’s rule of law and political contestation. Ma Xiaojiu’s medical receipts once became specimens for testing the public-private boundary of chief executives.

President Tsai Ing-wen opened the era in which the “cat faction” moved into the official residence. In 2012, a stray cat wandering in a mudslide disaster area in Xiulin Township, Hualien, was rescued and taken in, receiving the name “Think Think.” Think Think and the later “Ah Tsai” were not only stars on social media; they also made the image of the “cat servant,” an affectionate Mandarin term for devoted cat owners, an important bridge between Tsai Ing-wen and younger generations ⁶.

In addition to cats, Tsai Ing-wen adopted three retired guide dogs in 2016, Bella, Bunny, and Maru. After the search-and-rescue dog Lele reached retirement age, she also adopted it according to regulations, making it a new member of the official residence ⁷. In interviews, she also said she most wanted to spend time playing with Think Think and Ah Tsai ⁶. This diversification of the “first pet” extended the focus from simple companionship to the policy level of promoting “adopt, don’t shop” and the rights of working dogs.

📝 Curator’s note: Tsai Ing-wen’s official residence is like an “animal United Nations.” This is not only personal warmth, but also a form of social mobilization around the value of diverse lives.

Lai Ching-te and Luke: An Ordinary Narrative of Affection

The story of incumbent President Lai Ching-te and his dog Luke tends even more toward the emotional arc of an ordinary person. In an animated short film, Lai Ching-te recounted the relationship: thirteen years earlier, on his way home in Tainan, he often encountered a stray dog wandering nearby. He originally did not want to disturb it, but unexpectedly the dog “quietly followed behind him.” In the end, he decided to take the dog home and named it Luke ⁸.

Luke died in 2023 at the advanced age of eighteen. Lai Ching-te thanked Luke on Facebook for so many years of companionship, saying that Luke’s willingness to give complete trust and choose to become his family gave him a different understanding of life ⁹. This mourning resonated with countless pet owners. Later, Lai Ching-te adopted another stray dog from Pingtung, “Banban,” continuing to convey the value of “adopt, don’t shop.” This narrative of “encountering a stray dog and staying together for life” strips away deliberate political symbolism and returns to the purest connection between humans and animals.

📝 Curator’s note: The story of Lai Ching-te and Luke is a tender narrative about “being chosen.” It was not that a person chose a dog, but that lives chose one another.

Challenges and Controversies: The Political Cost of First Pets

Pets entering the official residence have never been only heartwarming stories. In addition to Ma Xiaojiu’s special allowance case, the cost of caring for presidential pets, whether public resources were used to walk dogs, and even whether a pet’s breed choice was sufficiently “politically correct” have all been focal points of scrutiny by the media and opposition parties.

Moreover, the image of presidential pets enjoying an exceptionally fortunate life has often been used by animal-protection groups to question the government’s shortcomings in stray-animal policy. As early as 2009, the writer Chu Tien-hsin asked at an event opposing animal traps: what if one day the animal trap caught Ma Xiaojiu?¹⁰ Since then, whenever incidents of dog abuse occur or pressure on stray-dog shelters erupts, similar questions such as “If this were the first pet, what would the government do?” have resurfaced. The existence of the first pet is both a living signboard for government promotion of animal protection and an invisible constraint on its policy responsibility.

📝 Curator’s note: The first pet is the president’s softest armor, but also the most easily pierced vulnerability.

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