All the Presidents' Pets by Mo Rocca

the passing of R&B legend Shirley Horn. The President will continue to press for a reduction in capital gains for our nation’s seniors.” No one bothered to write anything down. “Any questions?”
    A gasp came from the back corner. Everyone turned and saw a red-faced Joe Klein (
Time
magazine) pulling away from Andrea Mitchell’s grasp. Scott raised an eyebrow: “The President would like to advise the chairman of the Fed to spend less time watching the markets and more time watching his wife.” Everyone laughed.
    â€œJesus, she’s horny,” said Candy, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Looks like the only thing goin’ up with Greenspan these days is interest rates.” Candy raised her hand behind her, and Jim Angle, on cue, gave her five up top. This was a tough crowd.
    After a few halfhearted questions about the President’s forthcoming appearance on
The Tonight Sho
w—
“Is the President afraid of getting ‘Jay-walked’?”—Helen raised her hand. With the biggest sneer he could muster, Scott called on her: “Yes,
Helen?
”
    â€œWhy has the President refused to demand an explanation for Pakistani president Pervez Musharraf’s acquiescence to continued incursions by Pakistani militants into Indian-controlled Kashmir?”
    â€œLoser,” coughed NPR’s Nina Totenberg under her breath. Kate Snow cackled when David Gregory mimicked Helen from behind her.
    Dana Milbank couldn’t resist: “Excuse me, ma’am, can I get your autograph? My grandmother
loved
you on
Murder, She Wrote.
”
    Scott took a deep breath: “Well,
Helen,
” he began as if he were speaking to a learning-disabled child, “the President doesn’t condone such attacks. But,
Helen,
the President enjoys a close relationship with President Musharraf. So,
Helen,
the American people can rest assured that the American President will be very honest,
Helen,
with the Pakistani leader if warranted. Okay,
Helen?
”
    Helen, unafraid, looked Scott right in the eye. “That’s not okay, Scott. I need you to answer my question.” But Helen’s efforts to press her question were met by hisses from her fellow reporters.
    â€œHello-o? Please shut u-up,” said Norah O’Donnell. A few reporters seconded her. Others laughed. Bill Moyers flung a Cheeto at her.
    Even the
New York Times
’s germ warfare expert Judith Miller joined in: “Looks like we found our WMD—Woman of Massive Dementia!”
    Helen pressed on. “If the American people are going to commit their sons and daughters to fighting terrorism, but a so-called partner in the fight continues—”
    â€œThis is really getting old, Helen. Your insubordination has been well noted by this White House.” Scott scowled, then looked around for the next questioner. His face suddenly lit up. “Yes, Laurie!”
    Like an A student getting ready to deliver an A+ report, Laurie flipped her hair back, cleared her throat, and referred to her notes. “Mr. Secretary, the public has been made aware that yesterday Barney had tummy problems. Mr. Secretary, America wants to know: did he do a nice poopie today?”
    It was hard to believe that that question had just been asked in the White House Briefing Room. It seemed a violation of decorum and I was deeply embarrassed for Laurie. But rather than snickers and jeers, the only sounds were deeply concerned oohs and aahs.
    Scott became very solemn. “Laurie, the First Family appreciates America’s warm thoughts and prayers for Barney. Yesterday the First Dog indeed felt terrible. After an initial consultation, the White House vet wasn’t sure what would happen. Barney was subsequently sent to Walter Reed Medical Center. As of this morning Barney’s prognosis was unclear . . .”
    Kate Snow gasped, both hands to her mouth. The suspense was too much for her. Gil, the reporter from