San Francisco politicians have made many mistakes over the decades, but this really is one for the birds.
We are a city named after St. Francis, the patron saint of animals. We’re a city that notoriously has more dogs than kids. We’re a city full of cool native species and fancy transplants. Yet City Hall has never declared an official animal of San Francisco.
Considering that the people of the city aren’t exactly doing a terrific job these days, the Chronicle’s cultural critic Peter Hartlaub and I think it’s time to turn our attention to our more majestic, less talkative counterparts.
Every Friday in March, our Total SF podcast will feature a different local animal, starting with Claude, the famous albino alligator at the California Academy of Sciences. We’re also hosting a March Madness-style animal-themed tournament so Chronicle readers and podcast listeners can scour a field of 16 creatures and choose their ultimate favorite. Visit sfchronicle.com/animalmonth next week for the full reveal of the 16 controversial animals and the first round of voting.
When voting is complete, we’ll try to nominate your favorite—the albino alligator, the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill, the bison in Golden Gate Park, or another beautiful animal—as San Francisco’s official animal. Of course, there are far bigger fish to fry for our leaders, but this city has always made room for the offbeat and whimsical. And we could use a little distraction these days.
Plus, San Francisco has wisely never shied away from celebrating what makes it great.
We have an official bird: the California quail, which doesn’t even live in San Francisco anymore. We have an official flower: the dahlia. We have an official Christmas tree: the Monterey Cypress in front of McLaren Lodge in Golden Gate Park. We have official colors: black and gold. We have an official band: The San Francisco Lesbian/Gay Freedom Band (which everyone considered the city’s official band for years before Mayor London Breed signed legislation declaring it so in 2018).
We even have two official songs: “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” and just “San Francisco”. But no official animal? I’ve researched the topic tenaciously to make sure.
Claude the albino alligator swims around his tank after being fed at the California Academy of Sciences, where he welcomes visitors from his swamp.
Jessica Christian/The Chronicle
I checked with Ellen Schumer, the City Hall historian and fourth-generation San Franciscan who knows everything there is to know about our city.
“I’ve never heard anyone refer to an official San Francisco animal,” she said, noting that the phoenix is on our city flag, but it’s a mythological creature, not a real one. So what’s your choice?
“If you say dog, the cat people will get upset,” she mused. “I happen to love zebras.”
I also checked with Katherine Ets-Hokin, an archivist at the San Francisco Public Library’s History Center.
“I haven’t found any evidence or mention of an official animal,” she explained in an email. “I have consulted with my colleagues and searched our records but have found nothing… I have not found a single document codifying this information.”
That seemed good enough to me, but she asked if I had any more questions. I only had one thing: What do you think the official animal of the city should be? “Gulls,” she replied.
Library spokeswoman Kate Patterson, who was copied on our exchange, shot back: “Ewww gross! I say the majestic and enigmatic coyote.”
Whatever the readers choose – gross seagulls, enigmatic coyotes, or something else – it would have to be approved by the board of directors and the mayor to be made official. Supervisor Myrna Melgar said the idea sounds purring to her, and she’s ready to take the matter under her wing and enact legislation to make The Chronicle’s choice San Francisco’s official animal.
“Absolutely!” She said to me.
But first, she had a few questions: “Did John Arntz approve of this method?” she teased, referring to the city’s election chief, which requires a lot more diligence than an online poll. “And does that give my nomination more weight?” Um, no. Her choice is the dog in honor of Frankie, 5-year-old Lhasa Apso whom she rescued from Animal Care and Control when he was six months old.
“He’s kind of a terror, but I love him so much,” she said. A bit like San Francisco itself.
Melgar’s District 7Seven includes the California Academy of Sciences, making Claude the albino alligator its constituent. Hartlaub and I recently visited the 27-year-old, 278-pound behemoth to make sure he was doing well as the pandemic eased.
Biologists Jessica Witherly (left) and Emma Kocina feed Claude the albino alligator at the California Academy of Sciences.
Jessica Christian/The Chronicle
It’s hard to tell at times as he doesn’t move much and has spawned an academy of conspiracy theories. Biologists say they regularly hear that it’s actually a robotic alligator. But rest assured, he’s very much alive, and we’ve seen him grabbing rats and trout heads for breakfast. Claude was hatched on an alligator ranch in Louisiana and raised on St. Augustine Alligator Farm in Florida. Albino alligators, which lack pigment and vision, typically cannot survive long in the wild, but can live up to 80 years under human care.
The Academy of Sciences acquired him in 2008, and an exotic zookeeper drove him to San Francisco in a truck. Claude has since become so famous that he is the subject of a popular children’s book and receives fan mail from children across the country, sometimes addressed simply to “Claude”.
So well known is it, in fact, that The Chronicle’s esteemed science editor, the late David Perlman, wrote a series of stories about it when his swamp mate Bonnie bit his right toe in a 2009 scramble over their shared heated rock the liquor. (The academy vet amputated Claude’s toe, and Bonnie suffered an even worse fate: she was sent back to Florida.)
Now Claude lives peacefully with three turtles: Donatello, Rafael and, no, not Michelangelo or Leonardo, the remaining Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. The third turtle is Morla, apparently named after a giant turtle in The Neverending Story.
Emma Kocina, a biologist who cares for Claude and leads the Academy’s swamp team, argued that Claude should be made the city’s official animal.
“He has his own Wikipedia page,” she said. “You can buy a four foot stuffed animal from him. That’s pretty iconic. And he’s on t-shirts too.”
In short, Claude is a very, very big deal. But is he the biggest deal in San Francisco’s rich animal kingdom? He has many rivals for the title and we need your help to find the top dog.
Reach Heather Knight: hknight@sfchronicle.com; Twitter: @hknightsf
