The unincorporated town of Idyllwild in Riverside County, California, has a mayor with an indefinite tenure — and interestingly enough, a single bloodline has held the position ever since it became vacant.

Back in 2012, the townsfolk decided to hold a fundraiser election for a local animal rescue nonprofit organization, with votes costing a dollar each (via Travel and Leisure). A golden retriever named Maximus “Max” Mighty-Dog Mueller won by an astonishing margin. This was mainly because of his owners’ sizable contribution but also partly because of the dog’s popularity among the voters. Max served for a term and a half before dying of old age. At that point, his humans made it their mission to track down Max’s descendants, hoping that one of them could assume the position.

As luck would have it, they managed to bring home three, including the current mayor (and mayor-for-life), Max II. The new dog’s reign is far from a dictatorship, though, because the townsfolk actually cast their votes for him as their permanent mayor. A highly visible figure, Max II not only graces public events, healthcare institutions, and schools, but also meets tourists by schedule through his official website. According to The Guardian, Mayor Max II has a simple mission: “To make the world a better place by conveying unconditional love and doing as many good deeds for others as possible.”

Back in 2014, the citizens of Divide, a mountain town in Colorado, were faced with a seemingly tough decision. They had to choose their new mayor, and it came down to a cat named Buster, a donkey named Herbie, a hedgehog named Blackberry, a mustang named Gracie, a wolf named Keyni, and a number of canine candidates (via Dogster). Given the result of the votes, it truly was a tough race. A search-and-rescue bloodhound named Pa Kettle emerged as the victor, amassing 2,387 votes; for reference, Kenyi managed to rake in 2,332 for second place.

Like the other small towns, Divide has no legitimate mayor. This opened the doors for a local animal shelter to hold a fundraising election each year. The voter turnout had historically been quite impressive, with the organization successfully raising over $10,000 during previous elections. The 2014 election was no different, prompting almost 9,000 registrants to pledge their votes after a brief campaign period.

Pa Kettle reportedly owed his victory to three simple things: the fact that he had a last name, a verifiable birth certificate, and “a real job” (via the Irish Mirror).

As a small, unincorporated village in Michigan with around 300 or so denizens, Omena doesn’t really have (or need) an official mayor. That hasn’t stopped the population from having a bit of fundraising (and fun) each year, though — and one of their most memorable elections happened in 2018, when a cat named Sweet Tart McKee ran against another feline, a chicken, a goat, 13 dogs, and even a peacock for the position of town mayor (via The Kansas City Star).

According to an article published by the Detroit Free Press, the tradition of electing non-humans as Omena’s mayor started in 2008 as an initiative of the Omena Historical Society. Similar to the animal mayor elections in other towns, the organization collects a dollar per vote, which it puts into its endowment fund.

The 2018 election wasn’t Sweet Tart’s first taste of public service, though: After serving on the Omena Village Council for three years, she held the position of vice mayor for another three before becoming the mayor (via CNN).

Among all the mayors featured on this list, Talkeetna, Alaska’s feline town mayor Stubbs “served” the longest: 20 years, to be exact.

The most popular version of the tail, er, tale of Stubbs rise to power goes like this, according to Smithsonian Magazine. In the late ’90s, the disillusioned townsfolk of Talkeetna were unhappy with their human options for town mayor in the elections. Thus, they staged a quiet protest by writing in the name of a cat living in the town’s general store. While this isn’t accurate at all — since Talkeetna is a historical district, the town has no actual mayor — the townsfolk were more than happy to stick to this story, as it brought in massive media attention to the small town. Stubbs also attracted tons of curious tourists to Talkeetna, all of whom wanted to meet the famous feline face to face.

During his nearly two-decade term, Stubbs “ran” things around town from the comfort of the general-store-slash-mayor’s-office (via CNN). Unfortunately, a canine attack in 2013 may have significantly contributed to Stubbs’ shortened lifespan. The cat mayor recovered from his injuries (which included a fractured breastbone, deep wounds, and a punctured lung), but died in his sleep four years later.

The small unincorporated community of Lajitas, Texas, has had a string of interesting mayors since 1986 (via Houstonia): three generations of goats, all named Clay Henry, who were absolutely fond of human beverages. Clay Henry I began his time as mayor after winning an election sponsored by Walter Mischer, the big-time entrepreneur who owned the town. Aside from being an elected official, the other thing Clay Henry I was well-known for was his love for beer. 

The goat mayor’s tenure was tragically cut short, however, when his son, Clay Henry II, ended up headbutting him to death in a duel over a nanny. The younger goat inherited his father’s seat and eventually had a kid, Clay Henry III. In 2000, Clay Henry III ran against Clyde the canine and a “wooden Indian” — and won, unsurprisingly. Sadly, his tenure was far from peaceful. A man from Val Verde County named Jim Bob Hargrove felt deeply offended that the townsfolk were wasting excellent beer on a goat. In a rage, he castrated the goat mayor, stuffing his testicles in a refrigerator (via the New York Times).

These days, one can supposedly find the mounted remains of Clay Henry I at the Starlight Theater Saloon in Terlingua, Texas — a lifelike reminder of Lajitas’ world-famous, beer-drinking goat mayor.