Of all the stains besmirching the Trump presidency — the ethical lacunae, the spasmodic “policy” fits, the Golf Digest aesthetic — none looms so large as the absence of a White House pet. Breathes there a man with a soul so dead that he doesn’t want a loyal dog or faithful feline trotting beside him when he mounts that lonely staircase to the venerable Master Bedroom?

Apparently, yes.

It seems emblematic of President Trump’s blaring tone-deafness for the office that he doesn’t even feign interest in recruiting a furry, fowlish or finny friend. Pets reap vast, humanizing rewards for presidents, as almost every one of his predecessors has discovered.

The White House has at various times hosted snakes, a badger, a lion, a hyena, zebra, bears and even elephants, gifted to James Buchanan from the king of Siam, present-day Thailand. The animal lover and killer Theodore Roosevelt doubled as zookeeper, sheltering such exotic charges as the guinea pig Admiral Dewey and Jonathan Edwards, a small bear.