On July 20 in Omena, a small town in the “little finger” of northern Michigan, a crowd of about a hundred locals gathered in a church parking lot for the inauguration of their new mayor. A brass band played “The Stars and Stripes Forever” as Sally Viskochil, president of the local historical society, walked across the patriotically festooned stage to make the announcement.

“And our new mayor is. . . ” There was a collective intake of breath. “Lucky!”

There was a smattering of applause, but a few members of the audience looked stunned. Mike McKenzie, 53, an Illinoisan with a summer home in Omena, turned to me, befuddled.

“Boy,” he said. “I guess people really are fed up with the old two-species system.”

Lucky, after all, is a horse. He’s a cross between an American Quarter and an American Paint, to be precise, and the first equid to be elected mayor of Omena. Until now, this race has only ever been won by a dog—and, once, a cat. You could say Lucky was an underdog in securing the town’s highest office, except he beat twelve actual dogs, five cats, and a goat. Many of them were in attendance. The victor was not.

As the results sunk in, Rosie, the incumbent mayor, a Golden Labrador mix, wandered around the crowd, saying her goodbyes. The band broke into “Hail to the Chief” for her, and she paused, as if to listen.

This is the only election Omena locals have felt like talking about this summer, though there are a few parallels with another, human race. Over the last few weeks, I’ve watched voters argue about whether Schatzi Putnam, an Australian Shepherd mutt, would tone down his anti-immigration rhetoric. During the last election in 2021, he promised to “build a wall, a beautiful wall” to keep out the geese.

Over the last few weeks, the species question has been the number one source of debate in town: Is a dog or cat better qualified for public office, or did they need a third-species candidate to come in and shake things up, or even drain the swamp?