At Harvard, competition is everywhere, extending beyond student organizations and rivalries with lesser-known colleges in Connecticut. Even Harvard’s most beloved animals have become the center of a fierce debate: Who is the true sweetheart of campus? The first contestant is Sasha, the Harvard University Police Department’s charismatic K9 officer, whose appearances at campus events, sports media days, and on social media has made her a Harvard celebrity. However, there is also Remy, an ever-present feline, who roams the Yard with the quiet confidence of a professor and has won over students through library visits and spontaneous encounters. For years, Harvard students have debated their favorite animal, and right now is no different.
What’s your pitch for why your chosen pet is Harvard’s best?
Ben: Let’s face it. Sasha’s a pet who instantly appeals to students, ultimately convincing everyone crossing her path that she’s the signature campus canine. I first understood this during the Class of 2028 Orientation Pep Rally, a characteristically meager attempt by Harvard to ignite school spirit. But when Sasha came up on the stage, the crowd finally erupted in cheers, louder than those for even Dean Khurana! As a Harvard micro-influencer with a verified Instagram account, Sasha has touched thousands of lives.
Whitman: Sure, Sasha has made waves on the internet, but at the end of the day, she is just that: an influencer. Posing for the perfect picture or coming out only to peacock with Harvard athletics teams, Sasha is clearly only focused on clout, not Harvard’s student body. Remy, on the other hand, is a true cat of the people. He has been there for us at our lowest, milling around the Yard and keeping us company during our late-night studying.
Remy’s special place in Harvard’s heart comes from his remarkable longevity, made possible by the collective efforts and support of Harvard students. On multiple occasions, I have seen students take Remy into Cabot Library on cold nights or even give him treats in their dorm rooms. Remy is a testament to the empathy and adoration that Harvard students share for their community.
Who else can vouch for the greatness of your chosen Harvard pet?
Ben: I have just one source to direct you to: Sasha’s legendary Instagram. Sure, Sasha’s a dog on the daily, but online she’s the DAWG—whether it’s athlete media days or nights at the Art Museums, you’ll see appearances of our school’s beloved police protector. If Sasha’s there, it’s a big deal. However, if public events are not enough for you, through her Linktree, you can schedule some quality one-on-one time whenever you want. Just make sure you respect her sleep schedule—Sasha isn’t pulling all-nighters on the third floor of Lamont Library. Anyone who’s had one of these appointments or looked into her big, brown eyes can assure you of how great this dog really is.
Whitman: What makes Remy so special isn’t just that he’s always there, it’s that he reflects the Harvard student experience in a way no one or nothing else does. Like us students, he navigates the Yard with purpose, weaving through tourists and rushing between destinations. He finds moments of rest in the library, just as students do between classes. His candid, student-submitted photos on Instagram capture something real: a presence that is deeply connected to the College’s community. While Sasha is technically tasked with “community engagement,” Remy is on the clock 24/7. There’s no need to schedule an appointment or find time in your busy schedule to hang out with the ubiquitous Remy. Remy’s impact is organic and constant, representing the spirit of Harvard’s student body. He represents the companionship and thoughtfulness that define life at Harvard. Seeing him isn’t just comforting, it’s a reminder that we’re all in this together.
What weaknesses do you see in your partner’s chosen pet?
Ben: Remy? Think about it. He’s small, scratchy, and mean. He’s greedy, always begging for your food when you’re just trying to get to your 10:30 class. I just know that when he’s walking down the halls, he’s thinking, “I’m the king, and there’s nothing you can do about it”—that prideful ego our feline “friends” get when they’re unwarrantedly fed a snack too many. Why unwarranted? Let me tell you: lured by his innocent-seeming purrs and soft, ginger fur, I invited the cat into my lowly Thayer dorm a few weeks ago. Minutes later, I looked around the room only to see him scratching up my sheets and refusing to leave my bed! As if I weren’t victim enough, he jumped onto my roommate’s bed and climbed on his desk! The chaos seemed like it would never end, but there’s hope it would if someone set the record straight on the true nature of this Ron Weasley wannabe.
And outside of Cabot Library goers, who even cares about Remy? While you can catch Sasha at any happening place on campus relevant to the entire student body, the only place this sad sack of ginger fur roams about is in the Science Center and the Yard. If you try finding him at the time you’re most likely at the Science Center, the 15-minute intervals between classes, chances are he’s making himself scarce or you’ll lose him among the sea of people rushing to their LS1b section. On the other hand, Sasha is consistent, and her actual job is to serve! “Any Harvard student” would back you up, Whitman? Well, not this one.
Whitman: Honestly, who can blame Remy? Captured in a student’s dorm with no escape or food, it would be foolish to judge any of his behavior in a situation like this. More than chaos, this scene sounds like a desperate attempt to be freed from his imprisonment in an unfriendly human dorm.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I fully see the appeal of having a police dog on campus. However, Sasha’s focus isn’t necessarily on investigative work. In her time on the force, she has yet to sniff out a bomb or find the thief who took my phone charger in Lamont. Like the most annoying member of the group project, Sasha just takes credit for HUPD’s hard work as a figurehead of the organization. While Sasha is busy posing for photos in front of her ring light with neatly combed fur, Remy is outside in the cold, greeting every student with wide eyes and a welcoming purr.
Ben and Whitman: Regardless of how we stand on whether Remy or Sasha truly triumphs as Harvard’s prime pet, we both concede that there are benefits to both. Want a support animal? Sasha is there for you. Need a late-night Cabot pick-me-up? Remy’s lurking around for your amusement. Clearly, the debate is still lively, but we hope this article has added some clarity to this discussion.
Ben: And by that, of course, we mean Sasha’s on top.
Whitman: A man of the people and a clear winner: Remy.
Ben Kaufman ’28 (benkaufman@college.harvard.edu) is allergic to cats, while Whitman Peters ’28 (whitpeters@college.harvard.edu) is allergic to Remy’s haters.