The mayor of Idyllwild, California, was “born into public service”, according to his top aide. He took office at just 11 weeks old and spends nearly every day engaging with his constituents and spreading his hopes for world peace. He does it largely in the nude, though he wears a tie and an array of hats.

Mayor Maximus Mighty-Dog Mueller II, age six, is a golden retriever on a mission: “In his heart, he would like to see peace on Earth in his lifetime,” said his chief of staff and human companion, Phyllis Mueller. 

 Mayor Max spends his days promoting local businesses and charities and attending town events in Idyllwild, California. Photograph: Courtesy Phyllis Mueller

It’s not an easy job. “We come out into the public every day, including in bad weather, snow and rain,” in an effort to spread happiness, Mueller said. Residents meet the mayor and take photos. He also helps promote local businesses and charities; participates in town events, such as a popular Fourth of July parade; and visits homes, schools and retirement communities in the tiny, community-oriented town, writes The Guardian. 

How does a dog become mayor? Max II benefited from his bloodline, prompting some to liken his job to a monarchy. As with the British royals, he has no real political power – the unincorporated town is officially run by its county. And, like the royals, Mayor Max has his job for life. Some might fear corruption, but his lifetime appointment came at the request of the town he leads.

The mayor’s predecessor, Max I, was elected in a fundraiser whose proceeds benefited an animal rescue charity in Idyllwild, nestled in southern California’s San Bernardino national forest. The candidates were all pets, but Mueller’s hard campaigning and generous donation led to Max’s victory (aiming for fairness, she also donated to all the other candidates).

Max I died puppyless during his second term in office. That prompted Mueller to launch an international search for his relatives. She found Max II close to home, in the same county in California, where, when Mueller first met him, he crossed his forelegs and struck a pose. It was clear he was perfect for the job, and he was “grandfathered in”, Mueller said.

Mueller also discovered Max I had relatives in Ohio – Mikey and Mitzi are now deputy mayors who work security for Max II, who finished Max I’s term before being named mayor-for-life in 2014.

Max’s tenure has largely been free of controversy, though he did survive what has been called an assassination attempt: a dog off-leash at one event went for the mayor’s neck.

“It made my dog very afraid of other dogs for about a year,” Mueller said. “But he’s almost 100% over it,” and the deputy mayors offer an additional layer of protection by barking at any threat.

Security is important, given that the mayor’s work goes beyond the bounds of Idyllwild – which, Mueller said, is so relaxed that people go grocery shopping in their pajamas. Max and his predecessor have traveled all over the country meeting humans, including fellow mayors.

Mayor Max’s popularity has led to queries as to his eligibility for higher office; some voters, Mueller said, entered him as a write-in candidate in 2016. (He is unrelated to the most prominent Mueller in national politics, Robert.)

Though the constitution does not specifically ban dogs from running, candidates must be at least 35 years old, posing a challenge for any canine bid. A number of other animals have assumed public office in the US, including Duke the dog, who was a mayor in Minnesota; Stubbs the cat, former honorary mayor of Talkeetna, Alaska; and a series of hard-drinking goat leaders in Lajitas, Texas. None has yet mounted a serious presidential campaign.

As for party, “I always say he’s independent,” Mueller said. “He loves everybody unconditionally, and that’s why I think he’s so well loved.”