One of the more left-field speakers announced on the Republican National Convention schedule for Tuesday night was Babydog Justice — not the name of a Gen Z musical act or a GOP candidate, but the name of an English bulldog from West Virginia. Babydog will appear onstage, a press release stated, alongside her owner, Governor Jim Justice.
This is far from the first time the West Virginia governor has used his canine companion to political effect. Four-year-old Babydog often joins her owner on trips around the state, where she has become somewhat of a local celebrity over the past few years. She was the face of a vaccination initiative championed by the governor called Do It For Babydog — and was even featured in an official mural about West Virginia history earlier this year. The official Babydog Twitter/X account shows her positioned next to an American flag and a desk, as if poised to begin work on behalf of her constituents.
Babydog even has her own political controversies. When the mural was unveiled, Governor Justice’s Democratic opponent for the West Virginia Senate seat in November, Glenn Elliott, complained on Twitter that Justice “spoke at length about his own dog and said nothing about [first governor of the state] Governor Boreman,” which shows a “total lack of respect for anything beyond himself.”
Asked about Elliott’s criticism by the Associated Press, Justice retorted: “Tell Glenn to get a life.”
The very existence of Babydog is somewhat counterintuitive. The Trumpian brand of Republican politics is far-right, excessively ideological, and very much focused on “delivering hard truths” (a strategy others might refer to as fearmongering.) It is not whimsical or silly in the style of Babydog. It’s not going to kill your puppy, exactly — a misstep already made by Kristi Noem — but it’s also not going to waste time cuddling on camera with man’s best friend. This is a fist-pumping, flag-waving, authoritarian GOP that does not tend to show its soft side. Few babies have been kissed on campaign trails in 2024.
Indeed, the appearance of Babydog at the RNC underlines how difficult it is for Republicans like Justice to walk the MAGA line. Their conservatism is, ahem, a different breed. Justice is hardly a social justice warrior — he signed into law a state abortion ban; he’s big on gun access and Second Amendment rights; he’s refused to say that global warming is the scientific consensus — but he also started out as a conservative Democrat before switching parties, has said that LGBT people are welcome in his state, and supported the Medicaid expansion mandated by Obamacare.
In a live address to West Virginians after the attempted assassination of Trump, Governor Justice said: “Here’s a man that I know as a personal friend, and without any question we’ve got to stop the violence, do we not? That’s all there is to it. We’ve got to stop the hate, and we’ve got to stop the tolerance of allowing and accepting the violence.” It was hardly a JD Vance-style point of the finger at Democrats.
And yet it’s hard to imagine Justice and Trump as friends, sitting together by the fire with Babydog, The Donald reaching out an orangey hand to pat the English bulldog on the head while they talk policy. Justice is a man who says “you-know-what” in place of “bullsh*t” and holds up Babydog’s rear end as a message to people who don’t believe in West Virginia. Trump throws around terms like “grabbed her by the p***y”.
“I received the call and can confirm that I will not be on the @GOP ticket with President Donald J. Trump as his Vice President. See everyone at the @GOPconvention #RNC2024 tomorrow!” Babydog’s account tweeted as JD Vance was announced as Trump’s running mate. The next day, the account reminded followers that Babydog will appear onstage on Tuesday with her owner, and directed people to buy official Babydog merchandise featuring the slogan “PAW-LITICAL STRATEGY”.
One can only imagine how the face of Do It For Babydog might feel about Trump echoing vaccine conspiracies in a call with RFK Jr on Tuesday morning. At an RNC where imagery featuring a bloodied Trump with his fist in the air abounds and Madison Cawthorn rubs shoulders with Marjorie Taylor Greene, it’s hard to see where Babydog and her owner fit in — practically, philosophically, ideologically. When MTG openly accuses her opponents of being “ the party of pedophiles ,” Justice’s “Tell Glenn to get a life” starts looking awful quaint.
Then again, perhaps that’s the point. Republicans who want to get on board with Trump’s hardline policies while retaining a veneer of folksy respectability do better when they have an adorable mascot or a Hallmark-worthy sob story. Vance himself, author of Hillbilly Elegy who still trades off his working-class background despite being a wealthy Yale Law School graduate, knows this better than most. The self-deprecating humor inherent in positioning your dog as a wannabe running-mate echoes the kind of wink-wink-nudge-nudge aside often made by Ted Cruz, the man who famously left his own state during a freak storm for a vacation to Mexico then later joked onstage at CPAC: “I gotta say, Orlando is awesome. Not as nice as Cancun, but nice!” It’s a very clever sleight-of-hand, positioning oneself as a relatable everyman — just you, but richer! — while at the same time co-signing some very harsh, often shocking policies.
Nevertheless, some of those who have enjoyed the light humor of Babydog’s adventures may be disappointed to see her onstage backing Trump for president this week. It’s like what they always say about politics: You either die a hero, or live long enough to see Babydog get milkshake-ducked .
Most Popular
Comments / 0