Tell Me About Your Pets

[Vevila]

My cat is named Unix, a beautiful black cat about 9 years old.

Her life started out badly - she was found in a dumpster outside one my company’s warehouses in California. She was the second cat found the same dumpster, almost a year later from the first cat. The wonderful warehouse guy took them into the warehouse and the two cats lived there until…the company sold the warehouse. No one out in California could take in both cats, so the owner of my company decided they would make wonderful office cats and flew them to our office in Denver, which is where I became acquainted with them.

The cats (the older one was named BB, he was a rather large cat, and also black like his younger ‘sister’ Unix) enjoyed hanging out in my office and I enjoyed getting to take kitty breaks during the day. Then the powers that be decided my department needed to be in the other building, so bye-bye kitty breaks, though I would go over to visit the cats.

Sadly, BB ended up having to be put down several months after I had moved to the other building, leaving Unix all alone. Well, the powers that be remembered that Unix really, really liked me, and after deciding they shouldn’t leave a cat all alone in the office, asked if I would like to give her a home.

At that stage in my life I had a roommate with a very old cat who would not have appreciated another addition to the home. So instead, I began lobbying my boyfriend to adopt Unix; he wasn’t very keen on the idea. I kept pestering him to give the cat a home, and he came up with a solution: I could move in with him and have the cat! All three of us are still together almost four years later.

[CaptBushido]

Oh, geez, I could write a novella over the history of pets in my life. (and I’m only 19)

I’m inclined to just mention my current ones, or only the ones that meant the most to me, but I was really attached to all of them, so I’m going to have to make a list and try to keep it as brief as possible.

Also note, I grew up in the country, my dogs lived ruggedly and dangerously, and more often than not, we had to be our own vets, and often had to do unpleasant things, like put them down. So, I apologize if my stories are a little more gory than others here.

Dogs

Bosco: My parents had her before I was born and she died when I was about 3 or 4; she was a big, beautiful black poodle of some sort (I was too young to know breeds), and apparently she was the most tame dog in the history of the universe. My parents give all sorts of stories about her, but the one that sticks out in my mind, is one time when she was barking and pulling and leading my parents out into the back yard under a tree to show them some baby birds that had fallen out of it. Wow. Any other dog I’ve ever had would have just eaten the birds.

Alex: Collie. Beautiful dog, my very first experience of losing a pet. I was about 5, he got hit by a car, and I saw the bloody body. Ick.

Molly: A big, black, long haired mutt. The only dog I’ve ever had from birth to death (all the rest were adopted strays) This dog was fiercely protective of our family; acted outright vicious towards other dogs, but was as kind and gentle as could be around us. Only dog that never struggled or hid when we washed, groomed, or medicated her. Always greeted us when we came home with a happy little moaning sound “Awooo-wooo-wooo!”

Pongo: Dalmation. Very submissive but loving dog. He once cut his side open crawling under a barbed wire fence, my dad had to carry him bleeding to the car, to get him to a vet to get sewn up. Had a big visible scar for the rest of his life.

Spike: Rottweiler. He looked like, well, a Rottweiler; mean, tough. But I swear we never had a sweeter, gentler dog than him. When he met people he’d do this strange little “grin” that frightened visitors because it looked like he was growling at them, but we assured them he wasn’t. He just smiles 'cuz he’s glad to see you! Lost (like so many of my dogs) to swallowed porcupine needles.

Pug: Boston Terrier. Named so due to a bad guess on the part of my little brother as to what her breed was. My great-grandmother found this dog around her house. Pug was… weird. She was probably the only older dog we ever adopted. She didn’t bark or interact with the other dogs, she… snorted. And grunted, and snuffled and drooled CONSTANTLY. She sounded like a pig, but despite her oddness and old age, she stayed with us. She never really did much interesting. That is, until the first Fourth of July that we had her. For almost a year, we had never seen this dog do anything other than snort, eat, and sleep, but the second we started firing off Saturn Missiles (the fireworks that a shoot a bunch of little flaming whistlers into the air), her ears perked up, she bolted upright, she stopped snorting and drooling, and went and grabbed the still-firing fireworks box and starting bringing it to us. Missiles were shooting directly in our direction and we had to jump out of our lawn chairs screaming and ducking for cover. What a crazy dog!

Bonnie & Clyde: Chow? Pomeranian? I don’t know, that’s what this brother and sister pair looked like, but they were large dogs, which I didn’t think fit those breeds. These two had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, wide pupils with a creamy beige color. Sadly, Bonnie was run over by a car a few works after we adopted them, but we had Clyde for many years until porcupine needles claimed him.

The following dogs are still alive (one of them by a miracle, though, or in other words: the gory stories aren’t over)

Nadine: Black lab mix. What a sad dog. She was obviously beaten before we adopted her. She still flinches whenever you raise your hand. We take care to be very gentle with her, and she seems to reciprocate, she’s very affectionate. Quite timid, tends to hide when strangers arrive or loud noises are heard.

Annie: Brown lab mix. Annie is our “puppy” although, technically, she’s grown out of that stage. She likes to chew on things, and jump up on people, and chew on things, and chase cats, and did I mention she chews on things? We’ve lost many shoes, both pairs and individual shoes by leaving them too close to the kitty door so she could stick her nose in and pull them outside. We’re still working on training her, but (and I hate to say this about one of my own dogs) she’s a little dense for her age and breed.

Tanner: Yellow lab. One of the few obviously pure-bred dogs we’ve had. He is a playful, energetic, uber-intelligent dog. Very likeable. Only dog we’ve ever had who likes water and swimming. Here’s the sad part: Only about a week after we adopted him, he crawled in early one morning, with a large bleeding hole in his head. My mom and I weren’t able to figure out what happened, but we assumed he was shot by someone, right between the eyes. We could tell he was in pain, he didn’t move or eat or drink. We picked him up, put him in the car and took him to the vet. The vet ran x-rays and said that his skull was definately fractured, they could remove the fragments, and sew up the wound, but brain-injury or internal bleeding was likely, so he was only given about a 50% chance of recovery. We went ahead with it. Got him sewed up. For a few weeks afterwards, he still acted sluggish and was in pain. I moved out for college worried about him. But a few weeks ago, I visited home, and he was just as happy as he was before! He was jumping around, playful, showed no signs of pain, the scar was not even very visible. It looks like he’ll be alright, and I’m very happy about it, I can’t wait to see him again when I go home for Thanksgiving.

Whew, that was long. I’ll guess I’ll leave off all my non-dog pets, unless you guys really want to hear them (there are some fantastic storeis).

[Winnie]

I’m always happy to talk about my furbaby. I have a 7.5 year old English Bulldog named Pia (she looks skinny in this picture, but I think it was manipulated because she’s like a little sack of potatoes).

The Pia Bear, Pia Bug, Tenacious P, Cheesecake, Baby Bear, Princess, Monkey Bear, Do Do Bird, Monkey Girl, Sweetness, Pi-Pi… I could keep going.

She’s a rescue from On The Rebound Bulldog Rescue in Northern Virginia/DC. When we got her she had been given up for aggression to strangers, dogs, and kids and we were given the option to take her because we didn’t have any kids or pets and she could be the “one and only”. Bulldogs aren’t, by nature, aggressive dogs, so it was up to our imaginations to determine how she became so UNsocial in the 3 years before we got her, or rather she got us.

It was certainly a challenge for that first year, getting her resocialized to being part of a “family”, and behaving somewhat socially in the neighborhood we live in which is VERY highly populated with kids and dogs. However she’s made a 300% turnaround since we got her, and while she’s not perfect she definitely is a better behaved dog than we could ever have imagined and are constantly amazed at how fast she learns new behaviors and tricks.

She is our family. Never have I seen so much expression in an animal’s face, and sometimes I SWEAR I can see her soul. She’s playful and adorable when the mood is right, and quiet and loving when she needs to be. When we were stricken by two very sudden and young deaths in the family this past year she knew to lay with me on the bed and doze quietly. When Mr. Winnie and I are feeling celebratory or have friends/family over, her “aunts and uncles”, she knows how to turn on the charm and shake her fat little rump up against our legs for scratches and pets. I couldn’t imagine having any other breed, EVER. Once you’re owned by a bulldog you’re owned for life. We’re better people for having this dog in our lives, and that’s the truth

[libwen]

Ah, we have one dog, Mitzi. She’s a ten-year-old Bichon frise. Our vet says she’s the largest bichon he’s ever seen (not only weight, but she’s also really long). My mother calls her a “stretch limo with a feather duster at the end.”

Mitz is prone to hot spots, and also gets bladder stones, so she’s on lots of medications. She likes to sleep and eat and bark at anything that walks in front of our house. She also enjoys impersonating a sheep. If you’re in the kitchen, she’ll soon join you, poking you in the calf with her nose to let you know she’s there, and would appreciate food. She’s a good girl.

[Frankenbear]

Innanna, you’re quite welcome. I love hearing about other people’s pets since mine are such a huge part of my life.

PalJuicy, great name! I grew up with a St. Bernard whose registered name was Baron Huggybear von Ludwig Rex. Everyone called him Bear though.

CaptBushido, I want hear about your non-dog pets, too.

Winnie, that’s great! It’s really wonderful you would take in a problem animal and give it a better life. Very admirable.

As I stated before my mom was a dog breeder when I was growing up. When I was 11 or so my dad gave her a female St. Bernard puppy. Her name was Nessie. She was a very sweet, very athletic dog that lived outside.

At the time my sister and I were involved in 4-H and raised chickens and turkeys. Nessie was about a year old when we picked up the next batch of 100 chicks to raise and show. What we didn’t know when we brought them home and was putting them in the pen was Nessie stole one of the chicks. She kept it hidden in the woods and was taking care of it. Fair time came and we were outside choosing which chickens to show when out of the woods came waddling this sad, pathetic excuse for a chicken. It was healthy, but scrawny. All we can figure is Nessie would take the chicken some of her food. We have no idea how the dog protected it from all of the predators that were around.

[FilmGeek]

I also adore my pets.

I have a cat, my boyfriend has a dog and we have a kitten.

Tanker, so named because she was the runt and last to be born, and she came out like a little tank, all folded up on herself, while her brothers and sisters all came out sleek and long. She’s eight years old now and weighs about 15 pounds and is a sweetie, to me. She’s a lap cat when she wants to be and runs away when she doesn’t. She’s colored like a torti, but more mottled and less patchy (less calico than regular tortis). She has a penchant for catnip, eating it with abandon and then rolling on her back and twitching with delight. (she also has an allergic skin condition and she’s able to get relief from itching when she’s ‘high’. She loves to lay on my chest and get her scratching in the morning and on my hip when I’m sleeping on my side at night and it’s cold.

Hockey, our dog, looks like a combo alaskan malamute, chow chow (no black spots on tongue or nails) and lab/golden. A mutt. She was rescued as a stray when she walked up to my bf and his other dog, Sydney a Rottie Lab mix. He put up posters and called shelters and all that, and got a call from the owners sister. They told him that her name was Heroin, after her sister’s favorite drug. They said they would take the dog if he didn’t want it and he’s had her from then. She’s 9 now, vascillates between 45 and 55 pounds, (depending on whether or not she’s at our house (thinner) and his parent’s house (spoiled) and is still a puppy. She loves to play “kick the dog” where she rolls over on her back and we push up on her with our feet underneath her. She barks and wags her tail like a little goon.

Jacob Murphy Chambers, our newest addition gained the name “Murphy” from his meow. He talks to us, but keeps his mouth shut, and so sounds like he’s saying “murph”. He’s nine months old (or so) and we got him from the local humane society about three months ago. He curls his tail like a corkscrew when he stretches and he loves to get in the shower when you’re done, lie down and watch the water run into the drain. He then jumps on the bed and wants to suckle on my neck with his cold tail wrapped around my neck. He also likes to ambush Tank with mighty leaps and he gets sprayed with the spray bottle when he does.

[CaptBushido]

Alrighty, let’s start with…

Cats:

Kitty Tom: This brown siamese cat was around my entire childhood, I think my parents got him about the same time I was born. I don’t really remember much about his personality, but uh… he was there.

Garf: This yellow cat liked to ride on moving vehicles. He’d hop in the car if you open the door, jump on the back of a motorcycle seat, even sit it on the wing of a ultralight airplane (yeah I had a runway in my back yard, what of it?) until someone picked him up and took him off. Just disappeared one day…

Posey: Beautiful calico cat, not a housecat, in fact she won’t step foot in the house no matter how hard you coax her. We call her our “Crazy Old Barn Cat” She’s getting to be about 10 years old, and spends most of the barn. Still comes out every now and again to get some attention, and we give it to her.

Blitzen: Everyone has a dominant, snooty cat that thinks he runs the house. That would be this grey striped cat. He just sits and sleeps… in your chair. No, he will not move. What is this? DRY cat food? Are you serious? Oh well, in all fairness, he is rather cuddly, and he was beyond a doubt the cutest kitten we ever had, before he grew out of it.

Cupcake: When we first got this white siamese, and my brothers named her, I was sickened by their choice. As time went by, however, I’ve grown to like it, as it is deliciously ironic. She’s outright adorable; no longer a kitten, she still has her small build and kittenish face. But this thing is a killer. Every day, she’s dragging in a bird, mouse, or rat. If anything around her moves faster than a brisk walk (this includes people and dogs) she will RUN IT DOWN and attack it. My dogs are outright terrified of her. When she goes outside, the yard clears instantly. She regularly performs the most incredible of physical feats (I swear I saw her jump about 8 feet straight off the ground to a treehouse, once) She’s affectionate, but has trouble showing it. When she’s feeling cuddly, she likes to drool and suck your hair, and it gets a tad icky. Bright blue eyes.

Now for the interesting animals, Misc:

Pig: The first pig we had, we didn’t name because we thought it would just be a piece of meat, to us. Not so. He was a very heavy Hampshire. Pigs don’t wander too far from the place where their food is given, so we let him roam around the yard for exercise. Not having any other pigs to take after, he became attached to the dogs! He followed them around, chased things that they chased, laid down and slept with them, it was hilarious. One time, my dad got up early to let him out to exercise, I didn’t know this, so I just waited for the school bus to come. When it arrives, I get on, and I hear the dogs coming up from behind the house to bark and chase it off. Suddenly all the other kids on the bus start laughing hysterically, I look outside, and my pig is chasing the bus down the driveway! He was really a great pet, he’d roll over on his back and let you scratch his stomach, anytime. We were planning on having him butchered and keeping the meat for ourselves, but we just couldn’t stand to eat him. We still had to sell him, however (you can’t keep stock pigs too long, they get way too obese to stay good pets).

Stirfry: This was a good-looking Duroc pig. We had two other pigs along with him, but they were my brothers’ so I didn’t ever bother with them. Apparently, having other pigs around makes a pig act like, well… a pig. Not near as entertaining as my first one was. His contribution was to my childhood was to be the most delicious German sausage I’ve ever had…

Pretty Bird: Oh, wow. Pretty Bird was a Parakeet. We tried desperately to get it to talk or whistle or imitate in any way. He preferred to squawk and poop on the carpet. We lost him when I came home from school early one day, so I decided to let one of the dogs into the house (Pongo) just because. I left the room for a minute, and from behind I hear “Bark! Snap!” I run into the room and yep, there are tail feathers sticking out of his mouth. Oh, s–t! I get him to spit the bird out, put it in a shoebox on the dining room table, threw the dog out, and started wondering how I was going to explain this to my mom when she got home.
I go into my room and close the door. About half an hour later, I hear a meowing at my door. I go and open it, and there’s one of our cats, Garf, sitting in front of the door looking at me. I look into the dining room and see an overturned shoebox and 2 blue feathers sitting on the ground. When my mother FINALLY got home “Uh… mom, Pongo bit and killed Pretty Bird, so I put him in a box, and then Garf ate him…” She looked at me, looked at the 2 feathers that were all that was left of our bird. Then she started laughing. Yeah, we weren’t too attached to Pretty Bird…

Salamanders: I’ve had (at one time) 5 tiger salamanders. I keep them in a tank filled half with water, with a dry gravel “hill” on the other side. I kind of just collected them, every now and then, one would show up after a rain in the summer, so we’d catch it and throw it in the tank. We fed them dried tube worm cubes and live crickets. We donated all but one of them to a museum with a reptile and amphibian exhibit (where I can only assume they were fed to the python or something, because tiger salamanders are mundance, common critters). The one we kept is the oldest however, and he is about 10 years old now. I had no idea they lived that long, but he’s still here!

And that is my animal history. I took having my own personal zoo for granted, as I now see how outright depressing having NO animals around is.

[Ilsa_Lund]

I have a southern copperhead. She likes to try and bite. I like to look.

[Myrtle_Ubanks]

I have four kitties. They were all strays, and are my sweetie pies.

Bertha…the oldest, (15) She’s all black and mean as all get out. She lives under the dresser in my bedroom, because everybody picks on her. She came to me in 1989 when I worked at the state prison. There was a prison riot, and the cops brought me this box with a little teeny black kitten in it. I brought home and she’s been here since.

John Doe-A striped tabby. He’s 9. His mom got run over by a car, and he and his brothers and sisters ran and hid. My friends gathered them all up and brought them home and called me. He and his brother picked me out. His brother died about 5 years ago of kidney failure. They had harsh starts to their lives. He’s fat and happy, but a little bit of a scaredy cat. The only cat I’ve ever met who is afraid of heights.

Pete-4 years old. Big, huge yellow striped orange guy with a big white chest. My loverboy. He also goes by the name Pea, Sweetpea, or Petecat Petecat.

And last, my sweet Grace. She is about 2. Came here to live last year. Just showed up. No fear of me. Hung out on the front porch and waited to be let in. I took her to the vet, got checked out, and brought her in the house. She’s black and white and had a triangle face. Since living here, she’s filled out rather well, and now resembles a penguin. She’s very sweet.

My favorite old man cat passed away in August. Mr. Thumbs was a long haired black and white gentleman. He was polydactil, and had the biggest front feet I’d ever seen on a cat. He was 16 when he died. Sometimes I see him out of the corner of my eye, so I know he’s hanging out keeping an eye on me. I do miss him, even though he’s around.

[Avarie537]

We have a very progressive ark going on in our house.

Two cats, two birds, and two fish. The known-gendered pets are all female.

Stacy is my cat. She was born in my bed in the middle of an early May night in 1992. I had just turned 12. (We didn’t get any of them fixed and only gave one away. For a time, we had five adult cats and 17 kittens. We got rid of all but two, Stacy and her mom.)

She used to be quite the hunter, but now prefers to stalk the food bag, as she is on a diet. She’s tabby with white - white nose, chin, neck, collar, belly, parts of her legs, and a little white spot on her back. It’s so crazy for me to think that she’s getting old these days. She’s lazy and doesn’t like to do much other than sleep and beg for food. But she does play on occasion. Until you notice her. Then she stops.

Zoe is very much a Daddy’s Kitten. She was rescued from the street by his girlfriend (at the time) after someone dropped her out of a car window behind a car that was backing out of the driveway!!! How sick is that? They weren’t going to keep her, so they took her to PetSmart, figuring someone would want an adorable calico kitten.

They bought litter, food, bowls, etc. before they left with her.

She’s a love kitty who squeaks when you pick her up and loves to play fetch. She loves to roll around on the floor, and stretch out on her back. When she’s laying on her back, she looks like she’s ready and waiting! I call it the “kitty porn” pose. I’ve got pictures - I just need to post the damned things.

The birds are a parakeet (Palila) and a cockatiel (Baby - we didn’t name her). This post is long enough already.

Although we do have the world’s longest-lived goldfish, Rasputin (he earned his name this year). We’ve had probably 10 goldfish over the last two years, and he’s one of the original pair we bought. He’s probably three inches long without his tail.

[whiterabbit]

I’ll stick to current pets.

Emily: A six-pound tortoiseshell kitty, also known as Her Majesty. She always sounds pissed off at us. Her purr is incredible, the joke is she should have been named Diesel. She’s quite a hunter; she’d been found with kittens by some rescue people, and had apparently been doing pretty well for herself. Just this evening she left half a dead mouse (tail included) for Mama Tiger in the bedroom. She lives in the master bedroom or outside because of the following beasts:

Rusty: A very very red golden retriever, who has storm anxiety as well as what I think is the doggie equivalent of generalized anxiety disorder. He’s on drugs for that, and the combination of the drugs with a secure environment have done wonders for him. He’s about three and was adopted from a rescue two years ago. He is as dumb as a box of rocks, but is one of the most loveable animals you’ll ever come across. He is also very handsome, but is far too goofy to realize it. He’s got a heck of a bark – which is only heard when there’s an Evil Delivery Guy or the Mail Carrier From Hell – but really is one of those dogs who would just lick you to death. Ick. And if you want to hug him, good luck, as when he gets attention he tends to slide to the floor. Dratted dog slides right out of my arms on a regular basis! (Assume I’m on the floor next to him for the hug attempts, since he weighs about 70 pounds!) He’s the dominant dog of the pair, which still amazes me, seeing as how everybody assumed he’d be the submissive one!

Isaac: Mostly yellow lab, with some golden, since he’s darker than a regular lab. However, the lab genes came out WAAAAAY on top. He really is gorgeous. He’s also very fond of food, and of chasing his Kong. And he worships the ground I walk on for no apparent reason, which is quite a compliment, and a bit scary in its way what with the implied responsibility! He’s about the same age as Rusty and came from the same rescue at the same time. He had to learn how to be a family dog and to relate properly to humans – he was a pretty wild, if well-meaning, pup at first – and has done a bang-up job of it. He has the most expressive ears, and uses a very low growl to communicate a lot. Since he’s at the bottom of the social scale in the house, he puts up with a lot but complains during a lot of it. Feed him or go throw his Kong and he will adore you, though he’ll always love me better! And if he’s in the mood for it, there’s lots of Isaac to hug, seeing as he likes food too much for his own good!

I’ve always been more of a cat person, but these dogs have got me GOOD. I absolutely adore them, as hyper as they were yesterday what with the weather or something. 75 pounds of Rusty launching himself at me at full speed when I’m sitting on my bed is a bit intimidating! I forgave him, but I yelled at him first.

[Magnolia_B]

Oh lord, my furry children are my favorite things to talk about.

Right now, we have three.

Windsor is an eight year old flashy fawn boxer, with unclipped ears. He was absolutely wild until he was about five. We even went through obedience training twice. (yes, I will admit that was partially my fault, though) Now that he is getting older, he is so much calmer, and likes to snuggle more. My favorite story about him is when he was a year or two old, he grabbed my father’s partials off the nightstand and ran a couple of loops around the house with them. My mother and I thought it was a riot. My Dad still doesn’t know about it. He also goes by Windsor B., doodlebug, monkey, and Wizard (that’s actually a cute story, too - my brother’s ex’s 5 year old sister couldn’t say “Windsor” so she would put one hand on her hip, point at him with the other, and say, "Sit, Wizard! It cracked us up)

Magnolia, a white english bulldog, is the newest baby. We got her last May when she was four months old. The breeders were going to keep her, but after the husband had a heart attack, they decided that they didn’t have the time/energy to take care of a puppy. Lucky me! I drove two hours away to get her. She is dumb as a stump, but she is the sweetest, funniest little dog I have ever seen. She’s pretty small for a bulldog. I think she only weighs about 30lbs., and the vet said she won’t really get any bigger. She’s the same height and length of the Jack Russell next door, only she’s about twice as wide. She really is hilarious. She makes the funnies faces. She likes to jump off of things, and when she does, she stretches out so much, we call her the flying squirrel. Her only trick is “give me five”. It’s a high five, not a low five.

Holly Muffintop is our calico cat. Someone moved out of an apartment in my friend’s building, and left her. My friend tried to adopt her, but her cat was not pleased. She didn’t want to take her to a shelter, so I said she could stay with us until we found a home for her. Well, we found a home for her, ours. She’s a good girl, and we think she’s really pretty. She gets along fine with Windsor, but she’s not too fond of Magnolia.

Oh, and I’ve got a salt water fish tank, but I haven’t been doing anything but upkeep on it in a long time. I really need to get back into building it up again.

It’s not very good, but here are a few pictures of the animals. My favorite pic is sideways… I really need to fix it…
http://www.geocities.com/ali531/pictures.html

[Blonde]

Sheba is a 10 year old Siamese (a mutt, all of our kitties were strays). She loves our 8 month old Siamese kittie Siam, they snuggle together at night, and she loves to pin his little ass down and wash him.
And then there’s Cherokee, the 1 year old black Persian. He plays with Siam - but Sheba despises him with feline passion.
They are quite beautiful. Here’s an album, starting out with a picture of Siam as a kitten (note the laptop’s page!)

http://f1.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/psvaughan/vwp?.dir=/pics&.dnm=Siam.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3A//f1.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/psvaughan/lst%3F%26.dir=/pics%26.src=ph%26.view=t

Oh, and we also have a dog! A nine-year old small female Dobie who loves the cats. Life is good.

[Captain_Blunty]

Love talking about my widdle wookie woos!

My baby is named Gizmo, and he will be One year old on the 5th of December. He is a Chinese Crested dog, so he is very exotic looking, kind of like a little horse or deer, with fluffy feet and a fluffy head. He’s black and white, with a white head and a black patch over his eye. His name just came to me when I first saw him, at 21 days old. I looked at him and whispered, "Gizmo,"and he opened his wee little eyes and looked at me.

He’s a big mama’s boy… he will paw at my hands for attention and cry with joy when I come home. He’s the cutest and sweetest little thing! He’s very “in your face” affectionate, and will leap onto my lap and smother my face with his licking kisses.

Then there’s Amber, Gizmo’s little sister. She’s had some behaviour problems and is almost impossible to housetrain, but we still love her to pieces! She is more aloof than Gizmo, and will be all over us one minute and not want to know us the next. She’s also a Chinese Crested Dog, but she is overwieght, so she looks like a fat little sausage. The precious little thing refuses to move! She’s lazy like her mum!

Here’s the dog’s album.

And then there’s the cat, Ugly. It’s hard to describe her. She’s aloof and angry one minute, and then sweet and loving the next. She’s a bit of a weirdo… she likes to chase shadows, and she is very loud, like a siamese. She doesn’t hesitate to yell at us when she wants something!

Here’s her album.

Love them all to bits!

[Forbin]

Killer likes to go backpacking.

[Elza_B]

You may be sorry you asked:).

Right now, I have five cats in this house. Three are the cats my brother and I got when we were younger and left with our parents. Two are the city cats my roommate and I got in NYC four years ago from the shelter. Since I’m living with my parents at the moment (for only another month and a half, thank the stars), they’ve learned to cohabitate.

Isabella - Izzy - is sixteen, almost seventeen. She was and still is MY girl. I got her when I was twelve, after my beloved Mittens died of cancer. She’s a grey, tan, and black calico who weighs about twenty pounds. She’s a beautiful girl, although I think she’s only beautiful to her mom:D.

Hurricane is our McDonalds cat. My mom saw him under the McDonalds drive through on her way to work one morning, and called me after school to go over there and get him and his brother. We managed to get both of them. The little black cat we gave to our neighbors, and we kept Hurricane - so named after the Miami Hurricanes. He’s a sweet cat, but unfortunately, he got lost during one of the hottest weeks of the year a few years ago and he’s now brain damaged. He jumps at shadows. But he’s still our boy.

Rugby was our accidental cat. My parents went out of town during my senior year in high school and left me in charge of my little brother. We’d gone to the grocery store and a guy was giving out kittens in front. After discussing it with each other for two seconds, we took him home. We told our parents that we found him in front of the convenience store, they made empty threats about giving him away, and after my mom fell in love with him, he stayed. He’s about ten now, but still playful and very sweet. He loves to sit behind anyone on the sofa and nuzzle their hair.

Oscar and Emmy are the two Wonder Cats ™. My roommate and I adopted them in Brooklyn from the North Shore Animal League. It’s a long story, but we almost didn’t get them. I consider it fate that we did - because they are two of the best cats in the world. They are incredibly spoiled, but they’re also very sweet and lovable. They’ll be moving in with me and my fiance in a few weeks, so we’ll see how that goes. Oscar has a bad habit of getting very jealous of my fiance, so he jumps in between us when we’re in bed and stretches out longways, forcing us to move further and further apart.

I’m also dog-aunt to a couple of gorgeous dogs - Nalla is a husky/malamute mix and Simba is a mix of Nalla and a golden retriever. Nalla’s stubborn and Simba is the most sweet-natured dog you will ever meet.

Ava