The fondest memories that I have of my childhood involve my pets. I was lucky enough to grow up in a house that had a huge backyard–and in my early years, the wandering landscape of that backyard played host to creatures of all types, shapes and sizes. Over the years, my sister and I were the proud guardians of tortoises, rabbits, cats, a dog and a duck. Here I am, in fact, with Fuzzy the Duck:
My first dog was a Keeshond / Shepherd mix named Sylvia-Fang. Sylvia because my mom and sister wanted to name her after the Queen of Sweden, and Fang because my dad and I wanted to name her Fang. The poor thing never really knew what the heck her name was. Here I am giving her a bath… sort of…
And here she is sleeping next to my first VERY OWN cat, Nome. I felt that “Nome” was a very clever name because it was not only a homophone for the word “Gnome,” but also because it was the result of smushing “no” and “name” together. Did I say clever? Ah yes, I did. How clever.
Nome was not our first cat–we had a cat named Troll as well, and she was certainly a purrominent member of the family, but my parents got her shortly after I was born, and so I don’t really remember her that clearly. What I do remember about her was the hissing and the attitude. She was not one to mess with.
What about your first pet? Your first dog? Your first cat? Share your memories of your first pet(s) in the comments! And if you’d like to include a link to pictures (if you have them) please do. Or, add them to our Snuzzilicious group on Flickr, and then come back here and post the link in the comments. I can’t wait to hear about your first pet!
[THIS JUST IN: Hit the brakes! Wait! Errrrrrt! (That's the sound of my tires screeching on the asphalt...) If you want to add an image in your comment, you may now do so using html <img src> tags! That's right, just use the html <img src="http://webaddress_where_img_lives" / > like Ted did for his picture of Sparky. Go fur it!!]
Here’s me and Sparky. He was my best pal growing up
I’ve written about Sparky a couple times.
We used to have to share the hatchback
We got chased by one angry swan! I’m still scared of them
My first dog was Nikki. She was a pomeranian that I had for a few years. I got her at age six,maybe younger. She was a sweet dog and she loved peanut butter. Sadly,she was stolen.
My first cat was Snowball. He was this ball of white and he had very pretty,emerald eyes. He was friendly and sweet. He was lost to old age. We got him when he was already a couple of years old from someone who couldn’t keep him anymore.
Doobie was my first cat…he was given to me as a “tip” from a customer in a restaurant i worked in. Doobie was about 5 weeks old, adopted from the shelter for $5.00. I was 22 years old at the time. He used to fetch…and sit…and flush the toilet CONSTANTLY. He was always by my side. I know he hung in there just for me…he had alot of health problems in the end. He died a week after his 19th birthday. It’s been almost 2 years since he died…but I had him half of my life, and he was my best friend. I feel like a part of me died when he did.
I had a dog named Patches. He was a basset Hound beagle mix. I loved that dog. He was a good friend, a great listener and always ready to play. He got lost in the big move. I still have yet to forgive my mom for losing him. When I was really little we had a Great Dane / German Shepard mix and there was a tornado coming and I wouldn’t leave the dog. I crawled in the dog house with him. I have a few favorite cats over the years. There is no secrets in my love for the feline persuasion. Kenneth, October, Winta, Misty, Blackie.. To ask me to pick one is almost impossible.
Our first dog was a long-haired miniature Dachshund just like the four we have now. He was a black-and-tan, the commonest colouring around at the time. We had looked after a red one, named Simba, for my husband’s boss and had never seen a long-haired one before (never mind a red one) so when the boss offered us this little fellow, for $30, we didn’t have to think long before saying yes. I’m not sure of the reasons why the boss didn’t want Nicky, but I think he had been a gift to the boss’s girlfriend and there had been a break-up (not surprising since the boss was already married!) At first we were disappointed because Nicky (not the Nicky on my Dogster page) wasn’t red like Simba and his coat tended to be harsh. We didn’t realise this was because he was “out of condition” but even when brought into good condition Nicky never managed to attain the soft cat-like coat of our later dogs. Then when I had to go back to work we bought a mate for Nicky (a red one) to keep him company. He also is not featured on my Dogster page. But the absolute delight that two dogs bring was our undoing. We soon landed up with three (for which we had to apply for a dispensation from our local council). Then we were offered another one (Sanneke) because her breeder didn’t want to put her through a Caesarian again. It’s just as well by the time we reached four we had moved to the country, living on five acres. When our second Nicky died (quickly followed by our other black-and-tan, Jezika) we found we hated being without a black-and-tan and a long search brought us Jessika. You can see my dogs here on Dogster or on my web site at http://labarker.com/personal/dogs.html
My first pet that was mine alone that i did not have to share was a black lab border collie mix named Brandy. My cousins boyfriend gave him to me when i was 10 he was my best friend. He loved to sleep in my large doll cradle with his head on the pillow and would pull the blanket up over his body as a puppy. He was so smart would protect me from everyone whether it was needed or not. Not sure what he would have done had someone called his bluff. I was super upset when he got out and got hit by an oil truck at 3 years old. We have had many pets but none can replace your first pet.
My first act was Precious, a lilac-point Siamese with a bad temper who was a gift for my third birthday. Wow, was that a bad idea. Anyway, I named her myself. She used to hide under my mom’s bed and I would lay on the floor calling to her. She didn’t come.
My first real cat was George, who was black with white paws. He was a great cat, and I loved him dearly. Once, my dad brought him to the hospital to see me when I was sick, and that was the highlight of my time there.
My first Coon Cat was Lola, whi showed up one might with the pizza delivery guy. She was such an excellent cat with a gorgeous tricolor coat, and like many Coons she was devoted to me. She was also a little devious. One time I had her on a plane, neatly stowed under the seat in front of me, and I fell asleep. When I woke up she was sitting in my seatmate’s lap. He swore she got out of her carrier on her own.
My fist kitty was a gray baby -part of a litter that a friend of my parents had found in the woods.
I was smitten from the start although my mother had wanted an orange kitten. I loved that sweet girl from the start- I named her Mopsy from the “Tales of Peter Rabbit” and she remained my closest friend till she died at age 19.
I have since had and have 8 kitties- all wonderful- but I will never forget my first kitty.
Before Noel, the stray standard poodle arrived, I was not a big fan of dogs.
It was between my Birthday (December 20th) and Christmas that this overgrown sheep of a dog wandered onto our porch and sat down.
Then she ran into the house and we had no idea what this strange beast was. So she adopted us!
An awesome dog that showed me how great dogs are.
To this day I am always happy to see Standard Poodles.
My very first cat was Fern, who I named after the little girl in “Charollette’s Web” (my favorite story growing up and is still one of my favorites now). I got Fern when I was 2 years old and she passed away in 1998, at the age of 20 1/2. She moved with me several times, the last one when I moved into my own apartment. She was a big part of my life and not a day goes by that I don’t miss her.
Well we had dogs when we were young and I always wanted a dog when I was an adult but just got one about 1 year ago. His name is Patches and we called him Patches because he is a patchwork of colors. I never KNEW I could love a dog so much – he is my baby like my son was when he was a baby. We have since got another one of the same breed – rat terrier – I love them both so much! We named the new puppy Spicey Girl because she is so feisy and has a lot of spice to her.
My first dog was a collie named Shep. He was my protector, my friend, and my constant companion for the entire 12 years he spent being adored by us. i have had collies my entire life, until three years ago, when we treated ourselves to Spike, our maltipoo. He is a treat , and we love him with all our hearts. There will always be a special place in my heart for Shep .
Stephan was my first hairless donskoy cat. He needed to be adopted from a lady in Detroit although Stephan was born in Russia. It was love at first sight for both of us. A year ago Stephan was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor. About a month ago he started having symptoms and his ongologist has him on special meds but only gives Stephan another 3 months of life yet. He is the most loving friend I have and will be devastated when his time comes.
My first pet was a handsome black and white cat, whom I named Manners, after the Manners Big Boy restaurant that was in the Cleveland area back then. Manny, as I soon started calling him, was my 7th birthday present. He and I grew very close, almost like brother & sister.
My first memory of a dog was a sheltie mix named Prescious. I remember that dog and I were always getting into trouble. She would follow me everywhere and without fail one of us would get into trouble with my mom. Prescious really bad habit was eating chapstick. You couldn’t leave a tube of that stuff within her site. She was my first memory of a loyal friend.
i have never had a dog until 2 months ago. Dakota came into my life and she has really changed my days! she’s a bull terrier, very playful and lovely…
My first pet was a pure black cat I proudly named, Blackie. He was a full grown stray and not fixed so he tended to wander, but after many weeks of earning his trust, he was mine and he only responded to me. My brother didn’t like him and had a bb gun and one day he shot him in the eye. He was then blind in that one eye, but that didn’t change the fact that I still loved him.
One day he came in with a broken leg. My grandfather *with whom I was raised* would not and could not afford to take him to a vet. Back then we did what we could to take care of our animals ourselves. I desperately tried to splint his leg with popsicle sticks and tape. It worked for a week or so but then because he was a wanderlust, it failed. He walked with a limp till he finally passed on, and to this day I still remember him, standing in front of the window with him in my arms, and my grandfather telling me to get the cat out of the house and get away from the window cuz the cat would draw the lightning.
He was very dear to my heart and I will never forget my “forever friend”. From then on I have always had at least one cat and now have eight whom I love with all my heart. They’re very spoiled, but I wouldn’t trade a one of them for anything.
My first pet was given to me in a Christmas stocking…my scottie dog. I named her Tiny as all I could see was the stocking wiggling around. She was a smart dog and never on a leash. She knew hand and verbal commands and names of every one of her toys. I am now on my 4th dog and all my dogs were great. I must have been lucky in life to get smart, devoted dogs.
I was five and plunked in front of the TV when all of a sudden I was nudged and given a quick wet kiss. The black puppy sat down and leaned on me and I knew we would be friends. Snoopy became the perfect playmate for an only child. He would listen patiently when I read to him and put up with me trying to teach him how to write. We romped in the backyard and cuddled during tv time. He was my protector, my best friend and I will always remember him.
My first cat, aside from strays that we befriended as kids, is Graycie. She is now 8 years old. I was always a dog person, then my hours at work didn’t permit to walk a dog, so I got Graycie, followed 8 months later by Sofie. Both my girls are rescues, and I got them both when they were 3 months old. Graycie was the impetus to get another cat, because she is, and always has been, a joy, and a furry bundle of love. She is independent, and loves to have her own “space”, but once in awhile, wants to be snuggled and makes no secret about it! Both my girls are such and important part of my life and I’m so glad that I realized how wonderful cats really are!
My first cat was Fluffy Furr (Furr was her middle name) (actually the first was a scaredy cat I brought home from the neighbor’s, but we couldn’t get it to come out from hiding, so we took it back and exchanged it for it’s sister Fluffy). She was a long hair black and white… very pretty. She was indoor/outdoor. Very sweet and lovey, as far as I remember. I brought her home when I was about 6.
She wasn’t allowed on the counter, but liked to sneak up and eat the butter.
She also learned how to take popcorn off the string on the Christmas tree by pulling to then end of the string, and taught our puppy Sparky how to do it.
I entered her in a cat show with 4-H and one first prize! She was such an angel.
Unfortunately, when we moved from Kansas to Arizona we had to leave her with someone, because she didn’t like riding in the car. But she didn’t like it there and ran away. I’ve felt guilty, but know that by now she’s a real angel kitty. I still love her. I wish I had pictures to post. She was very pretty.
My first kitty that was all my own was Midnight. When I was 7, my mom and I were housesitting for my grandparents for 4 months. My Great-Grandma lived in the lot next to my grandparents with an apple orchard. Great-Grandma called to say there was a kitten stuck on her roof! It was raining very very hard. We came over, got the kitten down and fed her some of my Grandma’s kitty’s food. . The kitten had a terrible cold and a collar. She was all black. My mom decided she didn’t care and we kept the kitty. I had lots of great adventures with my Midy! Anything from launching her in the rocking chair to flying her home to my mother when I was in college. And she just passed away a few years ago and the rip old age of 20! She always slept on my face! And when she lived the last 7 years with my mother in a house I never lived in, she would still yeoul for me after every visit I made – looking for me. I still love and miss that cat!
Penny, a minature brown-spotted dalmatian was my family’s first pet when I was a young kid. We knew nothing about puppy mills or inbreeding back then, but looking back, this was a very sad, disturbed and vicious dog with the face of an angel. The dog was constantly attacking and biting guests and tried to do that also to my sister and me.
Poor Penny, she didn’t last very long at our house. She scared us all to death, and when the dog catcher came to take her “… to a big farm where she can get lots of exercise,” I felt so relieved.
However, losing Penny made my need for a dog all the greater. I saw what might be, how they need us as much as we need them. I’ve since had many cats and dogs and all have been pure love. We only have rescue animals now, and they really know what is important in life… us!
Cheers,
Susan
these are our two maine coon cats whiskers and dani. they are completely different from each other. whiskers is very demanding of our time and dani is very self sufficient she will come to you when she wants your attention. my son and i found them inside a box out side of kmart in alma and couldn’t say no. we have had them for well over 8 yrs now. whiskers is the spoiled one she has to eat certain cat food and needs to get drinks out of the bathroom sink not out of the bowl like dani.
My first dog was a five pound St. Bernard named Prince. I was 19, just married and we lived in ONE room. Shortly thereafter I hunted down a house, my first house at 19 years of age. Every penny went to pay for it and five years later it was ours. The house was only for a yard for Prince to play in. He lived 10 years but he gave me my first interest in Real Estate. Still involved to this day. It all started with Prince, the sweetest dog on earth.
My first cat and I were not friends. Or rather, she wasn’t friends with anyone. Ella was hideous. She swatted, bit, hissed, and refused to purr. From Ella I was convinced that I was not and would never be a cat person, but after my Feline Five came along, I realized that it was just a personality.
Somehow we developed something that wasn’t quite a friendship but wasn’t quite hate. I learned, somewhere around the time I started reading the classics, that Ella liked the sound of my voice.
I sat and read to her for hours. We went through “Pride and Prejudice,” “Sense and Sensibility,” “Jane Eyre,” “The Count of Monte Cristo,” “Little Women,” and “Vilette” together.
She died two years ago.
Ella was my sounding board and I did love her despite the power of her claws. She was like a Victorian grandmother and I know it sounds crazy but I don’t think Ella hated me. She just loved in her own way, which meant I needed to keep assured clear distance.
Lily Locke,
Blogbean, Adventures in Cat Philanthropy
My first dog was actually there before I was! Rocky was dumped in a box in an alley with the rest of his brothers and sisters. My parents rescued them and found homes for all of the puppies–keeping a cute little black one with white paws and a patch on his chest for themselves. Rocky was part Labrador and part German Shephard (we think). Regardless, he was my best buddy. He was my very own playmate, horsey and best friend. He was an amazing athlete, jumping 6 feet in the air to catch a frisbee. He was protective of us when strangers came by and he was loyal. Although he and my dad both moved out we got to see him nearly every day. He lived to be over 14 years old! I miss Rocky to this day and he will always have a special place in my heart.
Pup remained “Pup” all of his 13 years. My dad got him from a man who rode to work with him–for 35 cents. He was a collie-shepherd mix and was very loyal and protective. My brothers could not play football with the neighbor kids when Pup was around because the dog thought the boys were being hurt when they were tackled. We lived on a farm and one time my brothers were treed by a young bull. Pup went to the house and got Mother to rescue them. I have had many wonderful dogs (I’m 75) including Biscuit, a shelter dog that I have now, but memories of Pup will always be special.
My first cat was Muffin. She was with me through my childhood to my early teens. Although she spent most of her time outdoors, she always made sure she was home in time to sleep with me at night. Her favorite place to sleep was on my chest or somewhere close to my head. She probably liked to hear me breath as much as I loved to hear her purr. I loved having the responsibility of taken care of her and she recipricated those feelings. It was hard when she died. The dangers of the outdoors took her from me. That was a lesson I took with me. Now I have Dexter, my INDOOR cat. A lot of what I loved in Muffin, I love in him! Muffin is gone, but she will never be forgotten.
The first cat I remember as really being mine was a black cat I named Winkie, from the Witch Mountain movies. I’d gotten off the bus from school and heard a cat meowing in the brush by the road. I was about 10 years old and here I go diving into the bushes and brambles to find this tiny black kitten. I kept him hidden in what would be my bedroom in the house my family was building. I don’t remember how long it was until my mama found out. But we had cats and dogs all over the place so it wasn’t a huge deal. My memories from childhood are very faint so I don’t know what happened to him, but I know I loved him. I think Winkie was my very favourite as a kid and that’s where I got my love of black kitties.
MY first dog was Brandy, a dachsund/cocker spaniel mix. I got her for my 15th birthday. I came home from school and there she was sleeping on my bed. I was thrilled!! Spaying wasn’t as prominent in smaller communities back then, so there were four litters of puppies from her. And, as it was bloody impossible to keep her INSIDE the fenced yard, she ended up being killed by a car. But she gave me my darling Henry. He’s the doggy angel listed in my family.
Tinkerbell, an Apple head Siamese, came into our life when I was 7. Friends of the family bred their siamese and she got milk fever when the kits were only weeks old, s she came to us early. Being 7, I named her after the fairy, of course. Stinkersmell grew near 20lbs, and was my velcro cat. We’d play for hours; her under the plastic runners, batting at me & thinking she was hidden. Me carrying her in the skirt of my ‘jammies. I would sleep on my side, my arm out to provide her a pillow, Tink’s long body along my torso. I was never alone from 7 to 24, with my Tinker by my side. 18 years of unconditional love.
I got my first cat when I was 11, and I named him Smokey because he was… smokey coloured. Lol very original. I loved him to bits though, and he was a very gentle boy.
His first photo:
Some people thought he was stupid, but I always said he was just very laid back. He wasn’t overly cuddly, but he didn’t mind me picking him up and carrying him around from time to time. He preferred people to rub his head with their foot while he lounged on the floor. He didn’t mind a tummy rub either. The only time he ever scratched me was accidental – he got frightened by a passing car. He was a sweet fella.
Smokey when he was a couple of years old:
http://files.dogster.com/pix/cats/47/306847/306847_1146322863.jpg
He died of old age at 16, which was about 5 years ago now. He had a good healthy life while it lasted though. :) I still miss him!
My first dog was a doxie mx. Her name was Tinka, my stepfather is German so, that’s how she got her name. She would play with us in the park, go down the slide, drink out of the drinking fountin. She was an escape artist and would go to the park, we could not catch her, but she sure wanted to be with us all the time. She slept with us. She kept us very warm..she lived 17 yrs, which was pretty amazing. I really loved her and was alot of fun when I was a child.
My first dog was Skamper. She was a standard sized poodle. I remember how she loved the water. We’d go to Sabino Canyon to spend the day by the river and we’d float our toy boats and she’d have to splash around beside us. She was patient with us when we were little and would bonk her with pots and pans (until mom would catch us and make us stop).
My first cat I didn’t get until I was 18. I had always wanted a cat but my parents were dog people. We came home one day and there was a little kitten inside our yard no bigger then the palm of my hand. We think someone dumped him there becuz he was too little to have wandered away from home. He was an orange and white Maine Coone. I remember he had the most gorgeous tail that reminded me of a foxes tail. We named him Squeeky becuz he couldn’t meow, he only squeeked. Even as a full grown cat he couldn’t meow. He was MY cat. His litter box was in my room and I was the one that cared for him the most. When I moved away from home, he came with me. I moved in with my husband and his cat Kegger. The two of them hated each other for awhile but then grew to become the best of friends. They were so close that when Squeeky died, Kegger wasted away and died within the next year. I gave birth to my first son and he became Kris’ cat. He loved to sleep in Kris’ bed, curled up on the pillow beside him. He even patiently endured being sprayed with Armor-All one time (tho the bath afterwards was not something he enjoyed).
There he was Tiger, a male white and orange cat. I was eight and living in Ardmore Oklahoma. No more dolls. There were no digital cameras back then, I have just a few pictures of me or mom holding him. Me and my sister in dress that a beautiful elderly aunt made us. She was the perfect seamstress.
That was 45 yeats ago. I think of him. Life was purfect inso many ways. See you in heaven one day Auntie and Tiger. Julie
Roo (Roxanne) I got her from a shelter in Seattle, some creep had cut out her vocal cords. She was already 7 when I got her and I don’t know what made me pick her out of all the other dogs. But from the time we saw each other I knew that she was my dog. I had her til she was 14 when she died of a stroke.She went everywhere with me and I’ll miss her til the day I die.
Our first pet was a chicken that my then-12-year-old sister named Cheep-Cheep. Not very imaginative, I know–but this was the 1950s. My brother was 8 and I was 4. We found “Cheepie” one Sunday afternoon when we were picking wildflowers and saw a flash of white skittering through the bluebonnets. Apparently, she was one of those Easter chicks they used to dye bright colors and sell by the thousands. Her white feathers were tinged with magenta dye. Someone had probably abandoned her as soon as she outgrew her cuteness. We’d never had a pet and begged our parents to let us keep the chicken. Our Dad built a coop for her, but often we’d let her graze in the back yard. Cheep-Cheep grew very tame, would follow us around, answered when called, and even “played volleyball” by jumping on the ball when it was rolled to her and “walking” it across an imaginary net. We probably shouldn’t have done it, but we sometimes gave her table scraps in addition to her usual chicken feed. She especially liked mashed potatoes, fudge, and (unfortunately) Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. Best of all, Cheepie laid at least one egg a day, and sometimes two when she was feeling ambitious–enough for our family’s Sunday breakfast. Her eggs were prized for their size, rich yellow color, and freshness. Sadly, Cheep-Cheep lived only 5 years. The last couple of years of her life, she developed a weird habit of molting (losing all of her feathers) in the middle of winter. And since our Mom would not let us keep a chicken in the house, Cheepie froze to death in December 1964, and we buried her behind the garage.
the first pet i ever remember havin was a pony…well i had a dog too, but i dont really remember havin that dog till i was much older…i got this pony, named Flicka, for christmas… she was tied to the fence with a big red ribbon around her neck. i loved her dearly, but sadly she passed away from pnemonia after only having her for too short of a time. i do not have a picture of her at the moment to access, but i remember that she was a bay, with a black man and tail, white on her legs, and a white stripe down the middle of her face. she was very shaggy, and the first horse in a string of many that i have own. i still miss her to this day
Although Sammy wasn’t my first cat, (I had had 2 before her and several after) she was the love of my life. I received Sam (short for Samantha) when I was 15 a few months after my 19 yr old dog died. I was distraught from the loss of pepi ( my poodle I adopted from the dog pound when I was 7 years old)and my mother knew a woman at her work who’s cat had had a litter of kittens a few weeks before. My mother and aunt told me they were going out to buy a plunger for the bathroom but instead dropped a tiny brown and white kitten in my lap saying “heres your plunger”. Sam was the most cuddly cat Ive ever known. She would greet me at the door and promptly jump into my lap as soon as I sat down. She didn’t meow, she mooed like a cow, so I called mer “Moo”. She didn’t have a mean bone in her whole fat little body. When I moved away from home at 22 and got married, Sammy came with, much to the chagrin of my husband. He had never owned a cat before and wasn’t sure how she would get along with his dog. Needless to say, Sam loved his dog and his dog loved Sam. After many years, Sam got sick and at the age of 16 died in my arms from renal failure. I knew she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. She’s been gone now for 6 years and I miss her every day. I know I can never find a cat like her again.
Jethro, named after Jethro Tull, was my first cat. I was an adult with love for but little experience with cats. Jethro was mostly grey with some white on his belly. He was an indoor cat that loved art. He would stare at it for hours. One evening he took a big bite off the corner of his favorite painting. Another evening, his last evening with us, he grabbed me by the ankles with his two front paws and dragged me to the door and down the stairs to the outside door. We never had taken him outside before. Why would he want to go out now? It was raining ‘cats and dogs’ out there! Pardon the pun. Jethro persisted. I relented and he went outside never to return. I was devasted. He was so special. I thought he was the smartest cat ever born. And then he went away. I loved my Jethro.
My first dog came to our house after I got into a fight with my friends and suddenly I had no friends. I think this must have been my mothers biggest fear all along, because when I asked for a dog, she readily said okay. I knew I would probably get new friends faster than the dog, so I had to act quickly to make sure the pup was selected and reserved before that would happen. I ran to the library and got out all the dog books and went through them trying to pick my breed. And there it was; the field spaniel. The book said there was only 3-4 litters born in my country each year, but I remembered one litter was advertised in our newspaper that morning. And sure enough, there was one, the runt of the litter still left. If that wasn’t fate, I don’t know what is!
It was the next weekend that our puppy arrived at our house. We went to pick her up at the breeders, and I was ecstatic. A brown floppy eared thing, the cutest creature ever lived. There was a lot of other fieldies around, but only had eyes for this one, My First Dog. I remember clearly sitting in the front seat with her in my lap with my little brother snugly wedged between the front seats trying to see the puppy and come up with a name for her. I liked Hazel, her registered name, but he suggested Nut, and that’s the name she went by from there.
Nussen was my first dog she was a Samoyed, my family had her when I was born. We were pals! She would let me lay on her, and ride her like a horse when I was a kid. When my sister and I were in the backyard she would stay out there the whole time. When both my sister and I were babies she would lay by our bassinets at night. When I was in put in my own room, since I was the baby she started sleeping in the hall way to protect everybody. Nussen was an awesome dog! When I was a kid I would sneak her cookies all the time. We lost her when I was seven years old, to and infection that was in her gums that spread to her heart, she was twelve. To this day though our family talks about her, and what a great dog she was. We love our dogs with all our heart, but Nussen was a first dog for both my parents, and for my sister and I. She was a great first dog.
When I was a kid, I always wanted a cat, but my mother wouldn’t let me have one — she had never liked them and thought they were sneaky and smelly. Therefore, I was really surprised when, during a weekend at my aunt’s house when I was about 14 or 15, I got a phone call from my mother asking what I’d think about getting a kitten. After my initial shocked response (”Who are you and what have you done with my mother?”), she told me that she and her boyfriend George had been feeding a stray cat near his house, and that cat had just had kittens, and George really wanted her to take one in. (Why he couldn’t take it himself would make this long story even longer.) So anyway, once they asked my opinion, needless to say she was outvoted, and that’s how we got Spunky. My mother named him that because he bit George when they tried to catch him.
He was a few months old when we took him in, and he was one of the most skittish cats I’ve ever seen (belying his name). It took a lot of time and patience, but after a while he grew to love the three of us, although he’d hide whenever anyone else came into our house. He spent a lot of time hanging out with me all through my high school years.
When I went to college, my mother said, “I’ll keep Spunky until you graduate, but then you’re taking him.” So four years later, just before my graduation, I said to her, “Okay, I’ll be able to take my cat soon.” To which she replied, “MY cat!” With me away most of the time, my mother had gotten very attached to Spunky, and she had him until only a few years ago when he died of cancer. (She has since adopted two other kitties; her transition from cat hater to cat lover is long since complete.)
My first cat was a white DSH. I was about 6 years old, and we had just moved to our farm in Oregon. My mother took the feral barn cats to the Humane Society and came home with this little white fluffball. We took him to show the neighbors, and after much discussion, he was named Puff. He lived on the farm with us until we moved when I was in high school, then stayed on with the new owners until he passed on to the Bridge. I’ve had many cats since, but I’ll never forget Puff!
SUKI
By Cherie Fruge
© 24 November 1992
Gold-eyed vixen, haughty stare.
Regal, prideful, sitting there;
None questioned your authority to reign.
When first you came I called you mine,
But soon you taught me your design;
‘Twas I who was the servant to the Queen.
You entertained me when you chose,
Or just as promptly, flipped your nose;
And stalked away, you said, “to be alone.”
But sometimes when the rain would fall,
And thunder raced you down the hall,
You’d cuddle close, and talk to me of love.
I often called you nuisance, pest.
But in my heart, I loved you best;
I thought our time together was still young.
Yet while I held you in my arms,
My heart out-racing all alarms,
I felt you slip away from me in death.
I always thought if one could say
Goodbye, the pain could fade away -
Untrue – I miss you still, my gold-eyed vixen cat.
Suki died 21 November 1992 at 8:45 am,
in my arms. She was only 5 1/2.
Some of my memories of my very first cat are treasured through black and white photographs.
The first, is a shot of myself at two years old, I’m wearing those one piece footed “jammies” and I’m crouched over on the floor watching Bootsie eat her dinner. I was amazed.
In another photograph, at age 3, I am sitting besides Bootsie intently “reading” a book to her, she seemed somewhat amused by my imagination and storytelling abilities, something I still do with my current cats, they just look at me with a weird sort of look – I digress.
It was well known that Bootsie wasn’t your typical cat, she was known to bite if anyone even thought of holding her…. but I in my childhood wisdom, I did not let that stand in the way of playtime… so I devised a blanket harness to carry Bootsie in and oddly enough she tolerated bonnets and being carted around in my doll carriage. Totally out of character.
Bootsie lived to a wonderful old age, but one day when my father and I moved, she ran away to a patch of forest, the forest is long gone and so is Bootsie but her spirit lives on. I love you Bootsie.
My first dog was Clicker. He was a gorgeous black lab.
I saw an ad in the paper for blk lab pups, free to a good home (1981) and I told my mom I saw an add for cocker spaniel puppies – FREE. I told her if could please have one, I had a ride to go pick it up. I thought this way, by the time he was HUGE, they couldn’t and wouldn’t mind.
Come to find out, my mom sees the phone number I called and recognized it. She said that’s my friend’s phone number and if I recall, they have labs!
Nice…………….but we got to go see the pups as a family and I picked out one of the best friends anyone could ever have.
He went through all kinds of life events with me. Graduating high school, getting married etc He got cancer at 12 and we had to say goodbye, but I will never forget my best buddy!
I was 23 years old and living in Chaos when The universe blessed me with Cinder. A friend had rescued his brother Ty (he worked with a man whose ex-wife’s dog had puppies that she couldn’t afford and was taking to the pound – what my friend called next stop shopping for death.) He begged me to look at the dog, I said no, I can’t take care of myself I’m not taking care of a dog. Then a horrible night happened and the next day I said, why not. When the woman opened the gate he came running up to see me and flopped on his back so I could rub his belly (mother was a full blood chow, father HAD to be Golden Retriever.) From that moment on – we were soul mates. I named him Cinder after a character in a video game I played (he was born all white, then got streaks of red and gold that turned into a full gold with light belly.) He taught me a lot over the decade I was blessed with him from patience, to quit smoking, and just a general sensation that all will be well. He passed on June 1st 2007, he was my first, possibly my last, and will always hold a special place with me.
My first dog is currently still alive and well he is the greatest dog ever and well max is great becasue i adopted him from a shelter and well he loved to be mine
My heart goes out to those of you who have, along with the beautiful memories of that first pet, unavoidably sad memories. My first pet was a little black cat I named Tammy. I got the name “Tammy” after hearing Debbie Reynolds sing the song from the movie, “Tammy and the Bachelor.” This would make me only around 3 or 4 years old, since the movie came out in 1957. I remember that I loved that cat, but one day, my father told me in a less-than-compassionate way, that Tammy had been run over. We are natives of Washington, DC, and I remember that he put Tammy in a bag and dropped her body into the Potomac River (with me in attendance.). At that age, a child does not understand death, and to this day, I feel sick when I remember this. I write this to let others know that you are not alone in these bittersweet memories, and that even at that tender age, I remember looking up at the stars the night I lost Tammy and knowing, with a child’s wisdom, that she was in Heaven, and that I would see her again someday.
My first best friend’s name was Tigger. i got her when I move from NJ to MO. she originally belonged to one of the roomates bus she and I took up a bond from day one. When Richard moved home to KC, KS, I guess she became very naughty, and Richard called me up and asked me if I wanted the B%^&(! Back! of course I did. The moment he put her down she came running to me, it felt so good! we were never seperated again, moving cross country, she would sit and sleep in my lap, motel rooms, always talking, thinking I was talking to her…She passed at 21, a year ago this past Thanksgiving morning, while in my arms. I knew that her time was comming, so the previous night and the night before she was taken, she actually stayed on my chest all night. I guess that’s how I knew, she knew. It was the most difficult moments of my life, but also the calmest. I got to talk to her, and keep her calm, while a siezure finally ended her life. I cry to this day missing her, and I am in the process of having a tatoo done in her honor,with tiny paw prints across my heart. I will always have other kitties, but she was my girl, and I look foward to the day we are reunited forever.
my cats are the greatest. Ashes is my oldest cat and well she acts like a kitten even though she is the oldest and well we have had her since she was 8 weeks old. Cuddles well she is a awsome cat. i rescued her from outside my house and well she now is a fat happy cat with the purrs to prove it. I love both of them and it will be sad when they leave the earth
I was 2 when I got my first kitten. My grandmother said I was afraid of cats & dogs. Funny thing was I lived on a farm. A neighbor had a litter of kittens my grandfather went & got a little orange one. My grandmother said she would hold it & put my hand on it. Well it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with her. I named her MS Muffet after a kitten in a story book. She was a inside outside cat & had many litters of kittens. At the time who knew about spaying or Vets for that matter for a cat. I still remember her sweet face & how she loved to brush up against your legs. Ms Muffet lived to be 13 a good age for a cat that never saw a Vet or had a shot. I now have 5 cats & 2 dogs all inside only spayed or neutered. What did my sweet Grandmother do!!!! One very important thing I forgot to tell you all is as a kitten she got caught in a thrashing machine & cut 3 of her legs. My Grand father took out his pocket knife cut one leg off, half of another & part of the other paw. He then poured caroscene on them. Hard to believe but it is true.
For my birthday a few years ago I decided to gift myself the best gift ever…her name is Maeve. She’s an orange and white short hair, my Irish lass. She’s the sweetest, most loving animal and she’s definately a Mommy’s girl. When I was younger I was very allergic to cats but always wanted one…as I grew old the allergy became less and less…now I’m blessed with two amazing girls. Maeve and Creole are sisters in every sense of the word..they curl up together, they get into trouble together and they do fight on occasion. They make me happy and I love knowing that I may not know the mess I’m coming home to but I do love knowing I’m coming home to them….
My mother never allowed me to have pets growing up however my grandfather lived on a farm out at Samford and had many animals. He took me out one afternoon for a drive and explained that he was going to buy a cat. Me replying ‘why do you want a cat, you should get a dog’. As when we pulled up at our destination, a little girl ran out of the house and onto the driveway and greeted us with ‘we have puppies’. Grandad had tricked me. I picked the fattest puppy out of the bunch. I named him Rocky because I thought the dogs were called Rockweilers not Rottweilers haha. He lived with Grandad his whole life however whenver I visited Grandad always said he was my dog while I was there. I’ll never forget him!
My frist pet was a all gray kitty, she was so small she fit right in the palm of my hand. I fell in love with her right a away. How I found her was I was at a family outing and someone brought her to me and said they frond her in a DUMSTER, someone threw her away. I took her home and bottle fed her every two houres. When it was time to take her to the Vet he said she had FELUKE I was devastated , he said she wouldn’t live long and i should put her to sleep, and I said NO WAY. I took her home and gave her all the love i had to give her. She lived for 12 years, they were the best years for me. I Loved her very much. I think of her every day. I know she is up in kitty heaven waiting for me to come to her. I miss my baby very much.
Mommy’s first cat was Jingles. Mommy was eight years old when she saw Jingles in the Emporium’s pet department in San Francisco in 1959. A sign on her cage said she was a “Russian Blue” (She was gray with a white star on her chest), and she cost all of two dollars! AND the pet store delivered her to Mommy’s house at no extra charge! Jingles got scared while riding in the car to her new home and had a bathroom accident, so she needed a bath right away. Mommy really, really loved Jingles (who purred and kneaded a lot), but she had a bad case of fleas….(This was back in the days before flea collars, Frontline, flea bombs for the house, etc.) and Mommy was really allergic. No matter how much flea powder Grandma used or how many flea baths Jingles had, there was just no getting rid of those nasty fleas. So Grandpa said that Jingles had to go. Grandma packed up Jingles’ food dishes, scratching posts, and all of her toys, and took her to Pets Unlimited which was already a no-kill shelter fifty years ago. My mommy still remembers crying when her mom dropped her off at school that morning with Jingles in the car, on her way to Pets Unlimited, because she knew she would never see Jingles again. It was a very sad day. But the people at Pets Unlimited assured my mommy’s mom that they would call her if Jingles didn’t find a home very soon…and they never called. Mommy hopes that Jingles lived a long and happy life. She didn’t get another kitty for about four more years, but there were no flea problems with any of the kitties that came after Jingles. Or maybe Mommy had outgrown her fleabite allergy by then. Mommy has had many, many cats in the past 50 years, but she will never ever forget her beautiful first kitty Jingles.
We had a couple dogs before Sheba, but she was the one I remember the most. She spent 13 wonderful years with us. The best of those years were the ones she spent with me. I was moving into my first home and didn’t want to live alone, so my dad let me take her with me. Although she was shy, she was very talented. Her hide and seek trick won 2nd place in a talent contest!
My first cat that I actually owned was Ruby, a black kitten from a farm. I was around 4-5ish, and the ‘all black kitten’ characteristic was extremely important. The first night, Ruby was just a cute little kitten who played with us and was cute. Afterwords, though, was a whole ‘nother story. Having not been spayed OR declawed, the ‘cute fuzzball’ wreaked havoc in a variety of different ways. She climbed the curtains, destroyed the furniture, and caused me to cry on a variety of occasions. Once, when my grandma came to visit, Ruby jumped up and gave her three large scratch marks on her cheeks! Talk about a welcome back present. I remember holding the kitten for 2 hours in my arms as she slept, and when I put her in her bed she got up and started running around again. This story does have a happy ending, though, as we took her back to the farm where, last I have heard, she is the best mouser in town. Figures!
I guess I’ve had pets all my life but the pet that I feel was MY first pet was a cat named Wizard. I was around 13 years old and my life was a mess. I had just moved to live with my grandmother cause there was nowhere else to go and I had no possessions left in the world. I was very withdrawn and depressed. About the fifth day, my grandmother went to let her two dogs out that morning when she noticed a small tabby tuxedo kitten sitting next to her car in the driveway. She kept the dogs in and went to see the kitten. It sat there and when she went to pick it up, it hissed and scratched her. She brought the very angry kitten into the bedroom to show me. When she stepped into the room, she said the kitten stopped being angry and started to purr. She put it on the bed and it immediately came over to my pillow and curled up and went to sleep. I kept him for several years and he was my confidant and best friend then. He is still terribly missed.
the first cat i can remembe is Cali. she was a short-haired, mostly white calico cat. she had random spots of color on her ears, face, back, and tail. for the longest time, my dad was the only one who could touch her. she was once a feral cat in our small town of under 600, before she came across our “shelter”. we had a couple outside cats (we’ve fed so many strays, that i can’t remember which were ours and which just showed up.), so she could get into their food. after some time, the rest of us could pet her when she was eating. it took lots of pursuading, but she would finally associate with us without food in the mix not long before she disappeared. i was only about 3, give or take a year. i’m 19 now, but i think i might always remember her.
Skipper, a shepherd/collie was my first dog who came to our house the year I was born.
What I don’t remember is that when a rattlesnake crawled into my sandbox when I was three and was ready to strike, Skipper jumped in and killed the snake, getting bit on the nose for his bravery. One vet said he couldn’t be saved, but my dad said no way he’d give up and another vet saved Skipper.
We lived in a mountain area and coyotes tended to hang out in our back yard, asking Skipper to run with them. Which he did until his “operation”. Then it wasn’t as much fun for him.
And he believed he was supposed to ride shotgun in the car. No way was I allowed to sit in the front passenger seat and he let me know!
Skipper was warm, loving, playful and my canine hero.
I’ve always had dogs and have loved them all, but how many dogs battle a rattlesnake to save your life and insist you ride in the backseat?
Sadly, he was hit by a car when I was 9 and I cried all night because this time he couldn’t be saved.
Everyone needs a Skipper in their life.
Linda
I’ll never forget the first time I saw Sam. She came trotting though a light snow right toward me. Snowflakes clung to her black-and-tan wire hair coat.
“What a cute little dog,” I said, and reached down to pet her.
“You can’t have it,” my mother said, reacting, I am sure, to the obvious overtones of longing in my voice.
My folks were building a new house in the neighborhood, so I spent a great deal of time hanging around with nothing much to do but climb trees and hike, or dig holes looking for bits of old indian pottery. But I had a constant companion: Sam, named so because the kids who lived nearby had mistaken her for a boy.
By the time we moved into our newly completed house, it was clear that Sam was mine. She had chosen me! She even left her footprints in the wet concrete of the back doorstep. She accompanied me as I trekked across the Valley we lived in on my pony. She caught grasshoppers for the sheer joy of it and performed wonderful tricks on my delighted command. I remember her hanging, swinging by her teeth from the jowls of the great dane who foolishly growled at me.
She was, I thought, and still think, the finest, the best terrier ever. Just the dog for a girl like me.
My first kitty kat Sophie, broke my heart because when you see a cat, dog or any creature in a pound you think ” How could someone LEAVE her” I just got back from my aunts house in louisiana and she has 2 cats and 5 dogs. I REALLY wanted a cat but we lived in a apartment so my dad helped me write a proposition stating why i should have a cat, what i would do to get one, and why i wanted one. It ended up 3 days after i came from my aunts… WE GOT A CAT!!!! Sophie is a VERY lazy cat and she is very NICE, she has never, not once hissed at anyone since we got her. I love my cat with all my heart!!!!!! Thank you for hearing my story!
My first dog was Susie, a Doxie-Terrier, bought when I was 7 years old. After the passing of Doolittle, my family’s first Scottish Terrier, we all wanted another dog. Since ‘Dooey” came to the family before I did, he was really everyone else’s dog more than mine. My sister’s dress up play name was Susie. One day, when “Dooey” was getting older, my sister and I decided the next dog would have to be Susie. When my parents were ready, we went looking for a “Susie dog.” My Mom wondered what a “Susie dog” was. I said, “I’ll know it when I find her.” We visited a couple of places, and I knew her as soon as I saw her puppy Doxie-Terrier face. I said, “There’s Susie!” and she perked up. Susie couldn’t believe it when my dad was no longer in sight; she kept looking for him. When she saw him on the other side of the gate, she jumped up a few times to get his attention. Susie came home with us that afternoon and stayed until I was in college, when old age took her. She played dress-up, was the “star” of many a childhood production, and even “talked” on the phone when my sister and I went to college (or so my Mom claims). My Dad credits her nursing skills as part of the reason why his rehab from heart surgery was weeks shorter than the medical staff anticipated. Many and memorable are the adventures we had with Susie, and none of us will ever forget our lovable family pup.
My very first angel was Winkerbean. And oh how I miss him. I ♥ you Weanie.
My first dog was a German Shepherd/collie mix named Hobo. He was about 2 when we got him. He had been living as a “hobo” before he was rescued by my grandmother’s neighbor. But he already had 3 dogs, so he gave Hobo to my parents.
He was the best dog ever. He knew sit, stay, down, come, give paw, speak, say “please” (he growled), and roll over (although he cheated sometimes).
He would snuffle in the snow (shove his nose around in it, and then stand up and fling the snow back over his head), and he would chase balls for hours. Then he’d fall asleep with his squeaky toy tucked under his chin.
He devotedly slept at my dad’s feet every night. He acted like a puppy until three days before he passed from heart failure at age 17.
It all comes full Circle.
Newton came into my life on February 14th 1996. He did so because a friend of a friend had to give him up due to her son’s severe allergies . She told me all about his shortcomings. She warned me he was a biter. She explained his identity crisis, he wants to be a dog!. She even advised me he likes to eat, a lot! One thing she also said was “He is not a lap cat.”
For the first week we got him I didn’t see him. He hid. I wondered if he was not happy with his new home, or if he just didn’t like us. I, however, had more important things to worry about at that time.
Then, exactly one week after he had moved in, the dreaded phone call came. My father passed away. I was all by myself sobbing, harder than I have ever sobbed before when suddenly out of nowhere came Newton. I was surprised to see him and even more surprised when he climbed on to my lap. He purred quite loudly and rubbed his face on mine. I petted him for the first time and felt a bond with him right away. This little kitty who avoided me for a week just did a very compassionate thing. He comforted me when I thought I was all alone. I knew then I wanted him as a friend for life.
I found out on Friday he has cancer and will not survive. What we originally thought was a case of Hypoglycemia actually turned out to be severe pain. He will be euthanized on Monday to prevent anymore suffering. He’s had enough.
I have had a plethora of tears the last few days. And he, he is having a hard time moving around. Mostly, my little Newty lays down. It is very hard to watch him move as it is obviously very uncomfortable for him. He seems to move only for necessities.
Both Meg and I have tried sitting with him. To be with him in our time of grief and so he doesn’t feel alone in his pain. He, however, wants to be alone. It makes him visibly angry for us to be there. We have since decided to let him have that wish.
Last night I was again sobbing. It’s very tough to know he will be out of my life very soon. I had again thought my grief was inconsolable. And then Newton got up from where he had laid for about the previous 4 hours, to comfort me.
Words can not express how much I am going to miss my little man.
RIP Newt. Feb 14 1994-April 06 2008
Lurch was my first cat. My parents got him as a kitten a few months before I was born. We grew up together and shared all of our secrets with each other. He lived to be 22.
My first dog was Frank. I was an adult when I rescued him from being chained to a stump and eating garbage. Sadly he never fully recovered from having been abused, but we did enjoy two good years together going for rides in Frankie’s truck.
I have had many many many many pets growing up. Every single one of them have been held so near and dear to my heart and always will. One of them was a special girl. An odd ball, you might say. We found her wandering a busy street one day up in Michigan. We were shocked to see she was an African tortoise. We rescued her from being hit by cars and I was hooked for good. I named her Speedy. She was a very active tortoise and I took very good care of her. My parents weren’t sure what to do with her and we were planning to release her in the safe havens of the woods in my grandparent’s backyard, but I was afraid and heart broken on the day I had to. I decided not to and told them it was too cold in Michigan for a tortoise. So we took her home in a doggy crate and we gave her our old giant dog cage our dog Amber used when she was younger. Speedy was home forever. I wanted to do everything with her! I took her outside to “mow” the lawn, I’d sit out in the sun with her for hours, she always recognized me when I’d go see her. I also always gave her hugs. We went to see a “tortoise guy” to see if she was a she and what age she was. She was a she and she was my age! I always felt so special, sharing the same age with her. She was my best friend. I looked forward to having her for the rest of my life, until she left before it could happen. She became very ill and soon passed on before me. I cried by her cage and prayed and spoke to her until she was gone. I told her how much I loved her and said my forever goodbye. I still look back at all those silly thoughts of walking her in the neighborhood like a dog and how she was buddies with our rabbit, Heather(RIP). I still miss her very much and wonder what had happened. I know I may never find another Speedy out there, but I know she is with me forever. Always in her special place in my heart.
My best friend and first kitty was a long haired siamese named Karma. We adopted each other in 1986 and knew each other so well we could carry on conversations. Karma and I even hunted cicadas together. They’d gather around the light outside my apartment so I’d give her a boost so she could catch them. The worst 4 weeks of my life was when I relocated to Phoenix and had to leave her behind with a boyfriend while I got settled. When I came to retrieve her she meowed and joyfully lept into my arms. The boyfriend declared “I think you missed her more than you missed me”. He was right. Boyfriends came and went, but Karma stayed in my life for nearly 20 years. The day she left was the saddest of my life, but we left nothing on the table. We adored each other. Karma made me a better person and I honor her legacy today with my current furry babies Echo and Tenny.
My first pet was an English Springer Spaniel we named Freckles. My parents brought him home one day and my sister and I were in love instantly. Freckles, however was not the best dog in the world. He was the Houdini of breaking chains, gates, fences, etc to get out to explore the country side where we lived. Each and every time he escaped I would brush all the burrs out and give him love despite his disregard for being held captive in the yard. After we had Freckles for a year he had a seisure. After this he was diagnosed with epilepsy. He died a few short years later. It was Freckles who taught me what love and loss were at such a young age. He was a champion escape artist though.
Our next dog and the most well loved by anyone that knew her was Kari our Cocker Spaniel. Kari lived many years with us and was treated as the third child. When my mother surprised us with a little brother it was a riot to watch Kari growl lowly and lick my brother at the same time. It was like she was saying kid you stole my spot but I’ll forgive ya. As I went off to college it was Kari that I often missed the most. She always seemed to listen and know how to make you feel better when you were sad. Several years later my gram was diagnosed with cancer. From the day of her first treatment Kari never left her side once. She was a constant love and kind soul to gram in such a hard time. Kari lived to be almost 13 and even in her last days you knew she loved her family and didn’t want to leave us. She is sadly missed by all of us. August 1, 1991 May 7, 2006. She is running right along side gram now happy as a lark to have her buddy back by her side.
My first ‘all my very own’ pet was a cat I named Dusty. A friend of a friend’s cat was having babies, and after our dog had run away (or been stolen, I think) our parents allowed my sister and I to pick out kittens. We went the day after they were born, and I picked Dusty from the start…a gray and black stripy cat. It took awhile to pick his name, I was 11 and not very imaginative. He was a mostly outside cat, even when we moved to Alaska from Texas, and he loved to bring me baby bunnies, and moles/voles/mice, etc. He and his sister Phoebe would sit in the carport and lick baby bunnies.. never did kill one of those, but lots of mice. He would wait for me at the bus stop on nice days. He was hit by a car on mother’s day during finals week my first year away from college. My parents shuttled him back and forth from vet clinic to vet clinic for 3 days until they decided to have him put to sleep. I still am a little upset that I wasn’t there when he died. My mom said my dad cried..he was a good cat. I now have two other cats(strangly, all our cats have been adopted in Texas!) Millie, and Alistair. Millie is a big fat cat who likes to play with catnip and hide under my bed, and Alistair is a big gorgous fluffy tiger cat who is sort of a moron. But I love them all and wouldn’t trade them for the world. Even though, I never thought of myself as a ‘cat person’. :)
I was four years old and wanted a dog. We got a cat instead, and I think that’s probably shaped who am I to this day. Her name was Kitty, and she was half Siamese.
I didn’t realize at the time what a spectacular cat she was, since she was all I knew of cats. She could jump from the ground onto the roof in a single bound, and she would rummage through storage bins on the highest shelves in the house to find the toys she was looking for–usually Barbies. After a while, all of our Barbie dolls had their hands chewed off.
The most striking think about Kitty, though, was her maternal instinct. When my sister and I were learning to ride bikes, she would watch us until we came home. When we went for a walk, she would follow along to make sure we didn’t make trouble (I guess). And when someone in the family was sick, she would park herself near them until they got better. She was a great mother to her litter of kittens, to, as she had one litter before we got her spayed.
Kitty died after my freshman year at college, but I still dream about her sometimes.
As a child I had the love of 2 boxers, Peggy and then Kim, they were wonderful playmates and I loved them dearly. After Kim died we were never able to have another pet as my brother was VERY allergic to EVERYTHING. I was brokenhearted. My first dog as an adult was a boxer girlie named BlueBelle, Belle for short. While I have loved all my pets, Belle was the dog of my heart. The guy I was dating at the time worked in a pet store and one day when I went to visit I say they had brother and sister boxers. Boxers are my absolute favorite and so I would always go to them first and take them out and love on them. One day I went in and Max was gone. He had died during the night and Belle was very sick. I was hearbroken and just knew if I left her there that she would be dead by morning. I brought her home, took her to the vet and we started her on antibiotics. She was oh so loving and as I held her in bed that night I did not think she would make it through the night, yet she did. She was very sick for the first few months but she was determined (as was I) that she would have a good life with me and she pulled through. A more devoted, loving dog you could not ask for. One of her funniest traits though – she was a great farter, much more than the normal boxer LOL. My dad frequently sat at the kitchen table doing his crossword puzzles – where she would be in the house, when she felt the urge to toot she would get up, trot into the kitchen, present her backside to my dad and let go. It was the absolute funniest thing – it was her gift to him LOL.
After her first few months of being sick, I am happy to say that I was blessed to have Belle with me until she was 13 years old – the dog of my heart. I love you Belle!!!
My first cat I found in the street near my house , it wasn’t until the second time I saw her that I brought her home . I then put a sign up all around the neighborhood describing her and telling anyone who possibly owned her where to find her . I then waited and hoped no one would call , thankfully no one did ,I had my Matzi for 9 great years , She had an operation to remove a growth so I knew when she was getting toward the end .I sat and stayed with her at the vet when she left for kitty heaven and felt very empty for awhile , but I focused on the wonderful companionship she gave me .I now have two kitties and love all animals ! They add so much to the world !!!
The first cat I can remember is Trigger. I was three when he adopted us. Trigger was an orange tabby that showed up on our doorstep as a kitten. Two little boys rang our doorbell to let us know that “our kitten” had got out. He stayed.
My parents named him after Roy Roger’s horse. He was a tolerant kitty, he put up with me, my brothers, the neighborhood kids, the dog with nary a hiss or a scratch.
He developed cancer of the jaw at age ten and was put to sleep. My brothers and I had a “funeral” for him and carried his cardboard box around the yard before burying him under the plum tree.
Our first dog arrived three years after Trigger, when I was six. Patches appeared to be a Basset Hound / Border Collie mix. He was abandoned at the hospital my father worked at. He learned how to operate the pressure sensitive sliding door in the emergency room by jumping on pads to make them open. Dad rescued him. The vet guessed his age as somewhere between three to five years of age.
He loved everyone and would even go on camping trips with us. He died of cancer when I was 19. There will never be another Patches.
My first dog came when I was 10 years old. I had wanted a dog for years and it took a while to convince my parents. My uncle had a friend who was a receptionist at a veterinary hospital and he told us about a puppy that needed a home pretty badly. She was 6 months old and had spent 2 months there because she was abandoned by her owners. Her name was Lucky, she was possibly a Lab/Australian shepherd mix and her paw had been shut in a sliding glass door. For whatever reason, the owners abandoned her there. Most likely they just couldn’t pay to have her leg properly fixed. The first instant we met her, we knew we would be taking her home that day. She was seriously the best dog I could’ve hoped for. She never did anything wrong, she was very well-behaved, and she loved every person and animal she met. She took to mothering the new kitten we brought home when she was already getting to be an “old lady.” Then when I brought home a rescued pit bull, she took to showing that one the ropes too. I had 15 great years with Lucky, right up until her sudden death several years ago. There will never be another dog like her for me. As far as first dogs go, she couldn’t have been more perfect.
My first cat was BUGGS. My Dad had just gotten custody of me and we were at the local Dairy Queen and there she was beggin for my twin coronie! She was grey and had a white chest and white paws. She was already past the kitten stage but she was young. She grew up with me. She had lots of kittens and moved when I moved. Finally, after about 18 years, she developed kidney problems and I put her down. It was the worst day ever! I was so upset and felt so guilty and sad. It was so hard. But she was the greatest cat and I will always have those memories of her. I have 2 great kitties now and anytime they purr really loud…I I feel like shes saying hello.
Hi Snuzzy! My very first cat was kind of a spur of the moment heartbreaker story. I was a professional dog groomer, and one of my customers had rescued a litter of kittens whos mother had been killed by a car. I had never owned a cat, and really wasn’t interested in owning one.
But the woman stopped at my shop with her dogs, and the last kitten from that litter – a little blue tabby girl, and I couldn’t help myself. I fell in love with her and decided to keep her – at the shop! So she was the *Shop Cat* instead of the *Shop Dog!*
I didn’t know what to name her, so I put a promo ad in the paper with a contest to ‘Name the Bow Wow Salon’s’ newest addition! Well, dozens of suggestions came in, and the winning name was Agatha Christie – Aggie for short, because her background is a mystery :)
She liked most of the dogs that came in to get groomed, and tormented some of them. She also knew which ones to hide from.
Her favorite place was in the front window on the displays. Especially at Christmas time when she would play a game of *see how fast I can knock all the ornaments off the tree*!!
I eventually sold the shop, but she stayed with the next owners and lived a very long life. She died at age 17, She was a blessing to own – lots of fun, and very loving. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to give her a home!!
My dad brought home a Boxer pup named Dinah when I was six weeks old. She raised me and kept me out of trouble for ten years. We got a cat when I was six named White Baby – Between her and Dinah they were my best friends and babysitters. I loved them dearly White Baby died two years after Dinah. So my dad surprised me with a Beagle puppy named Mitzy and she lived see me grown up before she quietly went to sleep and never woke up. I cried for weeks – and am tearing up right now and I’m an old woman now. I have had many more loved just as much as the first.
My first cat was named Tennesee Waltz–a hit tune at the time–he was born under our porch–orange stripes–he was a really devoted cat–let me pick his scabs from fights–he wore a scarf cape when he sat with me on the piano bench as I practiced–let me raise and lower him in a basket out the second floor bedroom window–a truly good and steadfast friend for a little girl. We had a dog named Tom Friday but he wasn’t as loving as Tennesee.
My husband and I bought our first house in ‘84 we had agreed to get a dog as soon as we got a house. So that first weekend we went to all the shelters in the area. They only had big dogs and we knew we could only have a little dog to go with our little California back yard. We stopped at Andys Pet Store. Inside was a big blue wooden crate with some pups from the neighborhood. There where 3 german shepard pups being harrased by this little black dog that was just a bit bigger than my two hands! My husband knew that this was the dog for us and he was just $19.99! What a deal, as it turned out he was my heart dog and was with us for almost 18 years.
His name was Beauregard, it was the name my husband decided on before we even found the dog. In his time on this earth he was responsible for rescuing 5 kittens, one was in the storm drain. The city worker could not get the kitten to come to him, so i suggested he take my dog down with him, sure enough a few minutes later here came the kitty. Somehow they just knew, he would make sure they were safe.
My first pet was Oscar, my doxie. I fondly remember my parents holding onto both sides of a blanket and throwing both Oscar and I up into the air in it! When he was diagnosed with Addisons disease, it completely broke my heart. He ended up dying at the vets one night. I cried for days, and I was so little. I miss him all the time. I can’t wait to see him at Rainbow Bridge!!
Thouogh we both had dogs and cats in our life our FIRST l ove with a kitty was in the Spring of 1996… I had ALWAYS wanted a white kitten and there in the newspaper was an ad for giving kitties away…….. We jumped in the car and returned with our “Snowy” shortly after………..
Snowy was extra special to us as Hubby and I got married that fall……… We called our “our daughter”….
She was a strictly indoor kitty and she weighed about 24 pounds..was an “only child child, and She was a joy to own……..
On December 13th of 2008 Snowy had a stroke and on December 15th of 2008 Hubby and I did one of the hardest things we ever had to do which was have her put to sleep…….
Since then we have adopted a calico kitty “Callie” Da Calico and a main coone kitty “Sid” who was born with no tail…..
Though we have these 2 kitties to love and enjoy there will NEVER be another Snowy
Now in first pets are we talking childhood or our first pet as a husband and wife. As a child there were two that stand out. A black and white cat names Puss and Boots after the cat food. And a black cocker spaniel names Topper after Hop Along Cassidy’s horse. Then as a bride my groom got me a standard male daushund. We named called him Hot Dog. When we would give him a bath he would shine like a burnt hot dog on a grill. He was so very smart. And of course my little love.
I’ve had tons of kitties, but MY real first kitty was Melissa. she was long haired white with grey tabby strips in a couple spots. I got her when I got divorced and was in my own apartment with my 2 year old son. She was a fabulous kitty. She always shredded the tissues if I forgot to put then up and she loved to play with the hamster in a ball. That was her pet. Later we got Theodore and Fluffy, but Melissa knew that she was the Number One Kitty. She slept on me every night. She would always greet me at the door every evening no matter how late I got home. The first day she didn’t I knew that something wasn’t right, but she waited on my bed until I got home. I found her and was on the way to the emergency when she died in my arms. I knew that she never missed a day at the door, but she knew that I would find her waiting in my bed. She was the best kitty ever and I’ve not had a kitty like her since. She was 15 years old when she died.
my first dog was a black standard french poodle, from surprisingly, france. we lived in germany when i was small (dad was in the army). mom and dad told us they were going on a weekend trip and they would bring us a big surprise home when they returned, and there she was a little curly haired baby that we named holly (because we got her just before christmas). she was our companion for about 13 years before she went to puppy dog heaven, and she was awesome!
i got my first cat when i was nine months old,in 1947. he was a gift from my youngest uncle..herb.. it was a brown tiger striped male, herb found out in their barn and he brought it to town for me. i wasnt saying much at the time but i did say the word “kitty,” so of course, that became its name. not too original. kitty was an inside/outside kind of cat. kitty and i were inseparable. but once when he was outside with my father and me , some of the older neighbor kids came and took the cat and threw it in down the outside toilet.. my father heard it crying and he stuck a clothes pole down there and kitty climbed up it to safely.. my father tells me that that was the first time he ever saw a cat that was begging for bath, which, of course, he supplied.. i dont know if my father ever found out who did it , but i do know that my uncle visited each one of the older kids for several blocks around and nothing like it ever occurred again.. kitty lived to be 18 years old..
My first dog was a cockapoo that I named Bennie – actually Benvolio from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. I was 12 years old, a book worm, bullied at school and very withdrawn. My mom took me to the doctor (a GP, there weren’t many specialists back then) and he recommended getting me a pet. So, my parents got me Bennie. All I can say is that I wish more doctors and parents today would consider “The Puppy Cure”.
My parents received a Seal Point Siamese kitten as a gift 3 years before I was born. She was like my parents’ first child. Their friends nicknamed them “The Flintstones” so they named her “Pebbles.” She was smart and beautiful and affectionate. Once I came along, she became very possessive, never leaving my room even crying when I cried. When I was a little older, she would sleep with me every night. She would wait for me under the blankets, and when I crawled into bed, she would bathe me head to toe herself before laying her head on the pillow next to mine and falling asleep. Of course at that age I had no idea how extraordinary that kind of love and loyalty was. This went on until I was 10 years old and she was 13. She died basically of old age and I was completely heart broken. I have adored Siamese cats ever since, and have had two of my own since Pebbles.
My first dog was Sam, I was six, he came from the local junk yard and made the biggest difference in my life than anything since, he was my best friend, my protector, my closest confident, he spent every weekend hiking in the woods together, camping out just the two of us, fishing, he was the first passenger when I was learning to drive, and waited for me once I started working at a local store, he was everything I could have ever wanted, sadly he had to be put down due to cancer when I was 17, and I did not go with him to the vet, a fact that over fifty years later I carry as the most regretful thing I have ever done and carry the shame of deserting the best friend I ever had when he needed me, but I will never stop loving him or thinking of him.
I remember my first dog as if he was just here yesterday. I don’t have any pictures handy though.
I was 7yrs. old and my best friend had a German Shepherd named Dutchess, who go involved with a Black Lab. ;-0 She told me I could have the pick of the litter. There were 13 puppies, I picked the runt of the littler. He was black with a white mark on his chest. I named him Snoopy, because he always had his name in everything and I loved Peanuts. Snoopy traveled from FL. to MO. with my family. And for a while we lived on a farm he loved that. When we moved back to town, he would follow the mailman doing his route from our house to the big street then come home. He was my best friend, and loved everyone. But someone killed him when he about 2 1/2, he was poisoned. I came home from school and found him in the yard.
I’ve several dogs since him but, it’s never quite the same as with the first is it? ;-0
My first dog was a mutt named Othello. My brother and sisters got the entire litter and we were ecstatic. We weren’t allowed to keep them indoors, but we used to sneak them in at night and keep them under the covers. My mom always got upset when she found poop under our beds. Then we had to move far away and couldn’t take the dogs so our next-door neighbor took them all in, mom and puppies. For the next few months until we actually moved away, every time we walked by the neighbor’s house after school, the dogs would start howling and we’d start bawling.
My first cat was Max. He wasn’t actually mine, he was my then-boyfriend’s (now husband). I wasn’t a cat person, I couldn’t relate to this cat but somehow he loved me. Every time I came to visit, he’d wait until I sat down on the couch, then jump into my lap and settle in for a nap. It was so comforting I’d fall asleep too. I finally fell the last few steps into cat love one time I came to visit. I had just driven up, parked the car, got out and started walking up the street when I heard manic tinkling. I looked around to see what was going on when I spotted Max running up the street toward me. When he got to me, he looked up, meowed, wound himself around my legs and walked up to the house with me. I was a goner.
Max passed away 11 years ago, but you never forget your first. Now we have six cats.
My first cat was a ex-community cat(or most commonly called stray). Her name is Sweetie. She come to our family on 16 Jan 2005. We took her home once just for fun and took her back to the street. Amazingly, she came to find us herself. We live in the 8 floor, it is indeed amazing that sweetie managed to climb the stairs and found us. We did not adopted sweetie after she came to find us twice.
Sweetie decided to take shelter at our block second floor, every time the lift open and we came out, sweetie would rush down to find us. On 16 Jan, i opened the lift and sweetie decided she want to come to stay with us, she entered teh lift with me.
So this is the story of our first cat, sweetie.
As far back as I can remember, there have been animals in my life. My parents had two German Shepherd dogs, and I remember curling up with them in their chair. Another memory was of my sister – fourteen at the time – building a chicken run from salvaged wire and wood, because the 12 chicks that she had been keeping in her room had started to smell a bit too much…
The first cat I recall was a huge tabby tom called Sasha. As my youngest sister was seven years older than myself, I was quite a lonely child – but Sasha was my saviour. He was my best friend, teddybear and dolly all rolled into one. Everyone down our street would comment on the huge cat they had seen hurtling down the road wearing a pink frilly dress.
We had a few more cats in the years after we lost Sasha – Snowy, the pure white and stone deaf one must be my personal favourite – until I left home, and I seemed to lose interest in cats.
And then I had my daughter. She had always been good around animals – she seemed to have a natural affinity with them, even from an early age. When she was born, I had a Chihuahua called Robin, who hated kids. But the moment I brought Ashleigh home, he would sit by her pram, and he always let me know when she was awake. As time wore on, Ashleigh learnt that when she held a cheesy corn puff down by her leg, Robin would lick her hand – and so the friendship grew, until Robin grew too ill and we had to say goodbye.
When Ashleigh was four, after seeing her jumping up and down chanting “I’m going to have a kitten! I’m going to have a kitten!” (Oh really – no-one told me!) I found someone who had one kitten left. Alpha was the scraggiest, ugliest, most moth eaten little ball of fluff that you could imagine, but she WAS a kitten, so I took her home.
As soon as Ashleigh saw her, she fell in love with her. They were soon inseparable, with Alpha following Ashleigh around and sleeping on her bed. She would even try to follow Ashleigh to school! She would walk with us to the shop, and wait outside, greeting all the customers with a friendly purr or chirrup. Alpha grew into a real beauty – a mottled tortoiseshell, with a ring of ginger around one eye, and a two-tone nose. And Ashleigh loved her to bits.
Unfortunately, a couple of years ago, her kidneys started failing, and we had to say goodbye to her, too. Ashleigh – now almost fourteen – still sheds a tear for her occasionally, but Alpha’s legacy lives on. We now have three cats, the youngest being called Ditto. Guess who she reminds us of?
My first cat was Tiger. We found each other out on the street where I was living when I was married. I had come out of the house first to go to the car, and there was this beautiful short haired orange male tabby stray walking down the street. I have this interesting voice I use when I “talk” to animals, and when I called this 6 month old, he came to me. I put him in my lap after I got into the car and was petting him as well as soothing talking to him. Out comes my ex-husband who barked for me to put the cat down, he will be there when we get back. I did, but Tiger wouldn’t have any of it. And he stayed with me for fourteen years though a very messy divorce and countless apartment moves. Raised with a dog as a child, who we gave table scraps as well as dog food, Tiger got the same treatment. He loved McDonalds chicken McNuggets (minus the coating of course), McDonald’s cheeseburgers and/or hamburgers (no bun), macaroni and cheese, salad, you name it. Yes, he got fat. Yes he became diabetic, but through him, I learned how to properly care for an animal. The end was brutal, but quick, a brain tumor took him. But through him, I fell in love with cats. I’m on my third one now. Can’t live without my male orange tabbys! =^..^=
I have a very dignified kitty named Sammy.. Unfortunately for him he has male thyroid syndrome. He is currently on liquid medication and is doing well. We have a very good vet and she is taking care of Sammy. He sleeps with me and is a very loving cat.
My first pet was actually a dog. I got him when I was three years old. My mom’s boyfriend Bob delivered him, a cute little Maltese puppy. We all went out to dinner to decide what to name the puppy, we went to ChiChi’s, and I think that was suggestion #1 from me! Then I suggested Totino, as in the pizza. Well, we shortened the name to Tino.
He was so cute and fluffy. He was very affectionate, slept on the foot of my bed almost every night. He loved car rides, everytime my mom jingled the car keys, he was there. He also loved baths, my mom would give him a bath in the kitchen sink and rinse him off with the sprayer. He didn’t mind.
Since my mom was a flight attendant and traveled often, I had to stay with my grandparents when she was gone. They lived in a small apartment in a quiet little town. The building didn’t allow pets, so we had to sneak Tino in. He was pretty good about not barking, almost! Finally we got permission to keep him there, temporarily My grandma spoiled me and Tino. She would make bacon, hamburger, sausages, cheese, etc and Tino would get the extras, one day he even stole a weiner off my Grandpa’s plate while he wasn’t looking! Tino and I liked to dance together too, we’d dance around in circles, I can’t remember who started that game first!
When I started school, Tino would always be waiting for me at the top of the steps when I got home. He liked almost everybody, except for one of our neighbors. Every time that neighbor, his name was Lynn, came over, Tino would grab his pants leg and shake it and growl.
Tino’s life was very short. When I was 11 a few months before my Grandfather’s death, My mom and I, along with a friend of hers went to Las Vegas and we dropped Tino off at a kennel. Wen we came back, Tino seemed fine, but he threw up after dinner and again that night, and it was kind of a yellow color. Again he threw up in the morning. I went off to school, not knowing that that would be the last time I’d see my puppy that ran around in circles!
I came home, and for the first time in over five years, Tino was not at the top of the steps waiting for me. Mom said the vet needed to keep him and check him over. That night we got a call from the vet saying that Tino was too sick, that in the morning he’d have to be put to sleep. The vet said that Tino ate too many fatty things, after all, he was spoiled in that respect, ever since he was a puppy he abandoned dog food and just lived on human food.
He died in March of 1984, just a few months before my Grandpa. There are days when I still miss my sweet little spoiled puppy.
I am a 69 years young woman writing this. My very first pooch was given to me as a puppy when I was a toddler. Her name was Buma. I can never forget her, especially, because for reasons I could not understand, when she grew up she was taken away from me.
Buma and I used to sleep together, play together, and share whatever communications I could have with her. The thing that remains in my heart always about Buma, was the deep and mutual love we shared.
Cheyenne is my first cat… she turned my heart totally around with her winning ways. I never liked cats before her. Now I have 12 and she is still Queen of my house and heart, From the first day, she sat at my feet and lifted her paws for me th pick her up, she cuddled close purring loudly and that was all she wrote. Now, she sleeps above my head on my pillow and sometimes she becomes my pillow. She is 14 yrs old and I hope she lives another 14 or more. I adore you Chey Chey.
My first dog was a miniature schnauzer named Tadpole (because he used to lay on his tummy with his legs stretched out behind him). I waited 17 long years of my life to get him and he did not disappoint. He was smart and funny and devoted to me. He could fetch his toys by name. He went everywhere with me even to visit family in Brooklyn. He would always start to whine when we got to the Verazanno bridge because he knew we were close. He was a great first dog.
My husband and I were newlyweds living outside an Airforce base in Panama City Florida. It was almost Christmastime, and we were trying to figure out what to get each other. My husband always wanted a pair of boots and I really needed a companion, since I was so far from home. We decided that we were going to adopt a cat from the mall. We looked for what seemed hours, until we saw this adorable black and white male kitten. He was so sweet, but had enough spunk to him. We were trying to decide what to name him. My husband smiled and said “let’s call him boots”. I first looked at him strangely, wondering what kind of name is that? He said that I had planned on getting him boots, why not get me boots? We both just started laughing and that is how I got my first furry pal.
I have resisted getting another dog for several years, however I fnally gave in and agreed to adopt Jenny after seeing her posted on a rescue site. She is a mixed breed, Border Collie and a Saint Benard (or Grand Pyreness). We first saw her on the internet at a rescure facility in Missouri and we fell in love with her imediately. The facility accomodated us by delivering her to Tulsa, OK where we met to complete the adoption paper work. Then we drove back to the Dallas, TX area and she was the most agreeable puppy that one could ever hope for during the trip. She let us know when she needed to ‘piddle’ and was so loving during the trip in out laps. It is hard to believe that such a little puppy (only 8 weeks old) could be such a good traveler. We have had her for five weeks and she is a vibrant and active puppy. Such a joy to have. Even with her puppy traits, she is a great loving puppy. We have had some puppy things we had to work out as she didn’t have the learning that comes with knowing how to be gential when wanting attention because she was separated from her mother verly early and was somewhat aggressive with ‘mouthing’. We have since placed her in a bording training program for two weeks and miss her very much! Confident that she will complete her two week training to be a more enjoyable puppy for us. We can’t waite to get her back home.
My first pet was a black angora cat called Mew Mew. She was gorgeous, lovabale, affectionate and real fur ball. She loved to sleep with me under the covers. I only had her till she was like 13 years old. My parents got divorced and I moved into an apartment with my mom and had to give her up. It was one of the sadest days in my life to say good-bye to my best buddy. The only advantage of giving her away was that we gave her to a veterinarian who loved cats. She was unique she had 6 toes on th back paws and 5 on her front ones. Every time I see an all black cat, long hair, I think of her. I am sure she has passed many years ago, as I am not in my 50’s, but nonetheless, she was a sweetheart, and I have never seen one as pretty as her since. My first cat when I moved out and lived on my own was a Sealpoint Siamese – Chawrie, he was smart and loved to eat cigarette butts from my mother’s ashtrays. The cat could open door knobs and wouldn’t take no for answer. He died when he was 13 to cancer (probably from having eaten cigarette butts in his earlier years); he too was affectionate. He was a stray on someone’s farm when he came to live with me at about 4 months old; as well as an all back cat who when he was a kitten had violet blue eyes. Named him Taylour after Elizabeth Taylor’s eyes, but later on his eyes changed to a green color. He was gorgeous too and very smart black shorthair. He lived to 19 years old and died in my bedroom one evening in my son’s arms while I was at work due to a mini stroke he had a vew days before. He too as all the cats I have owned in my life so far, are never out of mind. >^..^<
We (my 3 brothers and I) brought our first cat brothers of my life back home in a little straw bag when they were still babies and I barely able to walk. We got them from one of our farmer neighbors (spaying of animals wasn’t common yet). One was a black boy, the other a grey one. They were responsible to make me more of the nature girl that I already was or would have become. It was inevitable. I can’t believe how slender these two boys stayed, not as heavy as many adult cats are. I bet they were some sort of interbreed with wild cats. That all was going on at a time and in an area where actual wild cats were still around….
I was maybe 14 yrs old when I came across Smokie Anne. She was the runt of a Chiwawa/Terrior litter. She was smoky grey and brown, so that is how she got her name. She was the love of my life. This dog was the first animal I took sole responsibility for. I made sure she was fed, watered, and took her out. I played with her as much as I could. I actually sometimes pretended that she was my child. She was very good natured and very loyal. She wanted to be with me every chance she could. I never grew tired of her. I got married and moved away, and couldn’t take her with me. Unfortunately, she fell ill and I had to put her to sleep. I stayed with her till the end. I cried so much, that I thought I would never stop. I buried her behind my mother in laws house. Every time I visit, I think of her.
My first cat was Calico the calico cat. I’m not sure if my parents got her before or after I was born. I’m not sure how old she was either, but we had her for many years. She was an indoor/outdoor cat and would bring us “presents.” One time she brought home a chipmunk that was still alive and my dad helped me rescue him and let him go across the street. I was really upset when she disappeared one day. She came back a couple days later with a mangled leg. We figured she got caught in a trap. The leg had to be amputated, but she got along fine on three legs. However, she disappeared again months after that and came back with another mangled leg and we had to put her to sleep. That’s probably why I hate hunting and trapping so much.
My parents got me my first dog from the pound. Both me and the dog, who we named Little Joe, were a year old at the time. We grew up together and he was my best friend. As we got older, Joe’s health started to deteriorate. He was going deaf & blind, he black hair was mostly gray, and he was starting to have trouble walking. My mom started to try to talk to me about putting him to sleep so he wouldn’t suffer and I felt horrible, but I didn’t want him to be in pain. However, a month before his 15th birthday, he disappeared. I searched for him for weeks and never found a trace of him. It really upset me that he was gone, especially because I wanted to be with him when he died. That was 6 years ago, but I still think about it, I’m always wondering where he went. Though I can never prove it, I’m convinced that my neighbors took him. For some reason our neighbors hated us, though that’s not my only reason for being suspicious. A couple days after he disappeared, my neighbors saw me walking towards the woods (I was going to look for Joe) and they started to pretend that they were crying and they were calling his name and taunting me. I didn’t realize until later that day that we never told them that Joe was gone. It was probably their traps that hurt my cat too. Thankfully we’ve moved to another state, so now I don’t have to worry about those people hurting anymore of my pets. All my cats are indoors now too.
My first cat was named Fluffy. (Isn’t that original). I wonder how many thousands of Fluffy’s there are.
Anyway, Fluffy was the cutiest kitten. She was totally black except for a little white spot under her chin. As you probably gathered by her name she was a long hair sister of four other little fluff balls.
Fluffy was smart. She learned how to open the porch door in the old farm house by climbing up on the big box in the porch and hitting the latch handle until the door would open and she would march into the kitchen for a visit with whoever was there.
I loved Fluffy. I still remember her even though I was 6 then and that was 58 years ago.
Florence
My very first cat was actually two cats! Oh when I was a teenager we’d have strays visit, and of course we fed them so they came back, some would stay overnight.
But these cats were sweet little kittens, fresh from a shelter. I was in my late teens, still living with my Mom and going to college. One night, in the middle of the night, my Mom said that her boyfriend Don was moving in. I liked Don and all, but this was kind of a rash decision and I wasn’t too thrilled. Until. ..
Don came in with two little kittens from the same litter. Scooter was the male, he was dark grey like his sister, but he had a white stripe down his nose. I called him Nosey king because he liked to rub noses with me.
The female looked just like Scooter, without the white stripe. She had no name yet, and she was somewhat smaller than Scooter, so I named her Munchkin, Munchie for short.
They were so sweet, they loved to sit together and cross their paws, they hardly ever fought, and while I studied, both of them sat on the top of my desk chair, digging their claws in.
My mom liked them too, but didn’t appreciate Scooter spraying urine in the basement or leaving their claw marks on my desk chair.
I was pretty irresponsible back then. I had to take what I thought was too many medications, and decided one day that I wasn’t going to let medications run my life. So I started hiding my meds under my bed, I know, immature and stupid thing to do, really stupid.
One of Scooter and Munchie’s favorite places to play was under my bed, and they found the pills and probably thought they were treats to search for. After some months, they started to get very sick, I finally told my mom what I’d done and she rushed them to the vet. Munchie had to be put to sleep, she was so sick, and Scooter made it out okay, but my Mom and Don gave him to Don’s sister so that nothing would happen to him again. I felt so bad for those cats, one of them died because of me, and I loved them so much! I don’t think Scooter lived too much longer, but now they are both at the Rainbow Bridge together, crossing their paws and being so cute. I, of course got over the immature problem of taking meds and I had that desk chair for years to come and every time I felt their claw marks, I thought of poor Scooter and Munchkin.
My first cat was one of the kittens born to my sister’s cat. I named him Tag (short for Tag-Along) because he would follow me around from the time he could get out of his “bed-box”. He slept with me, let me dress him up in doll clothes, let me take him for rides in my baby buggy, and go for rides with me on my tricycle. The more cats I’ve known since make me realize how special he really was.
One of my fondest childhood memories is falling asleep to the sound of him purring beside me every night.
Because of him, I can’t imagine life without cats!
My almost first cat was Lily. We had a Tom cat named Kit-Kat before that but he soon departed for greener pastures. Lily was given to my younger sister because I was deemed by our family friend, Uncle Dave, to be too wild to take good care of the kitten. Long story short, she decided she was my cat–my sister, a very sweet girl, was very afraid of Lily as were most of the other neighborhood cats. Lily was an orange and white tabby who more than held her own in the neighborhood. Lily rode in my bike basket, slept at the foot of my bed–a real one person cat! I loved her.
Bubba is my first cat. I got him when he was about a year and a half old from a no kill shelter. I was his 3rd and final home. I went in for a kitten figuring for a first cat that would be the easiest. Bubba (then named Stratford) adopted me by staring me down and then proceeded to climb on me and drape himself around my shoulders as I walked around the cat room. I was dog sitting for a friend so I couldn’t bring him home yet but went back the next day, he found me again and proceeded to ride around on me again. I still have him and at 16 he has turned into a cranky old man who wants what he wants NOW, but still loves to snuggle on my shoulder, purr in my ear and give me hugs. He loves to sit on my keyboard tray of my computer (of which he is now and I am typing around him) I know he won’t be around forever but because of him I have since had 6 other cats, three at a time until now. We currently are owned by 4!!!
My first dog was a black mutt named Popeye. Popeye started out as a tiny little mass of hair that grew into a large dog. One of my funniest memories of this dog is when my brother and i decided we were going to put him in a styrofoam cooler (don’t worry, the lid was not attached). We chased this poor puppy around the backyard picking him up and plopping him in the cooler, of course he would immediatly jump out and the game would start again. My dad caught our antics on film and it’s really funny to watch today. Unfortunately we had to give Popeye away as he became much larger than my dad had originally imagined, and he was tearing up our backyard. He was a great dog and helped fuel my lifelong love of dogs.
While growing up, we always had “family” cats, but my very first cat came when I was very much an adult and we had mice in our house. I saw an ad in the neighborhood paper for a “Sylvester” cat and sure enough, she looked liked Sylvester the cat. I called her Sylvia, but we quickly started calling her “Silly Girl” because she managed to amuse us with her behavior. She quickly began earning her board and keep, catching mice on a regular basis until the critters decided that our house was no longer the place to be. She would perch on the corner of the diningroom table and swat at the dogs backs as they went by. She was a packrat, taking things such as embroidery floss, buttons, little plastic toys and straws and hiding them in a cubby hole someplace in the house. She always knew when the vet was going to make a house call and would disappear to someplace we never found, so we had to prepare ahead of time and keep her caged when she had an appointment. Sweet Silly lived to the ripe age of 19-1/2 years before going to the bridge. I still see her in my memory, sitting in a cardboard box, under the kitchen table, watching her little world go by.
My first cat is “Bob” the cat I have now. I have always had dogs, only dogs, never cats and in fact I didn’t like cats, didn’t know anything about cats and sure didn’t want a cat. THEN, BOB entered my life. He showed up on my porch, bloodied, thin, weak, and scared, very scared. I couldn’t turn my back on him and I sure wasn’t going to call the local shelter (as they are a “kill” shelter) so after a bowl of milk and a can of “Chicken of the Sea Tuna” he warmed up to me enough for me to wrap him in a blanket and take him to my vet. After having him stitched and cleaned up and a shot of antibiotics I took him home and put him back on the front porch. Yes, I was hoping he would go home, if he had a home. Two days later he was back, again bloodied and this time looking really bad. I took him back to the vet, who informed me I “have a pet cat”. I told the vet I didn’t know how to take care of a cat I didn’t know anything about cats, how or what to feed it, how to housebreak a cat etc. My vet laughed and began telling me what I needed to know. When Bob had recovered from his wounds, I had him neutered and front claws removed. One of my son’s named him “Bob” just because he looks like a “Bob”. Bob stayed out of sight for a year. We knew he was still in the house because of the litter box and food and water. Then, for no apparent reason he came out of hiding and has been my shadow ever since. That was 8 yrs. ago and he has brought more laughter to my life than I ever could have imagined! He went from a frail, frightened cat barely surviving, to a 20lb. prankster living, loving and playing with 2 Rottweilers, 2 other cats and a Chinchilla! Bob changed my opinion of cats and I am now a dog AND cat lover!
My first cat was catoo. When my husband got this full grown siamese cat from a cousin my little daughter who was just 15 months yelled in excitement ”catoooooo”…that’s how she got her name. After that she made herself quiet at home and quiet quickly. The best part was she could communicate very clearly what she wanted and at times she would fight for it. if she wanted the AC on she would meow and meow on near the AC until it was switched on. She loved watching barney on DVD and the fireside must be lit for her through winter. We shared a chair…actually she was kind enough to allow me to use it for a few hours everyday. If we ever locked her in the room (which we occasionally did when we went to a party) she would yell at us when we came back and the purr and purr. Once she was in our life our marriage was like a threesome…we were not allowed any privacy…with her talkative ways she kept me wound in her little claws…tears roll down as I write this…love dali
My first Pet was Spook. He was my very first black cat as well. I dont remember much about him other than he was a real trip and a cool cat to be around. We got him as an adult and he loved us kids. After he passed I owned mainly black cats, they have one of the coolest tempermates in a cat, they are usually laid back and great family cats. My last black cats I owned was when I was 16 to 19 years old. One passed when I was 17 though but the other one made it till I was 19. We lived on a busy road and they were indoor/outdoor cats, from that point on I have only owned indoor cats, right now I have two cats and they are in great health, one is 20 and the other is about 7. Both indoor and very happy.
My first kitty was given to me by a neighbor and I did NOT have permission to bring home a pet without it. My Mama was not thrilled with me and even less thrilled with the neighbor
. She called her and let her know that it was fine and she would let me keep the baby. She is always such a gentle lady, and put up with a lot from her animal crazy Daughter. I named the kitten Stormy as she was the color of a stormy sky. She was so much fun I enjoyed her and her playful antics. Mama was very patient with us both. Stormy’s favorite toy was the 2 throw rugs we had close to a highback chair. She would “fly from the back and tumble the rugs into a heap. mama would straighten them and before she could get but a few steps Stormy would strike again send my Brother and I into fits of laughter.
My first dog was supposed to be a dachshund. My mom’s best friend’s dog was having puppies and they promised me the pick of the litter. One came out that was so tiny and fuzzy, he looked very different from the rest of the sleek, dark colored ones. His fuzzy fur was the color of warm wood. I remember he licked my nose when I picked him. We took him home and named him Smokey. After a while we noticed something odd about my ‘little’ dog. He was bigger than the rest at about 4 months and didn’t stop. We’re not sure what he was exactly, but he was the size of a German Shepherd, with a long nose like a Collie and long, shaggy brown and black fur.
I remember he quickly outgrew my ability to control him until I got older. But he was definitely my dog! Mom couldn’t spank me if he was anywhere near! And he used to perch on the top wire of a barbed wire fence to keep an eye on me when I went to the neighbor’s to play. I still miss him, even after almost 40 years.
Pumpkins wandered into our yard on a rainy Halloween night. We begged dad to allow him to stay; dad said only till the next morning..twelve years later. Anything in uniforms was to be barked at, and no fence could hold Pumpkins in. He often wandered off, a la The Tramp, and came back days later, smelling of various restaurants. Our cocker spaniel, Little Lady, loved him, but he liked bigger dogs. Once I tracked him to an area of warehouses, and he was facing off with a big male german shepherd over a female shepherd, surrounded by a pack of ne’er do well strays. He beat his opponent, and won the paw of his new furry princess, who would often nuzzle him through the screen gate when he couldn’t get out. My bud, from 6.5 to 18 years….!
My first dog was a Wire Haired Terrier named Teddie. Teddie was a good little dog who sat by me and let me feed him the food off my plate that I didn’t want. He also graciously licked my liquid vitamin, a horrible cod liver oil concoction, right off my spoon. Of course, the spoon found itself under the table.
My First Dog has been with me since last August
– she’s probably 11 and I’m probably 71. A little too comfortably settled into my retirement, I really needed a reason to break away from my TV and laptop occasionally during the day. After a month’s sifting on line, I found Lulu at a lovely rescue farm near Chicago. She’s a former puppy mill mom who was looking for another furrever home after her first rescue mom died. Lulu’s a white rat terrier with the sweetest disposition of any dog I’ve ever met. I know she appreciates the loving home we share. We’re not about to enter any 12K runs, but I know we’ll both live long enough to use up all the love in our house.
My first cat as an adult was Pancake (the neighbors had Muffin, Biscuit and Creampuff so we had to keep the sweet breakfast food thing going). She was a hungry stray kitten when we found her, but she always had a regal air about her. She would play “hide and seek” with my husband. She would stay on the bed beside me when I had migraines. Above all, she gave total, unconditional love. She died in 2005 at age 14 and although we have other kitties that I love very much, Pancake was special because she opened our hearts for all the others. I still miss her.
A Pembroke Corgi was my first pet and he was named Chi Chi which looking back was not the ideal name for a Welsh herding dog. Chi Chi was around in the sixties in New Zealand and attracted more attention than any of the subsequent Corgis I have had because they were not well known in those days and therefore looked even more odd and cute. Chi Chi had a fine luxuriious red coat with white markings, a happy expression and was well up to conformation show quality. He just loved swimming which was great because my parents and I lived a stones throw from a beach and a river.
My story has a sad beginning. There had been a lot of cats in my family as we grew up, but none of them were mine. They were everybody’s. A particular fluffy one, Strobe, had been hit by a car. His head was basically split down the middle under the skull and he had to be put down. We always mixed him up with his sister, and since the injury marred his face, we didn’t realise it was him until his sister showed up. I was so heartbroken, I mourned for years. I sort of shut down and didn’t want any more cats.
When I was fourteen (a couple of years later), my sister brought a black and white tuxedo kitten to our house. He was about three months old and had turned up at a friends house and apparently didn’t belong to anyone. Our family took him in, called him Edmund Blackadder II, and he became a part of the family.
But Eddie decided that he loved *me* the best, that I was his human. He loved to paw my jumper and suckle my shoulder like a kitten. He followed me around and slept with me at night. I didn’t want to fall in love with the little furball, not when I’d hurt so bad before. But there was something about this cat, he was a special cat. He was clever and had such a personality. I couldn’t resist that and I adored that cat like my own baby. I taped a photo of him inside my ringbinder at school so I could show people how gorgeous he was.
Sadly, he went missing when he was a couple of years old. I soon stopped letting my cats outside after that. The culture of pet-owning in my city at that time was a bit rural, so it took me some time to come round to the ‘indoors only’ thing, but now that I have I’m ardent for my pets.
I’ll never forget Eddie. His picture remains up on the door of my wardrobe. He helped me open my heart to taking in cats again, and my cats Lenny, Xena and Rogue would probably thank him for that if they knew how to!
Freda was my first, a blind Siamese. She was only 18 mos. older than I, but she was an old soul, very wise. By the time I arrived in the family, she’d already exhausted a few of her nine lives. She’d survived distemper and uremic poisoning, staring death in the face more than once.
Raised among a raucous group of dachshunds, a Jack Russel mix, and an infant, Freda rolled with the punches. Presaging my adult behavior, I insisted on pushing her around the yard in a baby stroller and dressed her up in doll clothes. She rode horses with us, loved corn on the cob, and slept on my chest every single night. Like many Siamese, she was bonded to one person, and that person was me.
Once, when she was about 8 or 9, she went missing for five long days. We said a million prayers to Sts. Anthony and Francis, had the local radio station get out the word, and spent every spare moment driving slowly throughout the countryside, calling her name. Someone several miles away found her, which made finding her seem nothing short of miraculous; there was a busy highway between our house and theirs and we couldn’t imagine how she’d survived its crossing.
She died in my arms when she was 14–at that time, an ancient age for a cat. Like many childhood pets, Freda remains in my mind the best cat ever. Because of course, there’s nothing like your first.
My first dog was a large white and black mix breed we called Patches i think i was about 10 years old we did not have him for long as my younger brother had allergies but he always stands out in my heart because i had begged for a dog since i could remember. Since then i have had many dogs and will always remember each and every one of them.
My first recollection of a pet was “Snooper” She was a gentle big boxer that all 6 of us kids used to ride on. Snooper was the sweetest, “slobberyest” kisser a dog could be. Big wet slobbery kisses for everyone.
Snooper was the best boxer any kid could ask for with all of her wet slobbery kisses for all 6 of us kids.
I got my very first dog when I was 8 years old. Her name was Snuggle, and she was an 8 week old Black Lab/Border Collie mix. My mom actually named her because she snuggled up to my neck all the time. She was a throw away, and I’m glad I got her. She was a good dog. She loved to fetch…anything!! Balls, frisbees, sticks, snowballs, if you could throw it, she would retrieve it. As she grew up, she became more independent. Snuggle died of cancer when she was 12 years old. I will always love and remember her.
My first cat was a sweet angel named Simon. He was a buff-colored Persian with beautiful big brown eyes. I was 10. He used to sleep on my pillow at night, and was blessed with the curiosity that is so endearing about felines. He was with us only a very short time. Born with leukemia, unbeknownst to us, Simon passed over the rainbow bridge when he was only five months old. Over 25 years later, he still lives in my heart.
Archie was not my first cat, but he was the first cat I had as an adult. He is my best friend, and has also steered me towards animal rescue. He has taught me so much, and is a true companion. I don’t really know what life would be like with out him.
My first cat was Tammy. We had her mom at the time and she had kittens, my mother got rid of Tammy’s mom and we kept Tammy. She was my baby and the whole family felt like she was part of it. She was a gray long haired tabby with big green eyes. She lived 18 years until about 9 years ago she past away. I was only 8 years old when she was born. I cried for weeks when she past away from cancer. My second cat is 14 and he is also my baby.
I always had cats and dogs growing up and they always were special. This is about the first kitty I had as an adult.
She was black (no white on her) and she had a loud voice and she kept hanging around my backdoor. One day someone giving me a ride said, “Your cat wants in.” I didn’t have a cat, but the cat followed me in like she lived there and shared a tuna sandwich with me.
In a few weeks she gave me a litter of kittens in my dresser drawer, and when I took her to the vet to be “fixed” she officially became “my” cat, and her name was Christa Fur Robbin. Chrissie for short.
She bonded with me but she was mean to other people, she was a one person cat. She had the loud voice of a cat with some Siamese in her.
She lived with me through seven moves, a marriage and a divorce.
She lived to be 19 years old (or slightly older since she was fully grown when she adopted me.)
There have been three cats since and each has been adorable in his or her own way, but Chrissie is famous for having adopted me.
——-phantom and committee
My first cat was a six year old rescue cat named Paul. He had a scar on his nose, and was a large grey and white splotchy thing. We got him when i was five years old, the first three months we had him at home he didn’t leave my room. He ate and slept in there, his litter box was where my dolls used to sit.
When i was seven, he ran up the chiney and got asthma, from then on he wheezed when he breathed through his nose. People thought he looked tough and dangerous, but he was a complete sweet heart, he never scratched out at me or any of the kittens which arrived later.
He meant so much to me, he was a true friend who helpped me feel like i wasn’t alone through tough times with my family, i don’t think i’d have ever been as happy as i am now if it weren’t for him.
He even let me dress him up… remember i was just a kid, i wouldn’t do that now ^^
My first cat was called Tiger a brown tabby cat she is now 15 years old or will be May 8. I will remember the day I got her she was just 2 months old and I decided to take a picture of her she scratched me right down my front. She is now called Princess and is very sweet and loving actually the sweetest she has ever been.
My friend Rosa worked for Sanitation. A couple of Sandmen–the Pacelli (?) brothers–found a pregnant beagle tied to a garbage can & took her home. They were going to raise Beagles. Of course she had nine half-Shepherd pups. Rosa had a big heart & wanted to help them place them.
I was coming from the stairwell & met Rosa dragging down the hall with an equally hangdog pup. A boy who was taking the pup was not home & his mother had said no dog was coming into her house. Rosa couldn’t take the dog home, because her mean little dog was making its life miserable. Could I take the dog until she could place her? I knew my fate was sealed, right then. I took her home & realized Rosa had found a home for her & I wasn’t going to be doing any more footloose world-traveling freelance for at least ten years. So I might as well get married. Which is what happened.
I got my first dog when I was 9. He was an oversized cockapoo that my father got for me, because I’d been begging for a dog for about 2 yrs.
His name was Barney and he was my best friend and playmate. My oldest brothers ((twins) were 6 yrs older then me. I was the youngest out of 6 brothers and the only girl. Barney used to play hide and seek with me by running around my grand mother’s house while I ran and hid. He would then find me by sniffing me out. He was also a ball freak. We’d play ball for hours. He went everywhere with me. When I went and stayed overnight somewhere he’d go with me.
I had him until I was a senior in college He died at 11 of oral cancer. I slept with his collar under my pillow and cried all night.
It’s because of him I have such a deep love of dogs. I’ve never been without one at my side since.
My first dog as an adult was a Great Pyrenees, presented to me as a wedding gift by my husband, after some discussion of the relative merits of the Old English Sheepdog, the Saint Bernard, the Newfoundland and the Gr. Pyrenees. We named him Brumus, after a photo (of a Newfoundland) that we’d seen inside the cover of a Jefferson Airplane album (it turned out that the photo in question was of Bobby Kennedy’s dog). Starting out as the world’s cutest puppy, a chubby white butterball, Brumus grew and grew, into a 100-lb. gigantic marshmallow of a dog. Everywhere we went with him, he caused a stir; people stopped us, wanting to know what breed he was, how much he weighed, what he ate, etc. He was truly a gentle giant, most happy when chilling out next to his humans. He was also fond of chilling out literally, either in front of a fan or air conditioner, or on a cool tile floor. Best of all, (for him) was riding in our convertible with the top down, wind blowing his fur in all directions–you can just imagine the attention we received, riding down the road with the entire back seat occupied by this gigantic white dog–people would honk and wave–it was amazing. Brumus has been gone for nearly 26 years now, but he’ll always be my special “first dog.”
My first cat that I can remember was crazy. I don’t even remember its name. I was really young maybe in second grade. THe cat would hide under the couch and hiss and scratch. It wouldn’t let anyone near it. When we moved across the state my mom wanted to take the cat with us, who knows why. Knowing the cat would run away she tied it to a log by leash outside. She was going to grab it and put it in the car, but found that the cat had dragged the log and herself over the fence and dissapeared into the woods to never be seen again. It is kind of a sad story if you think about, but I am glad we didn’t have to deal with it any more. My next cat left much happier memories and lived to be 12.
My Father found this Beautiful stray Mini German Shepard mix he had seen many times wandering his work, after nobody claimed her-He brought her home to Me and said She was all mine and I had to care for her exclusively. I named her HAPPY she was my best friend and We did everything together, I was 10 yrs old then. She also gave me my first experience of Puppies, a litter of six which We kept 1 named him Wally. Then we had to move, so my granny took her for me and as older people do over fed her and Happy got Plump and more Happy, Lol.
She was the Best Dog ever : )
My first Dog, well, dogs… were named Lady and Bingo. My father never allowed my mum to get a dog, despite the fact that she’d always grown up with dogs, A husky named AJ and a poodle named Jaque to name a few.
When i was 8 we took a trip to the local RSPCA and my mom led us through the kennel to meet some new family members.
The first time i saw Lady i thought she was the perfect dog, she was tricoloured like the traditional GSD is seen to be, but she was the size of a larger border Collie. She had deep amber eyes which lit up when she saw us, but always had a slight hint of saddness just behind them. As a kid i’d always had a view of what the perfect childhood dog should be, an unrealistic glossy disney channel view. but lady fitted it.
She used to try and herd my older sister’s pet goats, who never stood for it and would end up chasing Lady around the pen. She loved chasing and being chased, nothing thrilled her more then a game of tag.
Bingo, i’ll admit, i never saw in such a way, he had that independent streak which makes Terriers so endearing to those which like it, or infuriating to those who don’t. As a kid i wanted a dog which could be trained, so i left him with my mom for loves and play. I regret that even now.
Lady and Bingo were 5 and 3 respectively when we got them ten years ago. Both are still with us, only now Lady can’t run, and her deep amber eyes have become blue and cloudy. Now i look at Bingo and see how great a dog he is, and wish i had noticed earlier, he’s always been so willing to love and play, or just sit with you.
I remember when i first noticed that Lady was getting old, i tried to ignore the fact that she didn’t come when called, and wouldn’t respond to the word ’snack’. We went for a very long walk, and sat by the lake in our local park whilst it rained. Lady and Bingo taught me a lot, about patience and about acceptence and looking beyond the outter shell. Even now Lady is still teaching me to deal with mortality, as it were. It makes me terrified to think of the day my mom is going to call me and tell me the most horrible news in the world. I only hope that she and Bingo have truly loved their time with my family and me.
My first cat was Tracy she was a long haired white and tan domestic. I was in high school at the time, close to graduating. Her mother came into our yard and had one kitten, Tracy we weren’t sure if we were going to keep her, but we decided too. She was adorable and loved to dig in the plants and play with her favorite “Octopus man” hanging from the doorframe.
We were never cat people, but Tracy was a solitary cat, she didn’t like to be picked up but loved to sleep in our laps. She did like being with people, but often left to go sleep on her own. She never meowed either, but she often “kissed” us.
I will always, always, ALWAYS remember Tracy, who left us this year 2009, at about 19 years old. I miss her so much and it took me a while to be able to talk about her without crying. We buried her in our backyard as I wanted her close. We had a funeral and even said words over her grave. I couldn’t read what I wrote for crying.
She was my first pet as we couldn’t have any when we were really young. My ma named her Tracy, she just liked the name. Tracy had personality and was very smart, she caught onto things fast. I have cats now but I still talk about Tracy I wish I could bring her back. I miss you Trace! Thanks for letting us share. It was wonderful sharing about my beautiful, precious rainbow Bridge kitty. I’ll never forget her ever.
My first dog was Keesha, first cat Amber, first birds Sunshine & Ice, and we also had fish, but I wouldn’t remember the first! However, my very first pet that was all my own was Patrick, my orange tabby cat. He was extremely loving and though he spent a lot of time outdoors, if I ever wanted him I just had to go on the porch and call him. Every time he would come running! He also had a habit of jumping up to people when he wanted attention, and startled our neighbor one time by doing it to her! He was born on Valentine’s Day and I debated naming him Valentino, but didn’t like the sound of it. So I instead named him Patrick because I got him on St. Patrick’s Day!
I also took a keen interest in lizards as a teen and so my parents bought me an aquarium one birthday and promised to buy me a lizard once I decided what I wanted. So, after a bit of looking around I came home with an Emerald Swift male and named him Kiko! Although their average captive lifespan is 2-3 years, I took extra good care of him and he lived to within a month of turning 6 years old! (max lifespan is 7 years) He was a very fun and entertaining pet! Nicely complementing my hobby of catching bugs all the time, he got all the best wild-caught bugs except in winter (store bought crickets sufficed). I’ve had many lizards since then, but I’ve always thought back very fondly of him!
My first dog as an adult ( family’s before that) was Heidi, a Queensland Healer cross. By now I returned home after Mom’s death to be with Dad. One Sunday morning we were preparing our breakfast and a dog appeared outsid the family room’ s sliding door. I opened the door and she jumped in and jumped on the lazyboy, gently forced the back of the chair down as far as it would go and layed on the back and watched us.
I tried to find her owner, but, had no success. By now I didn’t have the heart to turn her into the SPCA. I had her from 8 months to 14.5 years of her life. I loved her so much and she was good to my cat and after 5 months, Boots finally accepted her. Now it is just Boots (18 years) and I and he is taking every opportunity to be with me. After I get a new floor (thanks to an unknown baggage Heide brought with her), I will get 2 smaller dogs because no matter what, my pets must be with me in the house.
I was not always the cat adorer that I am now. In fact I regret to say that when I was a small child, you can say I hated them. I had a really bad experience with my aunts cat early on. Every time I walked by demon kitty, she attacked me. (She was picked on by other kids really badly I found out later. I cant blame her for being bitter against children) The long story in short is that on my 19th birthday, we made friends. Too bad she was old & sick by that time.)
The cat that changed everything for me was the little soul who wrapped her tail around my heart after I had lost my 1st child to SIDS. Poor kitty was at deaths door (she had feline lukemia) & was” not adoptable”. For some inexplicable reason, I was moved to help her. I had to have her. I arranged with the shelter to take her off their hands after convincing them that I could provide proper care. VICTORY! I was sooo thrilled that this weak but sweet little bundle was now mine to cherish. I named Her Skittles because her calico markings reminded me of the candy. I loved her so much.
Her health slowly improved but obviously she was never cured. For a while, she barely ever even seemed sick! She lived 3 happy years with me until finally her little heart gave up. She was the 1st pet I ever had that was truly just mine. The wonderful thing about her is that somehow, she helped me properly grieve the loss of my daughter. I’ll never know how but I’m truly grateful! Angels come in all shapes & sizes & for me she will always be special. Now,(15 yrs later) I work in animal rescue & aspire to become a full veteranarian. She truly saved my life. Thank you Skittles!
Growing up my parents did not allow pets of any kind in our home. My mom was allergic to animal dander. When I got my first apartment my new neighbor was looking for homes for her new Manx kittens. I looked over all 5 of them, 4 black ones and one all white with just a smear of black under his belly. I knew right then, he was mine. I didn’t name him at first, I wanted to let his personality choose it for him. He loved to chase bugs and even hop up on doors, shelves, and over fences to catch one. So he became Bugs. He was devoted to me. He would sit by the door at night and cry until I let him in. He would go straight to my pillow and curl up. I had him for 4 years but had to find him a new home when I married and we moved to Japan. I still miss him everyday. Since then my family of cats that have come and gone have been 12 total. I now have just one a Russian Blue named Smokey, who also loves to chase bugs….hmmmmm.
Ever since I can remember, I have had my dog Nicky, nicknamed Neu (pronounced “new”). He is my love, my life, and my soul. He has a place in my heart that can never be replaced.
He is the worst dog I’ve ever met. He got into the trash, destroyed my favorite leotard, ate holes in my underwear, attacked other dogs and the mail man, etc. He was often found down the hall with a strand of toilet paper dragging behind him. I cried so many times when he bit me when I tried to take away the trash he had. Not because it hurt or broke the skin, but because it really hurt me. I knew he didn’t mean it, and it wasn’t his fault since he had a rough puppyhood. I love him so much yet he would do something like this. I could tell he felt bad after when he would come cuddle with me and be the dog I love again.
I don’t care about any of his bad habits anymore. If I could take away his pain I wouldn’t mind if he was the worst dog in the world. If I could only have one day where he could run again and be my Neu.
I remember the first day he was allowed upstairs and he sprinted up the stairs and to my bed, where he belongs. I wish he could still make it up the stairs.
He hated everyone, every dog, and all other animals. Now he can hardly stand up and doesn’t even react to them. I love him more than anything in the world. I will never forget him.
It is time to put him down, but I can’t gather enough strength to kill the dog I love more than anyone in the world. I love you Neu.
My first dog was Snappy, she was a Border Collie Cross with Chow. When she was little she used to snap her mouth and it was so cute that is why | called her that name. She was the cutest black fur ball in my world. She also had a purple tongue which was the trait of a chow. She was smart and the most loving dog. If she wanted something to drink and someone was playing video games she would sit in front of the tv until someone got her what she wanted. She has pasted away just in the last month, and part of me has passed away with her. I miss her so much.
I had to put her out of her pain, but I am glad I and my son was with her and said good-bye. I am told she has gone across Rainbow Bridge and she would be out of pain. That is good.
An animal can make you feel so whole and love you no matter what, or when you feel no one else does.
I am glad there is Rainbow Bridge cause there is a lot of good animals/pets out ther for everyone to enjoy…….first or second or…..
In 1965 we lived in an oil camp in South Texas. My mom was going to Pan American college and one of her professors talked her into adopting her white persian cat Eco. Well, Eco was very popular among the feral cats at our oil camp Alta Mesa and ended up having 3 litters in one year – oh my!! Out of her first litter I got to keep a small black and white male kitten which I named Venus (Mom was studying classic statues at the time in Art). So Venus was the very first cat I ever picked and was a sweet cat. :) It’s funny tho, he was the only cat I’ve had that wasn’t white – all the rest of my cats have been white cats. :)
My first dog is my three and a half month old Italian Greyhound puppy I have right now!!! I have never really wanted a dog for myself as my children and I always have been a cat people…in fact even now we don’t really enjoy other people’s doggies very much….but boy do we love our little Luna girl!!! She is so sweet and awful at the same time!! I really enjoy her, watching her play, cuddling with her and spending time with her. She loves to chase my 2 Sphynx cats around…who until 6 weeks ago didn’t know anything about dogs. One of my cats, Wocka Wocka, will have none of Luna and hisses and runs from her. My other cat Dz seems to really like to romp around with her and chase her and be chased by her! I really don’t think Wocka will fully like her, but oh well, he is very moody and only like me and my daughter, sometimes he doesn’t even like us!! We”ve had a rough time with Luna so far though, I’ve had to take a crash course in dog ownership fast!!! First, about 5 days after getting her, from a local breeder on her 2 month birthday, she fell ill. I took her to a different vet than I had taken her to for her 1st appt. the day before, he had said she was perfectly healthy. Turns out she had contracted Parvo. I had no legal recourse with the breeder because a couple of other breeders I consulted said that the Parvo could of been picked up in my yard or at the 1st vets office. She had to be hospitalized for 3 days and no one knew if she was going to make it or not. Her WBC count was critically low. I was so attached to her already I cried and cried. I had to take out a credit card at the vets office when they showed me the est. cost of 3 days hospitalization, $1400.00. I couldn’t let my little one die!!! She got better there and was released after the 3 days. the next day the vet called and said her fecal slide had showed she was infected with some worm I had never heard of. More meds. were prescribed…she was on 5 at that time. after she seemed to be better and out of the woods with the Parvo (about 7 days at home) she developed a cough. I took her back to the vet and after blood tests and x-rays she determined that Luna had pneumonia. Her WBC count was 48K and normal is considered to be around 16K!!! One more med. was prescribed and one discontinued…we were still shoving 5 meds. down her throat. She is much better now but still on one med. When we tried to discontinue all meds. her cough came back. Today is her last dose though. In 2 days she will have another follow-up appt….more x-rays and blood work to the tune of another $300.00. All together she is our $2000.00 baby and worth every penny…we all love her so much! we are looking forward to being able to take her for walks and out to the park! Hopefully very soon she will be all better!!!
The very first cat I had was a yellow tabby when I was 6 and I was deathly afraid of one getting on me, we had two and one day my dad made me sit in a chair and he put the cat in my lap and told me not to get up, I didn’t and from that day on, I was not scared to pick up a cat. It did not hurt me like I thought it would, I am so glad of my
“Henry”, he is a God send.
My first dog wasn’t sure if she was mine, or my Grandfather’s. She had a schedule and divided her time between us. She was very protective and almost got herself in trouble once when she thought someone was going to harm my Grandfather – she bit the guy! Luckily, he had on heavy work pants and no harm was done.
She was also protective of kittens – so much so that sometimes we had to make her let mama cat in the barn stall with them. For sure no other dogs were allowed in, even though all the other dogs were much larger than her.
She was just a small pup when my Grandfather found her in the back of his garage and took her in.
Since a puppy wasn’t in the plans, I suppose she was a bit of a bother – I was too young to be in on cleaning up puppy puddles. At any rate, her name, DD, stood for damn dog.
DD looked like a slim Cocker Spaniel – but with a long, feathered tail. She was jet black – and of course, quite beautiful. I don’t know how old she was when she passed away, but I was already gone off to college.
My Dad never really liked cats cats but my mum did and one year he decided to get her a kitten for Christmas (I know but it was the 1980’s before we knew any better). He saw an ad for “cute white kittens $5″ in the paper and called and went to see the kittens. On Christmas eve he went to pick up the kitten and to his horror realised that he’d got the ads mixed up and she was a Chinchilla persian kitten and he had to pay $150. We didn’t get any other presents from Dad that year as he always shops on Christmas eve and had spent his entire stash of cash on the kitten. We didn’t care because she was so cute. We named her Daisy after a cute but evil child on a TV show and she bonded with me and slept on my bed and would run to the door and greet me when I got home from School. Daisy was tiny and only weighed about 5lb but she was very feisty and would chase all the other neighbourhood cats out of our garden. She was a sweet little cat with us though and loved nothing more that sitting on your lap getting petted.
My first pet was Puff the gray cat whom my mom taught how to play dead. I had never seen a cat do that before. She would lift him up from his stomach and tell him to play dead and he would go down and then slowly wag his tail till the tip then nothing. He would even let us dress him up in doll clothes and push him in the doll stroller. He was so fun to play with. I miss puff.
Guinness the Menace was the love of my life and source of constant laughter. He was affectionately named “pistol packin’ cowboy” by his breeder, Reva. Unfortunately, I hired a friend to pet sit for him and on November 4th, 2006 I received a phone call that my “Ninny” was gone. My ‘friend’ was busy surfing the Internet and ‘accidentally’ let him outside.
It still hurts to this very day.
My first pet was a half collie half german shephard named Kristy. She was a great dog and was very protective of me. She learned a lot of tricks, very smart. I was 14. When I started college I had to give her up and I took her to the ASPCA and they found her a home on a farm with lots of kids. I know she was happy.
My first cat was a burmese named Shan. He actually one time got out and we heard the doorbell ring and there he was! Must have been an accident, right? (twilight zone music in the background)
Maggie Fox
Margo, was not my love at first sight. I picked her Brother. After all he was fluffy and funny! My oldest Sister’s pick was standoffish, clever I’ll give you that..but NOT cute or fluffy or funny. We took them both home. My little Sister and I called our puppy Freddy. My Older Sister’s Puppy got the name Margo…a pretty name for a not so pretty puppy. They were exact opposites. Freddie, was white and six inches taller than Margo. He had long fluffy ears, long legs, and a long tail that constantly wagged over his back. Margo was black had very short hair with a little beard and mustach, little eyebrows, short semi pricked ears, and a skinny whip of a tail that did not curl. My Mom was NOT a dog person. As much as I hate to say it..their first year was hectic to say the least. We did the best we could. Mom worked long hours and was not very involved. While Freddie never did housebreak, Margo never pottied in the house. We eventually made Freddie a very nice outdoor condo. He was such a good boy in every other way, and in hindsight, he deserved better. He came inside everynight and was still a big part of the family, at my insistance. Margo became pregnant at a year old (this was the 70’s, I was young and Mom as I mentioned was NOT a dog person..we did not have either of them fixed) at the time both dogs lived mostly on our back porch with an outdoor pen attached. Apparently Mom knew early on Margo had become pregnant…and had the pups aborted. That day after school as soon as I found out, I went out to the porch and told Margo, as she rolled over onto her back, while I rubbed her stitched up belly, that I was so sorry we stole her babies. As silly as it sounds, She and I bonded over that little chat. That night I brought her to my room and she slept on the bed. Since she could be trusted not to potty in the house, She never lived outdoors again. She was my constant companion, my shadow. I thought myself to be a girl Huck Finn. Oh Boy the adventures that dog endured! And she loved every minute of it. Everyone in town knew Margo and I. We were often seen wandering town with a group of dogs. With Margo, I had LOTS of friends…the best kind, the four legged kind. She was incredibly smart. Infact the only dog allowed in the stores. About a month before my oldest Sister was off to College, she came to Margo’s and mine “reading tree” in the woods behind our house to tell me she had decided to “give” Margo to me. Margo and I sitting in the nook of the tree, I sat up and informed her Margo was already mine. And so it was for the next 16 years. Fred Passed away in my arms from kidney disease when he was just 6. Margo lived till two weeks before her 20th Birthday.
Margo meant the world to me. Mom was a single parent trying to raise four kids on her own. She didn’t like dogs, but tolerated the chaos for me. I was a distant kid, and really didn’t make friends easily. It is to this day the best gift I have ever been given. I may joke that Margo raised me, but it’s more true than not. Our whole family learned so many lessons from those two dogs. Mom eventually bonded with a stray puppy that changed her whole opinion of dogs. All grown up we all have dogs. Mom today at seventy, has five INDOOR dogs. She loves them every bit as much as her Grandkids. I work as a vet technician…and am always bringing home unwanted or needy animals to my Partner and Son. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of the worlds smartest dog. Thank you Margo.
Our first dog was Bandit. He was a very smart springer spaniel. He sat with me in the garden as a child. We ate cherry tomatoes together until we were both sick! He chased off my boyfriends when my parents weren’t home as a teenager. We loved that dog as a brother. And Snuzzy….we had the same linoleum as you in the kitchen!!!
Hi Snuzzy! My first cat was a kitten I acquired through an ad that was giving away seven-toed kittens for free. The kitten I picked was a light colored male that I named Buffo, which reflected the color of his fur. This very intelligent guy used his front “hands” similarly to how we humans use our hands. He learned how to open doors, and do all sorts of human-like things with his unusual paws! One front paw had seven toes, the other front paw had six toes. His two rear feet had five and four toes, respectively. Buffo was quite a clown, and loved to entertain the whole family. He lived for a long time, finally passing away at the age of seventeen years. He was quite a character!
Smokey was my first cat.
My husband was walking into our house when he heard a car screech and a tiny black kitten run to the yard.
She was so tiny. We kept her and found out exactly how much we needed a furbaby in our lives. She gave us another lovely kitten we named Boots , and Boots gave us Scooter. We had 3 generations till Smokey passed away.
What a wonderful little girl and mommy she was.
My mother and father owned Cindy, a black cocker spaniel before I was born. As a baby I began to sneeze and cough when I was around Cindy. My mother took me to the doctor and after extensive allergy tests he announced that my mother had a choice to make, “Either the baby or the dog, one has to go because Susan has terrible allergies to dogs”. My mother looked at the doctor and said, “We’ll have to find a new home for the baby because the dog stays!” And stay she did. Yes, sometimes I coughed a bit, but the inhaler helped. Cindy became my best friend. Even today, sixty some years later, I remember and treasure the companionship of my first dog. I have never been without at least one dog since then. I’m glad my mother made that choice and I outgrew my allergies!
My first cat was named Jake. I adopted him from a adopt a pet day in 2005. He was one of four.cats. He and his brother were dropped off at the North Haven Shelter. Long story short, we were together for a short time. We both were going through our own medical problems. He had diabieties and later lymphoma cancer. I lost him November 29, 2007. I now have 2 other cats also rescues named Samson and Big Ben.
Wow. My 1st pet was a Chow I named him Blackie. I was 8yrs old
He was a gift from my grandfather for getting good grades. I love dogs so much, and I had wanted one froever. One day my grandfather came to pick me up from school, he was acting really strange just all big smiles. Until I saw his belly a little bigger then usual and it was moving, so when I asked him what it was he popped the puppy out of his jacket.
Oh I was so estatic it was unreal to me. Unfortunately he got bigger and bigger and we still lived in an apt due to a fire we lost our house, so we were still house hunting. We had my aunt and uncle take care of him until we found our house. I’d visit him all the time, then finally we got a house so we went to go pick him up.
I hadn’t seen him in months by that time, when we went to the house my aunt opened the door and we were still across the street and I was so ecxicted I unknowingly called out his name he ran across the street and got hit by a a small car but then he managed to get up and started to walk very slowly and got hit by a bigger car that killed him.
I saw the whole thing and it just killed me, I had one o the worst asthma attacks that day.
I never forgave myself for calling out his name like that, he was just the most amazing dog. My little brother and I taught him lots of tricks our fave was when we’d point to him and say “bang bang” He’d roll over on his back. It was hilarious.
R.I.P. Blackie
My very first pet was Alaidh, my cat. I got her on May 1st, 1989 when I was 22 and she died while I held her on February 18, 2009. I’m having a hard time typing this because I miss her so much.
I can barely see the screen through my tears right now, so I’ll just post her Catster page.
http://www.catster.com/cats/498860
My first cat..she was so so pretty! I named her cottenball ((I was 8 when I got her)). She was a long haired calico. I got her when she was about 8 weeks old from a lady that bred all different types of cats. She must have loved me terribly because she would let me dress her up and run around the house with her in a baby stroller. And never once did she put up a fight! Few years later we got 4 mice. She was absolutely terrified of them! To think a 20lb cat could be scared of little mice is beyond me! One time when they got out and we joked that she should go find them..she looked at us as if to say “are you crazy?!” I loved her terribly. She died of old age when I was in Paris back in 2007. Broke my heart.
Although I had doggies all throughout my childhood, I consider Barker my absolute “first,” and he joined my family when I was an adult.
I went to the animal shelter in Joplin, Missouri, and I saw him in the kennel. He was the cutest little black dog with white markings that I had ever seen. When I told my wife about this 12 week old puppy, she had to see him for herself. So we made the trip over to the shelter. I walked in hoping that he would still be there – and thank goodness he was! When my wife walked in front of the kennel, he barked at her. She said, “Whatcha barking at Bob Barker?” And, so when we decided he was definitely the one for us, Bob Barker stuck!
Over the years he has adopted many names, and so we just attach them on to his existing name. We’re up to Bob Vladamir Putin Tony Barker (he farts a lot and there’s a San Antonio Spurs player named Tony Parker!)
Barker, plain and simple, turns 5 this May and every day I’m just so lucky to have him. I think he feels lucky to have us too ;)
Coby…..My 1st Love, came into my life when I was 22 and sadly passed away when I was 34 and he was 13 and a half from intestinal cancer. He was my boyfriend’s (now my husband) cat, but very quickly became mine. He was part oriental and tabby and loved to talk and snooze with me on the sofa. He followed me everywhere in the house, even into the bathroom and patiently waited by the door for me to return home every time I left. He knew when I was sad or sick or just needed some TLC. He was also very, very protective of me. If someone raised their voice to me or somehow did something he found disrespectful, he let them know it. Burgy, as he became known over the years was a big 14 pound intimidating man who always came to my rescue. He was also quite jealous. He didn’t like to see my husband and I cuddle and he always had to get in between us or onto my lap, which was fine with me :) My husband and I had a rough patch in our marriage a few years ago and the only reason we stayed together was because neither one us was willing to give up Burg. He brought us together, kept us together and we are stronger because of him. Burg was our first child in our eyes. He was literally one in a zillion. When he was dying, my husband kept saying not to hold him because he was in pain, but one night I just had to. As soon as I picked him up and had him in my arms, he began to let go. Burg was just waiting for me to hold him one more time and I am so grateful that I did. It’s been eight months without him now and his death was the most devastating experience of my life, but I thank the powers that be, everyday, that Burg and I had the years we did together. He literally changed my life. Shortly after his passing, I became a Hospice volunteer and I finally feel useful in this life and I owe it all to my beloved Burgy :)
My furst cat was a Siamese mix named Angel. She was given to us by some friends of the family who fur some reason, (I was very young and can’t remember all the deTAILs) could not keep her. We named her Angel because when we furst brought her to our home in the country, she escaped and climbed way up high in a tall Fir tree where she stayed, scared, fur a couple of days. Angel finally got hungry and my mother was able to coax her down with some canned cat food. Angel quickly warmed up to us once we got her inside our home and she stayed with us fur several years. We lost her to old age and I have fond memories of her sleeping on my bed with me at night. :)
My best friend Theodore he was a yellow tabby I loved him so much. I had to put him down 4 years ago hehad so health issues he had been through so much. I thought my life was over. I still cry for him he was my best friend & always will be I have two other cats & a dog I love them but Theodore was the best he was always there for me no matter what. He was 15 years old when I lost him He is here with me now so he is always close to me all the time
My family moved to a new house when I was 7. We had only been in the house for a few days, when one morning I got up and on the porch was a beautiful white Japanese Spitz. We tried to find his owners and couldn’t so I got to keep him.I called him Rex.He was very smart and would do all sorts of tricks and guard me very well. He was about 3 years old the vet said. I had him until I was 16.
I was very upset with my mother as she had him put down without me knowing it while I was at school one day.
my second dog is another Japanese Spitz named Ollie. He is smart also
We had dogs as kids but MY 1st dog was saved from “the needle” by us. We adpoted her so she wouldn’t have to go to the vets for the last time.
Her owners were leaving the country and rather than let her become a street dog, they decided it was kinder to have her euthanised.
We decided it was kinder if we looked after her.
Within days of adopting Anjing she had not only scared away a snake, she had also frightened two monitor lizards from our garden.
Instead of trying to find her another home, we decided to keep her, and that we did for quite some time until it was our time to leave that country.
Nowadays we have a dog of the same breed (Australian Cattle dog) and her name is ANJING too! Out of the love we had for the first one.
We love our current dog, but still have wonderful memories of our little foster dog.
Kitty was an orphan. All the neighbor kids carried her around from house to house trying to get their parents to adopt her. I was hooked when I saw her cute little face. Kitty grew along with our children and went through being dressed up in doll clothes and wheeled around in a carriage to having to put up with a poodle named Little Guy who came along about five years later. Kitty came with us from New York to California and we had the good fortune to have her with us for 22 years. She was a great cat, extremely shy, but loveable on her own terms. She would make Little Guy run rings around her while she just laid on the grass and wagged her tail until he was exhausted. We used to call them Garfield and Yodi. We still miss her!
Chelsea was not my first dog but came to us as a 10 week old. She was a black and white Husky/Mix. We got her from the Friends of the Animals while we were living in California. We found out that we were the 4th people to have her. In fact the last man who had her, Friends of the Animals had to take the police with them because she was being abused. He was choking her and throwing her against the wall.
My son had just turned 2 in Feb. when we adopted her in May of the same year so they both grew up together. She was a very protective toward my son. In fact one of my customers would tease her as he walked by the fence line and I had told him not to do that any more. One time my son and some of his friends were playing on the lot with their cars when this particular customer came through the gate and hit her for no reason. Well because my son was there she bit him. I would always make a point of telling my customers that if my son was on the lot and she was there not to get near him because she would do that.
We moved to ND about 11 years ago and of course brought her with us. She was such a joy to have around and a very loving dog. When she turned 14 her age and a cancerous tumor appeared and we had to put her down. We will always remember her as the dog who no one really wanted but who we loved and she loved us.
Before we put her down though we bought our first Basset Hound and that is another story in itself.
My first baby was when i was only little, i think 4 or 5, his name was Simba coz i LOVED the Lion King at the time, he did anything i made him do, i used to strap him into my dolls pram and i would run him around everywhere, he didnt move or struggle, jus sat there. He was my baby but unfortunately, he was run over, we lived in suberbia and our neighbour ran him over by accident. Dad put him in the garbage (yer, i still wonder why he didnt burry my Simba), but i found him, and my nan always told me if a plant is dying or dead to put water on it and it comes back to life, so i thought the same thing would happen with Simba, my mum came out and saw me pouring a jug of water onto my precious boy. i hear this story so much and still tear up everytime, he was the perfect cat, and even though i was young, will never forget him =)
The first time we laid eyes on Gal, we weren’t thinking about getting a dog…at least not at that time. My then fiance and I were shopping for wedding invitations and came across him just in front of the print store. He was this tiny cutsie little thing, running around (or more like limping a little) the street, all scared. We picked him up and he was shaking like crazy. We asked people in the street, “is he yours?…do you know who he belongs to?” and no one seemed to have any information on him. So we took him to a vet, posted notices about him (only a little; we really liked him) and then took him home. The rest they say, is history!
My first dog was a dachshund named Molly. It is hard for me to put into words the experience I shared with Molly. My husband and I found her by accident in a pet store. She was our first pet together as a married couple. My husband and I do not have any children and he works in the Gulf of Mexico on an oil rig. Naturally Molly and I became inseparable. I did not work either so Molly became my whole entire world. I felt at times she was my only source of true love. Then in September 2007 Molly passed away from heart failure, she was 11 years old. I still find it hard to make it through the day. I have suffered depression so bad that I wanted to die just so I could meet Molly at the bridge. I will not share everything for those memories are something I want to keep private. But I will say this I will never love anything or anyone as much as I love Molly. I look forward to crossing the bridge one day.
My “Bud” The Cat…I Got him as a b-day present..actually held him on my lap – from Maryland to NJ……I never had a cat before & told my boyfriend – he had a week to become a dog……..or he was gone….He became more then that….14 yrs later…..he was the most social cat my friends & I ever knew. He was the one everyone looked for…..he was “Mr Social”….He passed away in June 2008 – which broke my heart!!
It took me months to get over that…I was literally forced to attend a pet adoption day @ my local Petco…..after hours of holding cats & kittens – I found my new friend….but he was being adopted by someone else….and they did not want his sister…she was not “Black” enough….I went to the volunteer & told her I wanted both…..The head guy went up & told the guy that the foster mom wanted them adopted togther…..his GF had other ideas & they gave him up…
Today I have 2 very happy kittens…fixed, shots – u name it……My duchy girl has been his & my rock…she is a scrappy 8 pds…..My O’Mal is 10 1/2 & a very big baby – I’m also lucky the foster Mom is involved…she knows the Mom Cat & until recently was our vet tech…she still keeps in touch…Could I be any more Lucky!!!
They will be a 1 year old on May 1st!…I know I am the Lucky one!!
my first pet, his name was Cookie. he was a jack russell cross corgi, and he came from my dad’s friend. he was the pick of the litter, and the cutest of them all. i was only 9 years old when we got him, and i was absolutely smitten by his loyalty. After time, the novelty of having a new puppy had faded, and I spent less and less time with him. He then deemed my helper, his owner. Therefore, he would protect her in any situation.
Cookie loved to play fetch, and run around. He was very good at jumping and we made a little obstacle course for him in our backyard.
One day, after I ate a bowl of ice-cream, I left it on the floor. He came to lick up the remnants. Being a brave and daring 9 year old, I tried to steal it from him to see whether he would bite me, and of course, he did. That day was the start of what would become the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
Let’s fast forward two years, I was 11, knew Cookie well and still loved him with all my heart. I was sitting next to him, stroking his fur gently. I got up to get a drink of water, and accidentally slipped and knocked the door where my maid was sleeping. He thought I was going to attack her. So he followed his instinct, and attacked me. He completely mauled my lip and face. I burst out into tears, not from the pain, but knowing that Cookie would have to go.
Cookie now lives in a pet sanctuary in Johor, Malaysia and is happier than ever. I still love him as much as I used to, and I miss him more than anything in the world. He was the one I would come to and talk about my problems, he knew all my secrets. The next time I visit him, there will be a lot of catching up to do. I love him, with all my heart.
Now I’m 13, and I have a miniature schnauzer, Daisy. I love her as much as I love Cookie, but Cookie has a special place in my heart.
Here’s my first cat – Kimbo – and me. We were inseperable. Later on when I was doing school exams he come and sit on my lap under the table and cheer me up. He was a bit grumpy at first and our female Siamese – Polo – was the friendly one. Then they seemed to swap purrsonalities and Kimbo just became lap fungus!
My Mum loved them too…
My first dog was Furry she was canish that was 45 years ago but I will never forget her she was so cute but silly once she give birth to 11 pupys under the cubburd it was hard to reash her only 3 of them survieved she was abble to tel if I am coming home whil I still a mile a way she keeps parking till I reash home.
Although I’d had a rabbit as a child, he was very much a second choice pet as I really wanted a cat but wasn’t allowed to have one, we lived too close to a busy road was the main excuse, but I think my parents weren’t keen.
Penny came into my life just after my second wedding anniversary. We had a phone call from a friend of my husband’s brother saying they had found a stray tabby kitten who they couldn’t keep and would we like her. I said “yes” and they brought her around a couple of days later. She had been found near a housing development called Pentwyn in Cardiff, so Penny was a natural name to give her, although this was soon expanded to Penelope Sarah Jane. She was a very smart kitty, who learned to answer to a number of variants on “Penelope” and even to Sarah. She was left in my arms and really didn’t want to go away with the people who’d rescued her. We bonded very quickly, I naturally thought she was the most beautiful cat I’d ever seen.
However, it wasn’t all sweetness and light, Penny bit and bunny kicked and we did occasionally fall out. In due course she had a daughter, Polly, and grandkittens, and she wasn’t too thrilled at being one of four. However, she remained very affectionate most of the time and, in old age, took to riding on my shoulder.
Penny left us at the age of 16, she had been asleep in the garden when she was disturbed by a dog. She lashed out at him and he bit back. She was taken to an emergency vet but did not survive the night, dying of shock as much as her actual injuries. It’s been almost nine years, and I still miss her.
Ever since I can remember, when Christmas and Birthdays arrived I would only ask for one thing: a little brother or a pet. Never got my way though…
Then, when I was 26 years old, me and my mom were the only two left in the household, I admit I kind of took advantage of the fact that she was getting through a divorce but, at the same time, I honestly believed that a pet would be good for her at this time. And so we got her.
Her name is Mushi. She lived on a friend’s farm with her siblings and her often disapearing mother. I was scared of cats, but wanted one of my own so badly!
I went there and there were two. One of them scratched me imediately, but Mushi stayed on my lap and never left. We were told she was a boy,I satyed up all night cuddling her and removing bugs she had on her and made her itch before I could give her something for it. She was 3 months old. Today, she is over one year and a half and, although we now have a new cat, a little terror named Nico, Mushi will always be my Mushi. She is now more distant than before, but still follows me everywhere, meows when I have to leave, greets me when I arrive. Purs when I’m near her. My mother is quite jealous I might add.
I am not, nor will I ever be prepared to lose her, can’t even imagine that. But for now we have a long way ahead of us and I vowed long ago to enjoy our time together and never take her for granted. Although I am now 28, with a business of my own and all sorts of achievments, Mushi is defenetly my biggest accomplishment and now I get why I had to wait 26 years for a pet, I was waiting for her :)
My first pet was a cat my Dad & Mom got herfor us, her name was Muzzy, she was gray, with black stripes she had a litter of kittens. they were all given away to friends.I guess I was about 5 or 6 she passed away.
My first dog name was Nelliemy sister and I recieved, her as a Christmas present she was all white
I was about 12, she she lived till she was about 10 yrs. old
My pet bianca makes our family complete, she broot my heart when she waggle her tale,, i think thats the happiest moment we done with each other,, i’m sure that all of the pet lover i know likes to saw their pets learn things,, like first bark,,, so cute… we also want to take some pictures because we also use to make it as primary picture,,, we make their foods to eat,,, we pay much attention to them…. thats what i feel in my first Baby girl BIANCA!!!!!!!!!
I remember when i was 10 years old it was my lola’s birthday, we go to PANSYONG or Holy Garden to visit her, My dad follow us late, but i was surprised when my dad go in holy garden with something in his t-shirt,,, a puppy,,,
I name it KIKAY because she’s black beauty… my mom doesn’t want her,, so i tell my mom to let her in or let me out??? and she pick to let KIKAY in because she wants me there… see, I and my mom is now together, and its all because of my pup KIKAY…….
I grew up with a menagerie of animals, but the first pet to be all mine was Milo, a guinea pig. When I moved into my first apartment and out of my childhood home, I went from 6 humans and 4 animals to just me. I wasn’t ready for the cat I wanted, and a nurse I worked with had an unexpected litter of guinea pigs. Milo was golden brown with beige and a shelter; he had hair instead of fur and it was very long. I would take Milo to work with me, at the nursing home, and the residents loved to save their salads for him and let him sleep in their laps. He was the best anti-anxiety med I could give out. He had no problem putting the cats in their places (once they came along) and he loved nothing more than snuggling with me under the covers. He broke my heart when he died of kidney failure, particularly when he wheeked and kissed me until his very last breath. I’ve had many pets since him, but he is the one I cherish the most.
When I was 7, we adopted 2 kittens. Unfortunately one of them did not live past her first birthday, due to failure to thrive (of course, she had been MY kitten and the survivor was my brother’s… but they’re cats! No one tells them that!).
The survivor was named Custard, after Strawberry Shortcake’s cat. She was a classic tortie. Over the years, she was a fierce hunter and a fiercely loyal friend. When I look back, I don’t know how I would have gotten through Middle School and High School without her. If I would come home and cry, she would come RUNNING to me and come sit in my lap and purr on me. It was as if she was saying “it will be okay, this will pass, see? someone loves you!” and it meant the world to me.
She also loved to be toweled off. She would intentionally go out when it was raining (since her, however, all other pets have been indoor only!) simply so that I, as a teen, would call her back in to the house so I could dry her off. We figured it out after awhile and would pull out the towel when she was dry and she’d stop going out in the rain.
When my brother and I went off to college, she did pretty well and adopted my dad, curling up on his torso (while he was sitting up!!) and holding him down.
As pets do, though, they get old and sick, and it was hard watching her fade. We knew the day had come when she wasn’t drinking water and had gone to hide under a chair she never hid under. My parents made that fateful call to the vet and as my mom was on the phone, Custard came out and stood there, rubbing my mom’s legs as if to say “yes, you’re right, it’s time. thank you.”
She was a great cat, a great friend, a loyal companion, and someone who makes me both smile and cry when I think of her, almost 11 years after we had to put her to sleep!
My first dog was Price a German Sheperd who was so sweet. I remember how much my Dad loved German Sheperd’s and surprised us with him one day. He was so lovable and had a beautiful coloring. Then after that I got Spanky a miniature poodle who I just adored. Many wonderful memories with my parents and out canine friends.
The first pet I remember having was a long-haired cat that my parents named Melody because she purred so much. She was black and white and very pretty but for some reason she didn’t like me much. She would jump out of places and bite me for no reason. Not just little nips, either. One day, I was so frustrated with her biting me, I picked her up and bit her on the tail (remember I was only 8 at the time). I still remember the mouthful of fur I got for doing that but after that we became best friends. I don’t think there has been a time since Melody that I have lived without cats in the house.
Our first dog was when I was still living with my parents (we were young ‘uns then). It was a black scottish terrier named Gaffer. He was the love of our lives and lived to 15 years old. He died in my dad’s arms and he buried him in the backyard (don’t know if that’s legal, but so be it).
Jose’ was my grandmother’s dog. He was a cute, little, tan chihuahua. We moved from Kansas to New York and I was devastated, at 5 years old, to leave my grandma, who babysat me. Grandma sent Jose’ to be with me. How difficult that must have been for her to lose both of us. Jose’ was my best friend, for obvious reasons. He was my link to grandma and a constant companion. When he was killed, years later, I thought I was going to die with him. My diary holds several pages, spanning more than a year, of “I miss Jose’.”
I got my first cat at age 10 from my elementary school PTA carnival. She was free, and I couldn’t believe they were giving away kittens, so I brought her home and named her Kitty. My mom wasn’t too happy, but we kept her anyway and she lived about 15 years. Now I have two cats. I couldn’t imagine living without a loving animal in my life.
My first pet was my Lexie and her story is bittersweet for me because I had to have her put to sleep only 5 days ago. Lets remember the good times she was a lab/beagle mix and so beautiful we got her from newspaper ad when she was 1 year old. She was a maniac she loved to play I remember fighting her for my spot on the bed she had to sleep between my husband and I. We became so close she stayed right by me when I was sick. She was a good protecter. She was there for each of my childrens births and loved them no jealousy. She loved swimming and going to camp. I thought she was part fish. She lived for 14 years I will always love and miss her. She was my best friend and I miss her everyday and I think I always will!!
The first pet that mistress actually remembers having was a havanese Siamese cat named Bronson. (There’d been a cat or to before that, but she doesn’t remember them.) Next, a little white Poodle named Rascal. Sometime after this, poor Bronson got run over, and they got another cat from someone who had saved it from some mean kids who were trying to drown it. They named her Ginger, and she had kittens twice.
They had to put Rascal, Ginger, and her last batch of kittens in the shelter when they moved to an apartment.
Eventually, they moved out of the apartment and I became their newest pet. Then they got Treader a couple of years ago.
My first dog was a cute little mix by the name of Daisy, she was so cute, she looked like a little fox. She had separation anxiety of what we know today, (years ago we were like what the heck is this dog doing) she would lick the walls then dig them with her front paws. My mom and I would have to quick spackle them and move furniture in front of the area before dad came home and got angry. Daisy lived a long happy life and died shortly after I married.
I still have my first dog. I never had dogs growing up because I’m allergic to everything and didn’t realize there were breeds I wouldn’t be allergic to. After years of research and testing my allergies on different breeds, we decided on a Standard Poodle. The search didn’t end there though. I needed a poodle from a responsible breeder because, the better the breeding, the less likely I’ll be allergic to the dog. But no responsible breeders wanted to sell to someone who’d never had a dog! It took a few more years but I finally found a breeder who gave me a chance. Now Zen is 4 years old with a little sister – a Portuguese Water Dog named River.
Well when I was young my cousins had a dog who always bit my feet and growled when I came near, so I was afraid of dogs and did not particularly like them as I grew to adulthood. . However, now that I am…um, shall we say…”older”….my Sparky has changed all that. He is my friend, companion, and takes up a huge space in my heart! He is now 4 years old and God willing we will grow old together. I cannot imagine life without him. Who says you can’t change as you get older?
My first was “Nala”. My little lion as I called her. I got her at just 4-weeks old. What a character! Very independent even at that young age. She was part feral, but domesticated very well. Every once and a while her lion nature came out but only because she was protecting herself. Definitely, didn’t like the vets, but after a while she did well. She would scare some people with her hissing and barring as I call it, but she was definitely a one owner kind of cat. This is how she got her name, from the Lion King movie.
I would say she was more like a dog than a cat. Her favorite toy was a piece of rolled up crinkly paper that she would catch in mid air. Quite commical! And of course, her mice, catnip toys, etc. She loved to play.
Brushing was another story, but she allowed me to do it and eventually I was able to cut her nails as well instead of vet visits. Nala was definitely one of a kind. She looked like a Maine coon. The whiskers were so………..long and I loved the fur growing in points from her ears. Had the greenest eyes with solid yellow backgrounds (which was the wild part of her).
As she got older, and because of her skittish nature at times, became very sick all at once. This was in 2007. I did everything I could for her, including taking her to Tuft’s University because my vet (who was excellent) could no longer do for her. Unfortunately, she ended up with so many illnesses, which they couldn’t explain, and passed on August 23, 2007. She was my love, my all and had just turned 13 yrs. of age. What a beauty! I still miss her dearly and think about her every day and every night. Nala was my friend and companion and its still very hard for me to get over.
My first cat came to me. The story goes like this..
I was working as a housekeeper, on the grounds were some feral cats, I decided i would catch one and take it home to be a pet outdoor cat and I did.
No sooner did i get it home and open the carrier it took off like a bat outta ……. I was calling it sayin here kitty kitty.. pssss pssss psss.. then this other cat came from the right, walked over and ate the food i had out for feral cat and never left. So I named her Neighbor.
Years later she was on the front lawn with me while I was doing the garden, some man stopped and said is that your cat? I told him the story and he laughed and said, guess what, that was my cat. He lived down the road a bit and I was afraid he would take her but never did.
Neighbor detected when I was pregnant with my third child before I knew. One day she jumped on my lap and started kneading my belly..
I didnt know what this was cause i never had a cat before, a couple weeks later when I found out i was pregnant I was amazed and thought she knew I was going to be a mommie. so she continued to do this thru the entire nine months kneading my big belly as it grew~
Anyway.. Neighbor was a very smart cat and often i would catch her coming out of the bathtub, until finally i found out she was peein down the drain. AMAzing..
Neighbor died probably around the age of 13 or somewhere around there, she wanted to go out but i knew she was sick and would never come back, so i made her comfy and left her in my room, within 2 hrs she passed away on my bedroom floor. We buried her in the back yard on the propertys edge. :( We miss you Neighbor
My first dog was a “monster”. He was a black great dane. He was so big, when my daughter was two she used to ride him like a horse. Lucky was the best dog in the world. he was my babysitter. When my daughter was a baby, he would follow the baby around. When she was outside he would lie down and make a circle with his body around her so she would be able to crawl away. He was the sweetest dog ever. He was my body guard as well. I still miss him.
My first dog really was with us before I was born so I will talk about the first dog we got while I was a child. My father and mother had recently had to put down their first dog, mentioned above, and my mother was so saddened that she said she didn’t want another dog. My father found out that a friend of his had puppies that he was giving away. My father said that he put his hand in the box and one puppy walked over to him and kissed his hand. He said that she must be the one and took her home. I was 4 years old at the time and when my dad walked in the house with her, he put his finger to his lips to shhhh me so my mother wouldn’t hear my excitement. My mother was in the bath tub and my dad walked in and put our new puppy on her chest. My mom said over and over no, no, no, no….and our new puppy, who we named Maggie, just kissed my mothers face. She was a wonderful dog and when my father became disabled and unable to work, she became my fathers companion at home. We had her until she was 18 years old. She was truly a part of our family as she watched me griow from the age of 4 to the age of 22.
My first kitty was a beautiful calico that my parents adopted from a nearby home in our neighborhood. I was 2 years old at the time, and when my mom asked me, “What should we name this little kitten?”, I exclaimed, “Buffy!” The name was from a character on Sesame Street. :)
Buffy was my best friend throughout my childhood. She had the sweetest personality, and she would let me hold and pet her for hours. She was an indoor/outdoor cat, and whether she was way up in a tall tree, or scrapping with the German Shepherd next door, she proved that she was downright fearless. In the evenings, she would cuddle up next to me with such sweetness. We were best friends until I was 17, and she will always hold a special place in my heart. There will never be another cat like Buffy!
I hope I don’t cry as I write this. My first cat was a gorgeous (aren’t they all?) tabby (brown, beige, gray, white w/black stripes), he had a white “napkin” around his neck and 4 white paws. His name was “Bobo” my ex husband and I found him on a frigid snowy day in Cleveland on our way to his mother’s house. Bobo had scaled a 6 ft chain link fence and I said “Look at that gorgeous cat”, he then ran and hid under a car in the parking lot. We had to leave and came home about 8 hrs later and I said “do you think that cat is still under that car?” My ex said “no” but I had to check. Sure enough there he was huddled by a rear tire. We lured him in with food and for 2 weeks I read Lost and Found sections, searched for posters but no one was looking for him. I told my husband that once I took him to the vet he was mine. He became mine and was the most wonderful companion/friend/confidant of anyone or anything in my life. We named him Bobo because he looked just like my ex’s cat who had passed whom he adored and was named Bobo.
Bobo was unusually tuned into my feelings. He would lick my hand when I cried, he always slept with me, he rarely let me out of his sight. When I got divorced he made the 2 hr drive in the car with me when I ventured off to Michigan. In his later years he developed heart trouble (he also had had emergency surgery for SIX kidney stones) a condition he also shared with me. My vet here in Michigan prolonged his life for 2 years when we thought he would pass much, much sooner. My vet had said he had never, ever seen a bond between an owner and their cat that matched the depth of the bond I had with Bobo. We were like 2 souls, one animal, one human. Sadly 2 years ago I had to put him to sleep, the hardest decision of my life. His heart and kidneys were starting to fail, I prolonged it as long as I could. I always said when/if he stopped eating that would be the “time” because Bobo also shared an obsession with food like me lol. We had him put to sleep at home, on the couch. In some ways I regret that decision for the vivid memories it evokes. I sat there petting him and kissing him until he took his last breath. I broke down and laid on him lightly kissing his fur, (I cut a piece of his fur to save). I had Bobo creamated so he would always be here. For days before he passed I would lay on the bed with him when he was ill and thank him over and over for his never ending protection of me, his love, his comfort, his silliness, his devotion, his loving spirit. He lived just past his 18th birthday. He had a long and good life and knew how desperately he was loved. I too have never known a love like that between an animal and owner. My Bobo is an angel now and I am sure he is watching over me. I have a Sheltie and another cat whom I adore and love with all of my heart but my precious Bobo will always and forever have a separate section of my heart that I don’t think anyone can penetrate. I miss and love my precious Bobo.
Kelly – My First German Shepherd
For most of my life I had always wanted a German Shepherd Dog, I used to watch Rin Tin Tin as a child and have loved the breed ever since, my mum was always anti dog but my dad had a love of this breed just like me so at the age of 28 yrs for Christmas my dad produced this tiny bundle of fluff which was Kelly and it was our secret what breed she was we told mum she was a mongrel as this was the only way she would be allowed to stay. I said I would not spoil her and treat her like a baby, needless to sat that changed.
Kelly with Meg my second dog
Kelly was the most dominant female dog I or any friends had ever seen, once fully grown she was also very powerful, I had the hardest time trying to take her to doggy classes as she would never behave herself and we were asked to leave as the trainers washed their hands of her and said I would never be able to train her and I would be better off finding her another home and getting myself another, but I loved her too much to give up on her and carried our training at home. She grew into adulthood and became a very well behaved dog and I loved her so much, certain people she showered with affection whether they wanted it or not and others she disliked she let them know.
I had eleven wonderful years and most of those years she was on medication for various ailments, the vets decided to change the medication for her hips and within three days she was dead, I don’t blame the vets but if they had left the medication who knows I might have had a couple more years with my girl. That was eleven years ago and my heart is still broken.
We always had pets in my parents’ house from the first day I can remember, a bird box in our kitchen window filled with budgies and canaries. In the winter they were kept in cages indoors but as soon as spring broke in Montreal, the bird box would be filled with the songs and chucks of our own flock.
The first pet that I bonded with was Twinkles, a sky blue budgie that lived with us for 14 years. Twinkles had the run of the house. The cage door was seldom closed. He used to fly into my bedroom in the morning, hide under my bed, and when I stepped out, would peck my feet and then fly up to my shoulder to accompany me everywhere. He ate breakfast with me, perched on the edge of my cereal bowl. When Twinkles died I could never quite get over his passing. I was in my teens.
When I married my wife and I decided to get a dog. Our first was Sheba, a Sheppard-Lab mix, the most gentle giant. I’d never had a dog and it was an entirely different experience. Sheba was with us for 14 years before she passed away in my arms. She saw the birth of our daughter, our move to a house in Toronto, and weathered my frequent absences as I traveled on business. My wife told me Sheba would cough when I was away and when I got home the cough would vanish. I’ll never forget Sheba. Her portrait hangs in my office.
We’ve had 3 dogs since, Katie, a Sheltie who lived 16 years, Molly Joe, a coon hound who died from cancer at age 9, and now Maya, our red miniature 3-year old Poodle. All have given us great memories. All were and are unique characters, with wonderful personalities and sometime wacky behaviors. All who have passed were loved and are missed.
I cannot imagine being without a dog. I’m a better person because of them, more compassionate, more caring, and able to have glimpse of the world through another creatures eyes.
The one baby that came to mind because I have had so many but it would be the most memorable would be a siamese sealpoint named “Tia”. She was reaching out to me and crying in her language at the S.P.C.A. many years ago. She was 5 years old and she was a beauty. The place did not spay animals then,so she came home intact and very happy. She was treated like our first baby and she had her own space in our house but she thought she was a human. So we treated her as such,she had her place at the table and her own plate and she even had her own chair. Tia was a person in another life…I am sure and she loved us and we even got her a male for that time when she was to give us her first born. He had to be the same color and be a male and we gave them 3 days in her bedroom and she came out very happy and very satisfied. Siamese cats are very vocal in and out of heat. I have heard that they are not sociable but not our Tia. The landlord at the time moved and we got a new landlord(we were told to get ahold of a place for our heart or lose the apartment). So we had to take our baby out to the country to a farm and let her go but when we went out to visit her she would come bounding over tall grass and we would cry because we would have to go and leave her there. This man who owned the farm let his german shepherds out and they caught her and we never seen our “Tia” again. I have never owned another siamese cat again. For quite awhile I heard her call and then she stopped calling. I will never forget my “Tia”
The first dog that I really remember being a huge part of my life was Princess a Beagle mix. I was 9 or 10 when we found her along the side of a deserted country road. According to the vet she was only about 4 weeks old but already had big attitude, when my mom got out to get her Princess growled and barked at her. She was queen of the house and ruled the other animals with an iron fist. She even had our 90lb Lab Nugget afraid of her and he out weighed her by about 70 lbs. She was very protective of my brother and I and would walk me and my friends to the bus stop every morning. Once we were safely at the stop she would turn around walk home and scratch at the front door for my mom to let her in. We had to put her to sleep just shy of her 12th birthday. She had arthritis in her back and back legs and although it had been controlled for quite a while with periodic shots it became obvious that they weren’t working anymore and she was in great pain. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. As long as I live I’ll swear she looked at me while we were alone in the room and told me it was okay, she was ready.
Speaking of creative names, my first cat was named Kitty.
We did get really crazy with the 2nd one though she was solid black so we named her…Blacky. ;)
And thanks for the blog post idea: http://www.livngoodjewelry.com/2009/04/first-pet-memories.html
Ah, Boooda…Furry orange bastard. I loved that cat. A girl I worked with had a cat who had kittens. I went over to pick one out and this adorable orange fuzzball started climbing my leg. I thought he liked me…No, he was trying to eat me! I don’t think he ever figured out he was a cat – he was just the fuzzy guy who hung out with us. He’d play “fetch” and “chase” and he loved car rides. He would even “pick up the phone” if someone called and left him a message (Thanks Steve…) He understood doorknobs and figured out about deadbolts. If he had been born with thumbs, he probably would have taken over the world.
I just got my first dog a few years ago from a shelter outside of Los Angeles. She is a black pug mix who we named “Gracie” after comedinne Gracie Allen. She is now 4 and just the best! I don’t know how she puts up with me, but I don’t know what I ever did without her!
I had my first dog for only six weeks. I was a newlywed and told my new husband I wanted a baby or a dog and you canrest assured we ran to the local pet shop as fast as he could get us there. She was a beagle/terrier mix and I fell in love. We named her Candy but she soon became very ill. From vet to vet we ran and I was up through the night giving her medicine and food in an eyedropper. My uncle also adopted a pet from that store and his dog was ill as well. Three days after he got his dog she died and my Candy followed after six weeks–distemper. I have had other dogs since then but Candy was my first and will always be in my heart.
My first pet was a terrier/beagle mix named Alice. I was pretty young and Alice always knew when I was upset and would come near and lick my face. Was it the salty tears? Did she just like to lick my face when I talked to her? I think not! We didn’t have her for very long as my dad was allergic to her. My next pet was a hamster and I called him Lester. He loved to run in his plastic hamster ball. I think he got loose, but I can’t remember. I’ve had three previous cats (Cozy, Chelsea and Tia) who died of old age and now I have a siamese cat name Renoir (Rennie). He sticks to me like glue! He also plays fetch. His latest fave toy is twisted varicolored pipe cleaners with a bell from the pet store attached.
my first cat was named, precious, i have had other cats before her but she was the one, i had the longest. i got her when she was 6 weeks old and she was twelve when she died of cancer. it just about killed me, she was and always will be, my sweet baby girl. i have 11 cats now. but i still miss precious, every day.
My first dog was a Sheltie, named Sable. She was my best friend, helped me through everything. Everyone always said she was more human than dog, I trained and treated her like my child. She knew people by their names, colors of her toys, names of her toys, she basically knew everything i said to her.. she never needed a leash, and always wanted to be by my side. When you had a bad day, she would nuzzle you and give you kisses. she always made things better. I hit a low point in my life, and apparantly so did she. She died in front of me at 9 1/2 yrs old, I can’t get the image out of my head or the thought that i could have prevented it somehow, even though i couldnt . It has been 2 1/2 years since her passing, and i cant get it over it.. a part of me died with her, and i just wish she was here!! I miss my best friend!
My first cat was a family pet while growning up. She was in a box marked “free” at a garage sale with several other kittins. She was black and white and only truely loved my Dad. She pasted away at the age of 16. Since then my husband and I currently have 5 indoor cats (Zelda, Zie, Zoe, Zandra and Abigale) and we are feeding two outside cats. All of our girls have been drop off or rescue kitties. We can’t even think about our life with out these wonderful little kids! They pretty much have the run of our house and would never dream on sleeping anywhere but the big beds at night!
I was 5 when we went to a farm and I got my first cat. She was a fire-orange tabby, the runt. I named her PUFF after the “Dick & Jane” readers we studied in 1st grade. Puff was our guard cat; she attacked the mailman so many times we had a “Beware Of Attack Cat!” sign on the front door! She LOVED to lay in the sun coming thru the windows; she’d get so hot you could hardly touch her. She was like a sundial – you could tell what time it was by her position on the livingroom floor.
In July 2008 during my vacation – I took my boys to visit 2 week old Chocolate Labrador Retriever puppies. I fell in love instantly. The dog was actually going to be for my 10 year old son – as my husband felt every ten year old boy needs a dog. Thus the reason for the visit. The weeks before she came home was like I was waiting for another child. I took her home in September and she has changed my life for ever. The love that I have for her is unbelieveable – I think of Cocoa always and can’t wait to get home and see her wagging tail and beautiful face. (and to see if she caused any damage) She does not judge me and accepts me for what I am. She waits patiently for me to take her for her walks. I look forward to when we are out and we see all her friends – which I know by name. She is very playful and excited to be outside, playing with the kids or socializing with her pet friends. I love doing little tricks with her and seeing the progress we are doing in her training. I did not grow up with pets and always thought I would never want a dog (or cat). Best thing I ever did – she is my girl all the way. My friends constantly comment how they cannot believe the change in me. I put her first, along with my family. Bath time is quite adventurous. She will be one in July – and a party is being planned for her.
My first dog was a red smooth haired dachshund which we named Susie. My family bought Susie, from a Chinese family, while we were living in Malaysia. Susie loved to catch frogs and to stand at the top of the hill and bark. She could bark with a T-bone steak bone in her mouth. When we left Malaysia and went back to Tulsa, OK., we had Susie sent over. My father failed to let the airport folks know that Susie was to come to Tulsa and she ended up in Oklahoma City. We waited & waited. We finally had to hire a lawyer to track her down for us. Incidentlly the lawyers name was Mr. Mason. Mr. Mason found Susie for us and we all jump in the car and went to Oklahoma City as fast as we could. The man at the airport said that if she had been there the rest of that we he was going to take her home with him. Poor Susie was lonesome and smelled bad, but as soon as she heard our voices her little tail did not stop wagging. We had Susie for several more years. My oldest brother was really attached to her and he was in Vietnam, during the war when she passed away. He cried like a baby when he found out. Because of Susie being our first experience with dachshunds and our realizing how much we loved that breed, I have had 5 more dachshunds since Susie.
First remembered 4 legged was ChiChi, she was more my brothers than anyone else’s. I remember her most because I was afraid of dogs. Then we moved and I meet this Standard Poodle and became friends with him. I then went home and asked for a dog. My mom went out with friends that weekend and while at her local hangout someone had a little dog on the bar. He was looking for a home for her.
Well mom went and took her home. So she was my first dog.
Well, my only kitty kat as a child, I barely remember. But my very first as an adult is Sugar. He is the most beautiful, sweetest, smartest, kindest boy in the entire world. I never wanted a kitty kat before Sugar talked Rufus Puppy into letting him adopt us.
Well, all I can say is that if you don’t like kitty kats, you would surely love Sugar, he is the very best boy!
And if not for Sugar, we would not have Sapphire Kitty and Sadie Lady Kitty.
Sheryll, Rufus Puppy, Sugar Kitty, Sapphire Kitty and Sadie Lady Kitty.
When I was 2 my parents took me and my brother to the pound to pick out a dog. There were all sorts of dogs there and my parents were looking at a small quiet dog but my brother and I insisted on “Sugar” a 6 year old lab/basset hound that was arrrrooing LOUD as if to say “pick me! pick me!”. My brother and I wanted to call her “Peanut Butter” after our favorite food but my Dad decided on the name Samantha. Samantha lived to be 17, she was my best friend ever growing up.
I sure wish I could figure out how to post all my ‘kids’ photos on here. Can anyone help me?
Sheryll & Critters.
My first pet was a turtle that I named Noah. My grandmother raised me and did not think I could handle a pet. When I was 5 I told her I really wanted a pet so she caught a turtle in the garden and told me I could keep it in the basement. I had that turtle for 3 years.
My very first dog of my own. We had had dogs when I was growing up, but now that I was on my own I wnated my very own dog. I was working at the old Angell Memorial Animal Hospital in Boston and for some reason I had to go to the PTS room to get something. That was when I saw a very sad German Shepherd sittng in a cage waiting fo be PTS. The card on the cage said it had bitten the landlord’s kid. I felt an instant connection with that shepherd the moment our eyes met. I lived alone and had no kids. There were no kids in my building. I wanted that dog. He was my destiny. I went to the head of the department and pled my case forthe dog and was granted permission to adopt him
WEll, Ranger went on to be a truly wonderful dog. He ws friendly with everybody and actually loved the kids that we met on our walks. I left Angell Memorial and went on to a career in Standardbred horse racing. Ranger spent all his time with me at the barns and rode in thevan when we moved horses from one race track to another.
He was my best friend. There was nothing he would not do to please me. The bond was so close.
When he died 15 years later, I had him creamated and still have his ashes.That was 30 years ago. I have had many dogs since, sometimes more than one at a time, but none have come close to Ranger.
I was 20 and into things that I was abusing and not taking care of myself the way I should have. I think we all have had a rough past in one way or another-especially when trying to deal with pain without appropriate guidance. I took it to the extreme. Basically, I fell into addiction. My mother had found out and very concerned for my well-being. She was desperate to help in any way she could. She told me that I needed something in my life that I could take care of and love… she said that she was going to find me a dog. Mom said that if I used again or neglected the dog-she would take the dog away from me and wouldn’t think twice about it. She called me at work one day and told me that she was going to pick me up to meet a dog-a Miniature Dachshund. I immediately became concerned at the thought of having a ‘Weiner’ dog. I know it sounds awful-but at the time I was 20! I went to meet Brandi-a beautiful, black and tan, long-haired mini-dachsy. She was so petite. Brandi needed a home. Her previous owner couldn’t take care of her any longer and the stipulation was that I would have to have her spayed if I took her. I picked Brandi up-hesitant and unsure if this was the one for me. I proceeded to hold her like a baby-an infant-in my arms. She immediately fell asleep. I fell in love instantly and started crying that I would be so lucky to have a beautiful ‘baby’ like Brandi. I’ve had her for 9yrs now… I can’t believe how fast time goes by. I am grateful that I was able to quit my addiction and focus on more important things in my life… myself… and Brandi. Brandi is a bit neurotic with playing ball, she hates her picture taken, she loves to be wrapped up like a baby, and she loves her shower! She is the most perfect ‘baby’. I fall more and more in love with her everyday. I could never imagine my life without her… I am so grateful and thankful for being her ‘mumma’. It seems that this was a definite ‘meant-to-be’.
My first dog was an Irish Setter. We begged my dad who grew up on a farm for a dog and he wouldn’t let us have one because we lived in the city and it wouldn’t be fair to the dog. We found an ad in the paper for a free dog and called. It was Kelly. She had been hit by a car when she was a puppy and the owner spent all this money to have her fixed up. She had a bad hip but otherwise was very healthy. We talked mom into getting her and when dad got home, he’s like “Whose dog is this”. We all came to love Kelly, even my mom who is terrified of animals. Needless to say, she lived her life out with us until one day she had fallen asleep under my mom’s car (we now lived in the country to keep my horses without boarding them), and when mom went to leave for work, she couldn’t move fast enough. Mom was horrified and we rushed her to the vet. Unfortunately, she was so old and her back end was crushed. We ended up having her put to sleep. Kelly was cherished and lived a long life. We used to laugh because she would point at bugs and loved to try to catch bottle rockets on the 4th of July. She was the first of many dogs to come and I will love her forever.
My parents had Lucky first. He was a German Shepard mix. Very spoiled and yet very loving. From the beginning it was love at first sight. We lived on the fifth floor in Manhattan and our play area was the roof. He would not let me anywhere the edge of the roof. He was not told, but instinctively put his body between me and the edge even though I was so small I could not even reach the ledge. He was my special friend, protector and brother.
I was born on New Years Day in 1942, in a small farming community in Mississippi. A neighbor of ours raised beautiful German Shepherds and happen to have a litter ready to sell. They were beautiful silver and black pups, and he gave one to my parents so she could grow up with me. They named her Ginger and I was walking and growing up, she was my shadow, going everywhere with me inside and outside. She slept on a quilt next to my bed and if it got really cold, she would get on the bed and curl up near me. We only had a fireplace for heat, so we felt winters sting easily. Ginger lived til I was 15 years old and died in her sleep one night. Curled up next to me with her paw across my chest, but when I hugged her she was cold and stiff. My Dad’s brothers came by for coffee and the three of them buried her at the end of the flower bed, under the peach tree. We had a funeral and I spoke and thanked God for that wonderful loving creature that he sent to share my life. I have many fond memories of my best friend.
My first pet was a really fluffy black and white cat, My parents took me to my Grandmas house and there she was.I thought she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen of course I was only 6 years old at the time so I had not seen to many things yet, my Grandpa had passed away not too much before this time and I missed him alot.I thought this cat was Grandmas cat,so I asked her what her name was, and she said “I don’t know, what is her name, she’s your cat?” I was surprised!
I said” well her name is Puff ” because we were reading in our readers about Dick and Jane and they had a cat named Puff, what else would I name her? she was the best thing I ever got she showed me about the life of female cats and birthing of baby kittens which back then was ok now it’s not a good idea, you need to have your pets spayed or nutered, like I had Max nutered
My first dog was Tammy.She was a mixed breed but had more golden retriever in her than anything else.She was just the most fun.Weather taking a run with me or sleeping in my bed she was always around.I learned that when you take on the responsibilty of owning a dog you must be there for the full life of the animal.Tammy was the family dog but I always thought of her as mine.She didn’t live her full life out with me and for that to this day I regret.As I became an adult I made sure that my next dog would never leave my side and I was able to keep the promise.Thank You Tammy
My friend had a female black lab who just had puppies. I had always wanted one, so she invited me over to look at the litter. A little gray and white female cane over to say hello. It was love at first sight! She told me I could have her. So I thanked my friend, tucked the puppy into my jacket and headed home.
I had every intention of sneaking her up to my room, care for her and eventually tell my parents. Well, I never made it to my room, thanks to my little sisters. They kept asking what I had in my jacket. And when I would not show them, they called Mom. When she saw the puppy she was very angry. Once she calmed down, she called my dad at work and had him pick up some dog food. This is how I learned about dogs – and siberians to be specific. She had her moms ears and feet and her dads color and tail.
From that moment on we were best friends. I called her Lucky, because as my mom puts it, she is Lucky to stay here. I had to agree with that because my parents were very mad about me bringing her home. Gradually, she wore them down with her warm kisses.`And for nine years we were inseperable.
One of the saddest days of my life came when she disappeared. I had gone to stay with my aunt for the summer, and when I came back home she was gone. I went looking for her, to no avail. I still miss my girl! My Lucky Girl!
My first pet was a kitten, Mitts, he was so small. I still have him now, he has gone through a lot such as; losing his leg in a dog attack and getting hit by a car 3 times! He is all black w/ 4 (well 3)little white paws, I have had him since kindergarten. He is the best cat you would ever have!
My childhood kitty was a love. She showed up at our house uninvited and Grandma let her stay. In trying to name her I thought she looked just like the Pussywillows that grew in our back yard. She was a soft gray with a little white. So “Pussywillow” it was. She was a wonder undemanding friend. I taught her to play catch with a small ball, and she always cooperated by pushing it back. At one point, she also shared her abode with a canary without complaint. She was a love.
My first pet was a black and white cat, I named Spotty Cat! I know what a name, but I thought it was pretty cool. I have had other cats: Daisy, Mouse, Whiskers, Buffy, Beethoven(he was deaf), Smokey, Skinny, Bob, Smokey, Dixie and Levi, ect… My first dog was an AKC Registered Australian Shepherd named Warrior. He was my buddy and protector. He was stolen from our front yard and my mom and I found him dead 3 days later. I’ve never fully gotten over his passing. My 2 cats I have now are Smokey and Levi. Levi, was suppose to be my husbands cat, but Levi took up with me, much to the dismay of my cat Smokey.
My first dog was Skippy. My grandpa had gone to the store and when he came out someone had left Skippy in the front seat of his car. (Nobody needed to lock the doors then, or even take the key out of the ignition!) My grandpa brought Skippy to our house and we had him for years. Skippy moved from Missouri to California with us and lived to be very old. When he died my sister wrote a poem for his funeral and my mom still has the poem. He was a very special dog. I don’t know what kind he was, fuzzy white with brown spots and a long plume tail. About the size of a peke.
My first favorite cat was “Sweety Pie” – a long haired Persian which my father went to a pet store and bought for me when I was about l0 years old – because I loved cats and was always bringing a stray home. We kept “Sweety Pie” for several years until we moved to Arkansas and then she left home and took up residence at another home – which we decided they could keep her as we had grown up and didn’t want a cat at that time. Jeanette Shaddox
When I was 5 my parents took me to the Humane Society to adopt a kitten. It was orange. I think it was a boy. We only had it 3 days when my father got very angry with me about something and took the kitten away. I screamed and begged him not to take it away but he did and took it back to the Humane Society. I never saw it again. I never got over that and never trusted my father again.Thank you so very much for dragging up such a painful incident in my life.
Our first dog was a mix of Australian/Cairn terrier. As a child, I was PETRIFIED of dogs, and wouldn’t go outside if I saw any dog. When a neighbor’s dog had puppies, my sister took me to see them, and they were so little and cute, I wasn’t afraid. We begged and begged our parents for one, and they finally agreed – I found out years later that they did this only because they thought (correctly) it would get me over my fear of dogs. We named her Tasha – by getting out a map of Australia and randomly pointing at it to come up with a name! (At that time, Tasha wasn’t a name you ever heard, unlike today). Our older sister and brother-in-law took Tasha’s sister puppy and named her Muffet. Today I can’t pass up any animal, I love them all, especially my current 7-yr old Shih-Tzu named Sweet Sarah!
it was christmas eve and i had to wait until midnight to open gifts it it was funny because i had all these things for a dog but had no dog so when everything was done i got to throw the wrappings away and they told me that there was a big box out in the garage and i look in there and these was a sheltie puppy i was surprised and i named him julies munch abunch but we called him ralph i was about 10 yrs old when i had my first dog
When I was ten years old, my parents took me to a home that had eight daschund puppies. When I began to pet them I could see that they were blocking the smallest puppy from getting petted. He was the runt of the litter. I choose that small puppy and named him Fritz.
Fritz became my best friend! I told him all my secrets and he always patiently listened.
Fritz lived to be thirteen, but we had thirteen very special years together.
I will always think of him as a very special blessing from God!
The first dog I owned was a yellow Labrador Retriever named Dino. He was a great companion dog, a joy to walk and to share living space with. I got him at Big River Labradors in Garden Prairie, Illinois.
I grow up in the Philippines and came over to the US in 2005 with my husband. I felt very empty and homesick so I purchased a my first “American shorthair” from Jack’s aquarium, hence he was named Jack. He is a gray and white tabby. my husband does not like cats and I fought with him tooth and claws este nails to keep Jack. Though Jack may not be my first cat coz I grow up in a house field with cats and dogs but I still consider him my first cat here in the US where I should say started my life all over again. He was special coz he is a very good listener and stays my side all the time. We came through some rough times when we first came over in the US but Jack made life easier. I always look forward to his sunny smile everytime I come home from work. He is always there to greet me and shower me with kisses. But this story has a very sad ending when I lost Jack when he was about 10 months old. I was about to lose my mind when that happened. I went to look for him everywhere and went to the county shelter several times, hoping he will show up there but it didn’t happen. I was so heart-broken that I vowed not to have another cat again but one day a friend brought me another furball. I was skeptical to own another cat but I eventually gave in. I may have lost Jack but I was hoping and praying that someone had picked him up and gave him a good home. Now, I have 2 beautiful girls named Lucy and Winky but Jack will hold a special place in my heart no cat will ever replace.
According to family legend (courtesy of my mom), my first cat followed us home from the park – in the back of the car! I, as a precocious two-year old, dragged a boneless, purring tortiseshell cat over to my mother, and demanded that we take her home. After asking around and finding that she had been living in the park for several weeks, Mom agreed – I think she guessed by the death grip I had on the poor cat that I wasn’t taking no for an answer. My older brother named her after a girl he had a crush on, to my disgust. I would have come up with something far more clever than that! (At two, I was probably thinking something along the lines of Queen Kitty…maybe Katie wasn’t so bad…). Katie was a mighty huntress, and an unfortunately prolific breeder – every time my parents took her to the vet to be spayed, she turned out to be pregnant. She was a fiercely proud, wildly independent cat, except with me. As far as she was concerned, I was more her kitten than any of her feline offspring were. She slept curled around the top of my head every night, and met me at the corner of my street when I came home from school. When I was ten, a neighbor kicked Katie and broke her pelvis. The nerve damage was so severe that she would not have been able to walk again, let alone prowl, pounce and slink. We had to put her to sleep, and her last moments were spent in my lap a final time. I have had several cats since then, all with their own distinct purrsonalities, but Katie made her mark in a few very important ways – almost every cat I’ve had since her has been a wildly independent, incredibly affectionate tortiseshell.
My first dog was Samantha (Sammy), a half collie half golden retriever. I got her when I was 2 and she was MINE! She protected me, licked me when I fell and scraped myself, came to me when I cried and let me bawl on her back, followed when I rode my bike, snuggled when I napped, just a great companion for an only child. We had other dogs, but Sam knew she was Alpha but would allow the smaller dogs to sit in front of her when it came to treat time. She was kind, considerate and loving. When I was about 13, she started having seizures which only got worse with time. When I was 15, she had one so bad that we had to call the vet to come out and put her to sleep. It was a great 13 years with her! I have MANY pictures of her, just none on my computer (which needs to change). My love of dogs since then has grown, but none have been like Sammy! Sam will always be numero uno in my heart!
My first dog’s name was Gitta. We lived in Germany. She was a German Shepard and my grandpa trained that dog diligently, every day, after work because I saw them both through the window, walking up and down the walk way and she obeyed voice commands. She was, in my eyes, the smartest dog alive. She was a year older than I and was my sister (I was an only child), my baby sitter, my companion, our protector (my grandma’s and mine, when we were alone because the men were all at workd)and guardian of the family…we lived in the country with no immediate neighbors and Gitta was always there to the rescue. She was everything any dog could ever be and more. She kept intruders off the property and I had a great deal respect for that dog. I would never, ever subject her to lowly child’s play or silly doggy talk. (I had lots of cats to dress up in baby clothes) Gitta and I spent a lot of time together and knowing she was near, made me feel safe. She lived to be 12 or so when she had to be put down due to hip dysplasia. I will always remember her fondly and to this day always yearned for another German Shepard, but never had the space or opportunity to get one. Gitta was the best and smartest dog in the whole, wide world!
My first kitty was a Himalayan breed whom I named Winter Daisy Snow, because most of her coat was white. She had the most beautiful blue eyes, which developed gold flecks later on. I got her when I was 7 (I am 313 now), but I never knew her birth date or where my mother got her from. She was a bit odd for a cat. If she heard the vacuum cleaner being pulled out of the closet (the canister one, not the upright), she would COME running, and if she didn’t get a vacuuming, she would make a pest of herself until she got her fur vacuumed. Also, she liked blueberry muffins for some reason. I lost her at 8 years + when an antifreeze leak from a now-long-ex-aunt’s car, which had been left in our driveway, got detected by her nose and lapped at by her tongue. Her liver and kidneys gave out, and we had to take her to the vet’s for a fatal injection of anesthetic/sedative. She was a real sweetheart of a cat, and it hurt to lose her to a human’s negligence. But, a few years later, I got Vanilli, who has been with me for a little over 16 years. Vanilli and her sister, Milli (yes, we DID in fact name them after the infamous lip-synching song duo!) won’t be lasting too much longer, and when they’re gone, I will probably wait for a while before another kitty becomes part of my life.
My first cat was named PC I named him after Palmer Courtland from All My Children when I was watching soaps. He was white and I did not quite know about cats then like I do now. But I did know that it did take much time to train them. He scared me in the beginning with his purring. I did’nt know what it was. I actually call the vet to ask about it. ( DON’T LAUGH) that is how clueless I was. Since then I have had three cats. The one I have now is a Calico and her name is Callie and she is the first girl cat I have owned. She is very different from the boy cats I have had. Do not want any one to bother her but me. I love her. She is my consent companion, especially at night when my husband is at work.
Sakari is my first dog. Look her up. All the details are on her page
I have lots of photos, but haven’t loaded them onto the site.
She’s sitting right next to me now.
She is full of sweetness which is what her Eskimo dog name means.
His name was Herman and he was a blue persian. He was just a ball of blue fur when I was given him by a neighbor, and he grew into a majestic ratter. He would jump down into the outside toilets to catch rats. God forbid at this day and age would I ever let a specimen like that to leave the house, but, my Mom wouldn’t allow him in the house. She finally gave him to a woman whose apartment was overun by mice. I’m sure the woman loved him dearly, but I CRIED OVER HIM A LONG TIME !!
my first dog,well i had 2. i was about 3 or 4 and we adopted 2 dogs, golden retrevers.one was red tho idk if it was a goldien. their names were duke and lucy. i still have pics of them. un fortunatley they had been given to us because the previous owner knew they had valley feaver. and didnt tell us.. they died about a year.. but i had alot of good times with them when i was a kid.
As the youngest of 3, everything from dogs and cats to snakes, frogs and lizards came into our lives. Heck, even a turtle, fish, birds. But they weren’t really mine.
When I was about 9 or 10, my Daddy got me a pony. The pet of my dreams!! There after, horses were all there was in my world.
This year marks my 30th wedding anniversary. Through the years my husband and children have had many different dogs, cats, fish, birds, a goat or two, and a piglet. But no more horses since I got married.
Four years ago I got MY very first dog. An anniversary present from my husband… A 6 week old female Pembroke Welsh Corgi. I fell instantly in love and have felt that way ever since. I miss my horses but I can live without them. As long as I have a man who loves me so much, two terrific grown-up sons and my little Corgi.
Buffy was my second dog and my first dog That I remmber alot about!
Kujo was my first dog but he was shot by the dumb neighbors.
Buffy and I were pals! She was my best friend and loved eating the crust off of my bread( i hate crust on bread). I was about 2 when I had her!
My 1st kitty was named Yo-Yo,an adorable seal point siamese.I had her from the time I was 5 until I was 20.She was spunky until the end.She loved going outdoors and nose around in my neighbors garden,she didn’t do anything destructive so they didn’t mind.She also would eat alot of grass,and loved catching birds and other various wildlife.Most the time she’d bring them to us uninjured so we would get them from her and let them go.The funniest thing she would do was(typical siamese behavior toward non-family members)She would sit on my boyfriends lap acting all friendly,so he would be petting her and without warning she would give him a good hard nip,then take off running.She was very intelegent because he turned out to be a Jerk,and she must have known it.To us in the family she was very loving.She would sleep in my arms at night.I was devastated whe she died of natural causes.She is always in my heart.
Growing up I had a parakeet named Pretty Boy. He was a wonderful little guy. He died the night a stray cat got into the house. He was literrally scared to death.
I got my first dog as an adult. His name was Shortee. He was found as a stray. Shortee was a very much loved and spoiled Daschund. I would tell him “Go look out the vinder” he would jump on to the chair by the window and watch my daughter go out to the garage , get into the car and go to work. In the morning he would do the same without being prompted. Sadly, he succomed the Daschsie ailment. His back failed and I had to put him down. Cried for a whole week. I now have Shortee the second. He is a Daschund/Beagle. Also, much loved and spoiled,
My first dog – a precious memory! I was 10 years old and had wanted a dog for such a long time. My dad came home from work with a puppy snuggled inside his coat. My dad had picked him out just for me! We named him Curly because his coat was ….. curly. He was the best dog in the world. We played together all the time. I fed him, bathed him, took him for walks – I never realized until now that my dad was guiding me into the dog person I am today. To this day whenever I come in from a rainy walk with my dog Molly I dry her off the way my dad taught me with Curly “Always dry your dog’s chest first because you don’t want him to catch cold!”
My first dog was named Tooney. I have some photos of her, but I cannot find them at the moment. I got her, when she was eight years old. She was a stray and was going to be kenneled, then eventually put down. The foster home that I was living in…at the time…the father was the local dog warden and he brought her home. I immediately claimed her as mine and she was absolutely cute! She was a Brittney/Yorkie mix. I had her until she passed away at the age of 11. I found her and thought that she was just sleeping. My roommate went to check on her and knew that she was gone. That was hard. I miss her so much, but Flash and Farrah are with her, so I am comforted in knowing that fact.
The1st dog that I’ve had that is totally mine is a mini Doxie/Chihuahua named Isis. I’ve had contact with lots of dogs in my family growing up but this one I have raised entirely myself. My husband gave her to me for V-day a year ago, & I just cant see life without her! I have 4 cats who like her, too. She’s the tiniest among them. Watching Cesar Milan has helped me raise her via his awesome TV show. I named her Isis after the Egyptian Goddess because I wanted to instill courage into her tiny body to try to offset her nervous Chihuahua blood. Boy, did it ever work! When we walk, she pulls on the leash as tho she’s a pitbull! It’s really cute coming from a dog weighing in at 8 pounds tops! She’s my little warrior. She’s a great tracker, too! Little dogs rock!!!!
My first cat was a 5 year old white calco named Stacy. She was so pretty, and everywhere she stood or lay made a pretty picture. We had her until she died at 17 years old. I still miss her to this day.
I got my first cat Booter from our local Humane Society. Booter is now deceased. My daughter and I went into the Humane Society to look and find. We spent plenty of time there looking all the cats over but as soon as we turned to (then named Booder) Booter we knew she was the one. She was a ham. Rubbing on the cage and turning herself upside down. She was older but we didn’t mind, she was meant for us. I changed her name to Booter because she had 4 white feet, not other markings on them. She was the best love we could have asked for and we miss her dearly. She was at least 20 when she left us.
My first dog was a Wire Hair Fox Terrier. At the age of six, I said I would work to earn money to buy one. I had no idea how much this dog would costs, but that summer I earned $20 which in 1957 was a lot of money. I named him Buster, after the wire hair terrier my Dad had as a kid. I loved that dog: feed him, walked him, without being urged to do so by my parents. Unfortunately, Buster had epilepsy. The vet tried to convince my folks to put him down since there were no meds at the time to help him. I helped him thru every seizure. He knew he was loved. Buster lived to be 12 yrs old. Since then, I have cared for many dogs who were unwanted and sick. Buster gave me a great foundation for compassion. He is still very much loved and missed.
My first cat was an 8 week old orange tabby that I named Baby. It was my 4th birthday and my grandmother’s friend owned the corner store. She took me to pick out a kitten. I said I wanted the little gray kitty but the woman said she was keeping that one. So, I bent down and rubbed my fingers together and called the kittens and the most beautiful little orange tabby came running to me and I was hooked. This is my most vivid memory as a child. I had baby for 8 years and one day he went out and didn’t come back and someone told me that they saw him a block away dead. After that I didn’t want pets for quite a while and tried getting a dog, but to this day I am still a cat lover with 2 cats, Ziggy (orange tabby) who will be 7 on June 20 and Mama (tiger/orange tabby) who is 3.
Hi I had a cat named Christopher. He was part Siamese and part Persian. I adopted him from the Humane Society in 1995 and he passed away in 2004. Chris lived in Philadelphia, Tennessee and California. He visited family in Philly and took a trip to Las Vegas. So you can see Chris did a little traveling in his short life. I miss him a lot, but with Sean my Domestic Short Hair, gray and white cat, the hurt is not so bad. Thank you. Carol Slemmer
There has always been cats in our family, the day I was born and brought home we had 6 in the family, and I was accepted as another stray. Yet over the years they passed away one by one and due to my father’s career we moved quite often, so getting pets was out of the question. I begged and begged and finally, when I was 10 we moved to England and he said yes.
My very own first cat, I got from a rescue shelter, and loved him from the first moment I saw him. A tuxedo cat, he was black and had the perfect white lines down his belly and paws which made it seem like he was wearing a tuxedo. Ruben was what the staff had named him and I kept it as it suited him. He was the silliest cat I had ever seen; frequently I would have to rescue him from the toilet and catch him as he fell off things. He was my closet friend and my child, and I loved him fiercely.
Now he’s getting old, I can see it in his eyes and the white peppered in his previously black coat. I’ll give him a hug and he never complains, just purrs. He’s still my child, I love him deeply, and it breaks my heart to know that age is catching up with him. I’m at university now, and he lives with my parents, so I see him when I can. I hope he lives long enough to meet my children, so they can meet this truely spectacular awesome baby of mine.
My first dog was a little, curly haired all black mutt with a three inch tail. I don’t know how we got her. She just always was there from my earliest memories. One day when I was about four I realized that all the other dogs I had ever seen had long tails. When I asked my jokester father he told me that mommy and daddy didn’t want a dog with a long tail so they had cut off her tail when she was a puppy. He said it didn’t hurt and that they had put a bandage on it. You can’t imagine how long I believed that story, or how mad my mother was when I finally told her about it when I was an adult. By the way, did I mention my dog’s name was ….. Stubby?
I always wanted a dog but was never able to have one as a child. A prerequisite to marrying my husband is that he would get me a dog. In the Navy when we married our first home was a rental apartment 2000 miles from “home” but our first weekend there included a trip to the local animal shelter.
It was hard to choose from so many needy dogs but we spotted a cut black and white medium-sized dog we later found out was a border collie and we named her Heidi. She was a great companion and so smart!
When my husband was released from active duty we drove across the U.S. with Heidi happily on the pile of our belongings in the back seat.
We settled down in an old house that was split into apartments and someone one night Heidi got out when we let her onto the front porch where we thought the door was locked. It was pouring rain and we searched for a long time before finding her soaking wet tail tucked between her legs.
She started gaining weight and we were worried about her – after a quick exam by the vet we were told she was having puppies! She must have met up with another dog while on her escape night!
She gave birth to five puppies and we kept the runt, naming her Martha.
A few years later we moved to our own house and had children and the dogs learned to put up with being chased, petted and sharing their beds at times. Sadly Martha became ill 2 weeks after I lost my mother and passed away – both of the same illness.
Two years later, at age 15, we had to make the difficult decision that Heidi had to be euthanized as she couldn’t walk and was in a lot of pain. After my husband came back from the vets we both just stood in the front hall with our arms around each other crying as our kids just stared at us.
We have had several dogs since and now all of our kids are grown – they all have dogs. They know the meaning of unconditional love because of the love shown us by our dogs over the years.
Two weeks ago we had a spontaneous family get-together where each of the families didn’t know the other was coming and each brought their dogs! We had seven dogs happily running through the house – our two, Wallace the Westie and Malcolm the Scottie, and our grandpuppies; Scotties Bonnie & Clyde, Springer Spaniel, Tyson, Java the brown lab and Polly the Sheltie/Dachshund mix.
My first dog’s name was Laddie.He was a large collie. He looked just like Lassie from the TV show. I loved him so much and after school I would go out to his huge outdoor pen and I’d spend hours with him . I was 10-12 yr old.He had a huge chicken coop style doghouse filled with lots of hay to keep him warm in the winter and lots of shade to cool him in the summer. He had a 6ft. fence surrounding his area to run in but every once in awhile he would decide to explore the world outside of his pen and climb the fence and the only place he would go was to the corner drug store a mile down the road. They would call me and say,Marian, Laddie has come to see us and then I would go to get him. He would do this about twice a year.He was never allowed in the house tho. Then one summer I went to visit my grandmother out of state and when I came back he was gone. I was devastated. My parents told me they sent him to a farm in the country because he needed more room to run but I didn’t believe them then and I still doubt their story. I think he either got loose and was hit by a car or they had him put down.I don’t think he was hit by a car because the neighborhood kids would have heard something and we were a close group of kids. I was the only one who ever paid attenion to him. Because I think he was to much trouble for my family to take care of while I was gone.They would never tell me where in the country he was either.I was gone about a week. I never could completely forgive my parents for not telling me he was going away and I could never get any kind of information out of them about the whole story. Both my parents are passed now.My parents didn’t have pets often and if they did they had to stay outside.So I sworn to myself that when I became an adult I would have pets and they would live in my house forever.And when I had kids of my own I would always be honest with them about any pets we had. I have followed thru with that promise.I have had alot of pets and they have lived good lives.Learning the hard way has given me great respect for our four legged friends.So I have some really great memories and some sad ones. Now I have 2 great rescue dogs,a pommie and a Lhasa Apso/Shih Tzu,both old dogs now living in the lap of doggie luxury.No one can ever take the place of your first pet but he taught me what my parents didn’t. Pure love and total trust.Honesty and compassion for those around you.I didn’t let him down, others did. So I do my best never to let the ones I love down,the 2 legged and the four legged kind. Lessons learned at a young age many years ago.
My first dog was little Beagle hound. He lived to be 18 years old before he passed away. He was always a good doggy and had the loudest howl anyone had ever heard.
I have two “first dog” memories. When I was a toddler, my grandfather had a border collie named Pal. I have pictures of that dog letting me ride him, and crawl all over him. He was the best dog ever for a small girl! And VERY smart, too. Grandpa taught him all kinds of tricks.
When we bough our farm in Oregon (when I was about 5) we could have pets. Besides my big white cat named Puff, we got a black Pomeranian puppy that we named Pepper. She was a wonderful family dog – when we would wrestle, she would always side with the “underdog” in the match, even if she switched sides several times! And she was a great outfielder in our baseball games. When she got tired, she just took the ball somewhere where we couldn’t get it!
My 1st dog my Dad brought home the same day he brought me home from the hospital! He purchased their 1st TV (black & white) & parakeet (named Gus) & a dog. The dog was a brown Cocker Spaniel. Named him Brownie. Hehe! Not very creative naming. Brownie would chew up my dolls when I was little, so my Dad found him a new home. The new house was in the country next to a country school. So the kids were able to play with Brownie.
I am 16 and we have ALLWAYS had a dog,the dog we had when I was born was a BEAUTIFUL Female German Shepherd Dog named Sassy,she got bad Arthritis though and we just had a Tiny back yard and not enough time,with my brother that was four years old and my little brother was just born and I was three years old so my mom had her hands full and not a lot of time to walk Sassy,so we found a family that had accerage for Sassy to run on and have a good rest of her life.
My first dog was called Penny. She was a yorkshire terrier and rescued from a car park in Northampton. The rescue centre waited 7 days and her owners didn’t collect her so we had her. She was 5 years old. She was so beautiful, calm and very well house trained. She came with us everywhere and we all loved her to bits. Sadly, penny died last May of cancer aged 15 years. RIP Penny. We miss you. x
My first cat was my black and white cat suzy cat. I went to an animal shelter and all the kittens seemed so terrified and then suzy cat walked right up to me as if to say take me. She followed me all over the nieghborhood when she was older and when she had kittens, she would chase any dog that dare walk down our street! My mom gave me the idea for her name. I had her 9 years. I have a memorial for her on Find A Grave….
My very first dog was an Airedale bitch I named “Fido.” My dad rescued her from two boys who were shooting her with a BB gun at close range. I don’t remember when or how she left, because I was so young when we got her, but the next dog was her puppy, “Saddles,” who looked like a Beagle. He had to be given away, because he chased the neighbours’ chickens.
My first *REAL* dog was a tiny white puppy that was placed in my bed on the Christmas after I turned 6. It snowed in Southern California that winter, and she acquired the name of “Snowflake.” She was an odd-looking dog, with definite terrier antecedents, all white, with pale beige freckling under the hair on her floppy little ears, and a wiry ruff, like a hyena’s mane, around her neck and down the middle of her back.
When she was about two, we got a Dalmatian puppy without a pedigree, and named her Octavia (Tavey, for short.) Snowflake mothered her, and there was nothing funnier than to see the big puppy deferring to the little “mama-dog.”
Snowflake outlived Tavey. After moving with my mother and me from Ventura County, California, to Southern Oregon, back to Sierra Madre, California, and then to Long Beach, Tavey (who was one of those dogs whom spaying had rendered lethargic) became debilitated enough to depart this earthly round at about 15 or 16. Snowflake, however, lived into her early 20s and was active and eager almost up to the end. Even when she became incontinent and found it hard to keep her footing on uncarpeted floors, we made life as easy for her as possible. When it was evident she was no longer enjoying her life, we let her cross the rainbow bridge. At that time, I was in college, but had not yet graduated.
I got my first dog when I was 5. She was a black Lab named Princess. She was the best dog anyone could ask for. She was so intelligent it was scary. She would go to the window and start barking and we would look and look and not see anything and then my sister would drive around the corner. She always knew my sister was coming before she came around the corner. We had her for 15 yrs before we had to put her down. She would not go to the bathroom in the house and she could no longer climb the stairs. It was a hard decision but we all knew it was the right one. Back then the Humane Society would come to your house and pick the dogs up. I will never forget that day. My dad and I picked her up and put her in the van. She stood there and looked at us. I was saying goodbye and I’m sorry for doing this and she licked my face and looked at me then went to the back of the van and laid down. She gave a little bark and a look that said “It’s OK. I’m ready”, then she put her head down like she was comfortable. I knew then that she was telling me it was the right thing to do. She gave us a lot of joy and happiness and I still remember her to this day and will never forget her.
I dont know what to say, except Smokey is my first cat. Hes wonderful. You can read up on his story at my page
This is neat. Thank you.
My first cat we named tigs. His mama had a small
litter on the back porch. Later the next day she was
was hauling them out of the basket, they were so
cute, but I could only get one…She took them next
door to a business type place to hide them but they all got killed by the vicious dogs on duty… cried…
Tigs name was short for tiger… Then came julio the
next baby some one had tossed out in the complex.
Anyway this is how I got started saving cats…Still do.
Thanks and God bless all of you…Gloria..
Snuzzy is adorable….reminds me of my P.D. cat.
We had two cats, Blackie and Tibbles, both black. Blackie was kind of a rough male cat. Had a broken tail, missing an eye, but still loved him. My first cat love, however, was Tibbles. I got her when she was a kitten from an old barn nearby my house. Had to chase her down but I caught her. I brought her home and begged my mom to let me keep her. My grandmother had a cat when she was young called Nibbles so I named by cat Tibbles. She was with me constantly. Followed me everywhere, slept with me, I just knew by the look in her eyes that she loved me. At night, we used to sit by the window in my bedroom and look out the window together and watch the stars. When I was 16, we moved from New York to Ohio and she went with me. When I was 18, I took a trip back to NY and during that time, she had been let out accidently (she never went outside) and my dad couldn’t find her. When he did, she had been run over or attacked by an animal (we never knew), but he picked her up and buried her in our back yard. I was really upset when I came back home because I know she was out looking for me and I never got to say goodbye. I have a cat now, 30 some years later, that adores me just as much as my Tibbles, only she’s gray, but I like to think that she’s Tibbles reincarnated, so that’s why she’s a lighter color.
In between that time, I also had a collie dog. I ended up with him after my divorce and my ex-husband called him Cash, but I wanted to change the name so I called him Cashew. He followed me everywhere. I used to watch Lassie when I was a kid and always wanted a collie, so I didn’t mind keeping him. We used to play in the snow together and he was always running around with me in the car. I admit I spoiled him terrible but he was my baby. I adored him and he adored me. He was with me for 10 years. He had some disease, the vet could not figure out what it was, but for several nights, I slept on the kitchen floor by his side to keep him company. If something happened, I wanted to be with him. He passed away the day before St. Patrick’s day in early am and I was with him. I remember laying by him, looking in his eyes and that country song came into my head – how can I help you to say goodbye – and I knew he was not going to be around much longer. It was very sad for me and I could not celebrate St. Patrick’s Day for years afterwards. I love animals but having them is so sad.
I’ve had dogs before,but the first dog that was really mine was a sweet black and tan chihuahua named Minnie. My dad gave her to me on my 12th birthday and i still have her today at 15. I have never stopped loving her and i never will. I named her Minnie because it reminded me of the word mini and she sorta looked like a cute little mouse. She always tries to talk to me and it makes me really sad, she’ll open her mouth but nothing comes out. She’s really good at figuring out ways to tell me what she wants though. Like when she wants to go out on walks she’ll stretch and when she’s hungry she licks her “lips”. She listens in on my conversations all the time, it’s so cute.
My first ever dog we bought from the local Animal Welfare for R45, that would be about $6. Her name was Tammy and she was a GSP X. I got her when I was 3 so much I cannot remember but she was a grteat dog! She was aged 2 when we got her and seperated from a litter of pups she had had when she was abandoned before she was rescued. Her coat was matted and she was very nervous. Within 2 weeks and some TLC she was barking at the gate and starting to settle down.
I have now had my fair shair of another resue pup, labradors and a siberian but never has there been another dog that I can even nearly come close to comparing to the wonderfulness of Tammy. She died in May 2006 at the grand age of 14. She brought to us so much joy and happiness and she will always be remembered as my first and foremost best dog ever!
I come from a long line of dog lovers and we always had at least one dog in the house when I was growing up. After I graduated college and got my first “real” job I decided that I wanted a dog of my own. So right before Christmas I went to the local Humane Society to check out the dogs. Over in one larger pen were two boxer mix puppies, both males, that someone had abandoned. I opened the pen, knelt down and called to them. One ran to the back of the pen, but the other walked right into my arms- and might I add, into my heart. From then on, he was MINE. I named him Montgomery.
Right from the start it was obvious (to me, anyway) that Monty was no ordinary dog. He was extraordinarily intelligent; he had a nearly human personality. He loved children; every day in the summer the neighborhood children would come knocking at my door: “Can Monty come out to play?” I could go on and on about the funny things he did.
I lost Monty when he was nearly fourteen years old. I’d grown up around many dogs but never had I seen a dog like him. Since then I’ve owned three boxers and I have to say that they are the most intelligent and lovable dogs I’ve ever known; after Monty I’ll always own a boxer!
My wonderful Cat, named Figaro. I was working at hospital and a litter was left there. I took this one fluffy adorable kitten home. He was wonderful,Never destroyed or jumped on anything he wasnt supposed to. He would sit at window and wait for my husband to come home from work. He would jump down and run down the stairs to greet him. He jumped in my lap and was so lovable. After him,i had dogs. Now i have cat named Nando after a long time. He is not like Figaro. I sometimes cry when i think of Figaro, cause having Nando has reminded me of him. Nando is not lovable and runs away when you try to pick him up and love him. This bothers me,cause i want to pet and love him. If he is half asleep he lets you pet him for a minute or two. Well as i said having this cat so reminds me of Figaro and how different they are. I wish i had Figaro back. He was a wonderful cat.
My first dog did occur until I was married and owned a home. His name was Barney. His mom was a Rotty-Terrier mix and his dad was a Golden Retriever-Coonhound mix. He was big, white and had baby blue eyes. I think he had the best traits of any dog I’ve own (on #3). He loved going on walks, wasn’t much of a fetcher or swimmer, but he was just so darn mellow. Couldn’t ask for a more mellow dog and he lived to be sixteen years old. I got him from a coworker whose dog had pups. So I saw him as a very small baby.
Tiger was my 1st kitten he was a gray tabby and he fit his name well. He was given to me by my brother and his girlfriend. We were a perfect fit, he was a wild kitten and I was a wild 8 year old. He followed me everywhere even got me into trouble a few times. With my mother allergic to cats Tiger had to stay outside and has cats like do he wandered off to neighbors houses.
One of things Tiger did best was bridge the 8 year age gap between my brother and me. He was forever bringing toys home for Tiger and showing me new ways to play with him and keep from getting scratched.
We don’t know what happened to Tiger but he lives in my heart and I have told his story to my daughter. So that he his legacy may continue on.
My first dog was named Duchess. She was a Dalmation/Pointer mix. I loved that dog. (My eyes still well up with tears and shes been gone 40 years now.) She was my girl.We did everything together. We’d take long walks in the woods and fields around our house. Occasionally she’d bring back a friend from the woods, a mouse, a rabbit, a birdor gopher and even a mole. She’d let us dress her up to play house or for Halloween. She’d stay in the baby carriages and let us push her around. She rarely left my side except when I’d go to school. I remember a time I joined girlscouts and I went camping for a weekend. When I returned, she was really upset with me, I’d never been away from her that long. She kept her back to me. She’d walk away from me. She stayed on the other side of the room. My heart broke. My girl was mad at me. She even gave me sad side eyes. The next day she forgave me and guess what, I never left her for a couple days ever again.
I still have my first dog. I always wanted a dog but the timing never worked out in my family. So when I graduated from college and moved out I got my very first dog. Her name is Roxie and she is an American Eskimo. I had done research on the breed before getting her but didn’t realize how much personality and intelligence was packed into a mid-size dog. I knew I was in for an adventure when she taught herself how to push open a set of swinging doors to enter a kitchen after watching me walk through it a few times. :-)
my 1st step-mom(carol) got me my 1st dog,
a Cairn Terrier(Skippy) from the animal shelter
(back in the early ’70’s = still a dog pound).
THAT is why Cairn’s will always be #1 in my
heart ! (after Carol divorced my (bio)father =
(he deserved it ! ) & my 2nd step-mom & her
2 kids (& their cat,Tuffy) Skippy just disappeared
1 day = I found out quite a bit later that my
father had taken & dumped him somewhere) .
my (bio) father is the kind of person that would
do something like that !
(never got Skippy back) !
I know that I ‘ll see him at the ‘ Rainbow Bridge’
again, someday = can’t wait !
animal lover in Idaho,
Lori L.
(never got him back) !
My first pet was a cat and his twin brother. My parents answered a ad offering these to a good home. Tiny Tiger (also had a couple AKA’s: Snoopy – was always snooping into everything, and Stupid – which was never the case.) and Tiger. Tiger would only go to or let only my mom pet him, Tiny Tiger loved everybody. Later in life (many years after we lost Tiger) Snoopy (and the rest of the strays we had since adopted) had Leukemia. We (mom and I) had to put them down. You can’t imagine the pain I felt bringing him to the vet to put him down. I still cry sometimes thinking about him and that day. He WAS my best friend, and even though I’ve had several strays since (at count seven) nobody has even come close to the love we shared, and I don’t think anybody ever will. I look forward to Rainbow Bridge, when after death, I will be reunited with my best friend. Till then, Snoopy, you’ll ALWAYS be my best friend!
I have had several sweet dogs during my lifetime. Our first pup when I was first married was Prince-a cocker spaniel who lived to be about 13 years old. When I brought my daughter Sue home from the hospital-he howled because he had never heard a baby before-so FUNNY!! I will always have at least one dog in my life until it’s time to go-right now I have 2-Macy & Patches and I love them dearly!!
My furbrother was already a member of the family for three years before I came along. He and I were inseparable right from the start, best friends. He was my buddy, my confidante, my brother. He went to the Rainbow Bridge at age 18, after a good life with us. We all loved him so much! and I know he’s with my folks now, waiting for me to join them one fine day.
One of our first loves was a tiny gray persian. His owner was going to put him to sleep because she was raising “show kittens” and he did not exactly fit the fill. He had hazel eyes, one extra toe on each paw. We fell in love with him. He developed diabetes at age 15 and required insulin twice a day. He would let me know it was time by coming to me and pushing his neck to my hand. He lived to the age of 20 – we had him creamated and he remains in our hearts and home.
my first doggie was a chiuaua. she was a very excited dog. she passed away when she excaped and acar passed over her head.
I was 18 years old, newly married, and had just taken my very first plane trip (13 hours!) to Okinawa, Japan, to join my Air Force husband. Being away from home for the first time, he suggested picking out a puppy. A life long dog lover, I readily agreed!
He had heard about a Japanese breeder who had Shetland Sheepdogs. We had a dog growing up that was a collie, so I thought, a smaller collie, that would be nice. We went, and despite a huge language barrier, we picked out a beautiful little girl. They said to come back, they would clean it up for us. So we left and came back. My husband was finalizing the deal, and I was holding my new little baby girl…but soon realized she was a he. They had brought us her brother by mistake. I grabbed my husband and whispered to him what was up. He and I both tried to explain we had the wrong dog, but we were met by bows and smiles. So we left there with the pedigree papers for the girl, but a very boy puppy!
My husband ran in to buy a few dog supplies to last us until we could do some real shopping, and this little guy was everywhere in the car, bouncing off the walls! A little ball of energy and curiosity, he was all over the floor when I said to him “What are you doing? You are crazy!” And it hit me–that was his name–Crazee!
He was my very first all my own dog, and he was the greatest. He barked at everything, chased airplanes, cars, and the lights from a flashlight. He was beautiful, and he will always hold a special place in my heart.
my first doggie was achiuaua she passed away when a car passed over her her head
My first dog was a black lab mix named Sabath. I was probably only 5 or 6 but I remember my parents bringing him home. I crawled into the bed of their pick-up and there was this little black puppy. (I later learned they picked him up off the side of the road) As he grew older he was very protective of our family. My mother tells me of there being a time when I road my bike down the dirt road and falling and hurting myself. The neighboors tried to come to my aid, but Sabath wouldn’t let them near me. He was never allowed inside the house, but I remember always feeling safe at night knowing he was outside.
My first pet was named Charlie. He was a Dachshund-Chiuaua mix. We were originally taking care of his mother for some friends, who was a full bred Dachshund that decided to have a courtship with the Chiuaua next door one night, and thus she had three pups. Charlie was the runt of the litter, and so my mother was always going out and cuddling him because his brother’s were rejecting him. When we sent his mother to her owner, we sent the other two pups with her, but we kept Charlie. Charlie was my mother’s dog overall, but he loved to play with us kids. He lived a good long life. We loved him like he was a member of the family, but 16 years into his life, his legs started giving out due to arthritis, and we knew it was time. When we took him to the vet, we brought his favorite blanket that he loved to burrow in, let him fall asleep on his own, and then put him to sleep. That was 18 years ago, but it still brings tears to my eyes.
Oh yes that would be my “Bandit Cat”
She was a tuxedo kitten that was supposed to be my Christmas present back when I 5. Incidentally it was a pet Christmas that year as my Dad got a german sheperd puppy named gunner.
Anyways as cats do she picked my Dad to be her person. It didn’t bother me too much as she played with me lots. She was an indoor/outdoor girl. She even moved cross country with us from North Carolina to California. We had a big old ford pickup with a camper on it. She, the dogs and I had the back part to ourselves. She used her cat box like a pro on the trip and “helped” Dad drive by supervising from the front seat.
She shared our lives until the ripe old age of 15. I miss her still. She taught me alot about being adaptable to change and napping when ever you can!
My first dog was named Dizzy after the popular Tommy Roe song back in the 70’s or was it 60’s? Anyway, he just showed up on our porch one day.
He looked like a cockapoo and I loved him to death. When he was bad, I made him sit in a corner. We had a van back then and he loved to stick his head out the window and let the wind blow in her face.
I have two firsts…the first dog I loved (that wasn’t really mine) was an Irish Setter named Bruno. He belonged to my uncle who drove a truck so after a while we ended up keeping Bruno for him. He was the best friend a shy 6 year old girl and her bratty sisters could have. He let us do anything we wanted to him…braid his fur, ride him around the back yard…he was so patient with us, so gentle. Unfortunately, a neighbor from down the street had chickens that kept getting killed by other dogs in the neighborhood. Somehow, Bruno got the blame even though he’d never even gotten out of our yard and never bothered the chickens who lived right next door to us – he just ignored them completely.
One night, someone tossed some meat over our fence that was laced with either poison or broken glass and Bruno ate it. He was in so much pain that a getting a vet in time wasn’t possible, so our neighbor did the only other thing he could and “put him out of his misery” quickly. My mom came in and woke me up to tell me that Bruno was gone. I’d never cried so hard in my life – completely heartbroken. And the chickens kept getting killed, so it was all for nothing.
My first actual dog was Ginger, a chihuahua/poodle mix my parents got me for my 10th birthday. I loved that dog more than anything in the world. Unfortunately, she hated my sisters and became quite vicious toward one of them. My parents decided she couldn’t stay and ended up giving her to relatives who made her an outside dog and later passed her on to someone else when they decided to have a baby.
I did get to spend one last weekend with Ginger – they had me dog-sit just before they gave her away. She’d been allowed to become infested with fleas and ticks. I spent hours bathing her and removing them all, crying the whole time. She just kept licking me and loving on me, as if thanking me for all I was doing for her. I still miss that dog.
My first DOG was and still is a Chocolate Labrador Retriever named StarBuck.I went through many pets before I finnaly got the dog of my dreams,a chemeleon,2 rabbits,hamster and a frog,we eventually got rid of them all.StarBuck was from a breeder but that is not how we got him.We were petsitting StarBuck for his former owners,who had gotten him from a breeder in East Texas,he was the Clearance Puppy.Anyway like I said we were petsitting him and when his former owners came back they put him in there vehicle.I was quite said to see hime go,but as much as I wanted him to be mine I knew he was not.About a day later here came StarBuck running up our driveway,his former owners called uus and we told them he was here,they knew he loved us and said that we could keep him!!! through out the months that followed we hit a few bumps in the road and found out StarBuck had Separation Anxiety,and when we would leave him alone he ate a choc.chip cake,jumped on the counter where we saw spilled coffee!!! But we also found out that he LOVES our cats,he cuddles with our big,fat orange one.All and All he is my BEST FRIEND!!!!
My first pet was Summer. She was a cockatiel. I got her when I was like 3-4yrs old in Sioux Falls, SD. I was living there with my mom until late early September 1995. Unfortunately, Summer died in about a week before her birthday in December 2003, I believe. I’ve also had a few goldfish and a chinese fighting fish while having and after Summer. Small fish are easy to take care of, easy to replace (for children’s sake), and cheap. That’s why we got them.
Now I have a precious kitten, well cat but she’ll always be my kitten, named Midnight. She’s a beautiful Bombay (jet black cat, gold and green eyes) and will be 4yrs old 10/2/09. I got her when she was two months old as a gift from a friend of my moms. I have PKD and had to get a kidney transplant. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. Considering it was a 5-7yr minimum wait period, I got my transplant a year and a half after being put on the list. It was my fourth stand-by call. Anyways, back to the kitten.. So as having the transplant being my “second lease on life”, I also received a new life to take care of.
I miss Summer and will always remember her. As for Middie, she’ll always be my baby and my husband and I treat her like a daughter. Yes, we spoil her. And so does my mother. :)
**ALWAYS LOVE & CARE FOR ANIMALS! TREAT THEM WELL KNOWING THEY HAVE FEELINGS TOO!**
His name was Tuffy, my dad brought him home to our family when my sister and I were tenny tiny. I think I was only 10months old. Tuffy was a Siberian Huskey/German Shepard/Wolf mix he was well over 100+ lbs. He was massive,gorgeous, and extremely loyal. He passed away when I was a senior in Highschool he was almost 18years old. He was such an awesome boy , awesome enough to make a dog lover for life!!! xoxoxo miss you Tuff!!
We had a family cat growing up, but when I was 3 she ran away to the neighbors house and when I tried to pet her she scratched me so we let them have her. Then at 5, my older sister was getting a dog for her birthday and I wanted one too because i didn’t want to share with her (my birthday was one month later so my parents gave in). My mom had a friend who bred yorkies and she just had a litter so we went to go pick out our dogs. My sister picked hers out and I looked and looked until I found just the right one for me. He stood out from the others, I don’t know why but I just knew he was for me. I named him Benji. My mom’s friend was telling her they were all real good, but there was one who would make a weird “er er er” sound and my mom said she hoped we didn’t get that one. Sure enough that was my Benji. But we would love whenever he did it. Benji and I grew up together, but unfortunately at 15 (his age) we had to put him down because he was having seizures daily. I will never forget Benji.
I was always a cat person. Even though I have had 8 dogs in my past, I never considered them mine. They belonged to my family, my husband, my children . . . We now have a Boston Terrier. He is 7 years old. My husband wanted one and sent me to pick him out–thinking that would make me accept him better.
I count “Boxley” as “my” first dog! He is so sweet and a lot of fun. He loves to play and run and run. I never had a dog that would actually interact with me. He may be dog #9, but in my eyes he is my first doggie love. My husband has to remind me that Boxley is his and not mine! (Ha)
“Boy-Dog”
To be truthful I was Boy-Dog’s first girl.He lived with my family when i was born.I had two older brothers that thought he belonged to them!He was just a pup in 1946 when I was born.He was a Border Collie.I guess they trouble picking a name so “Boy-Dog” he was for all his life.The stories I could tell about his exploits…some funny… and alot of trouble he got into over the years.He was the most faithful guy.There was a total of seven children in our family when all was said and done.He loved us all.The one thing I remember most about him was how did bed check every night.He went from room to room to make sure we were all there.If someone was missing he would sleep by the front door until we were all accounted for.When my oldest brother joined the Marines he slept by the door for the entire time he was gone.My Mother died when I was thirteen and Boy-Dog slept by the door for the rest of his life!He died at the age of 17 years.I’m sure he’s sleeping at the door in Heaven waiting for all of us to show up so he can rest knowing his herd is back in the fold!
Sparky is our first cat. She is a beautiful calico and was 2 months old when our daughter rescued her from some public works workers that were paving our street and tossing the kitten in a ditch of water and up in trees. Our daughter was crying for the kitten and managed to catch the men not looking and brought the kitten into our house. Needless to say she has been with us ever since. She is now 9 years old and loves our dog, Lucky. They often sleep together.
As a child, I was not allowed to have a dog, so at 23, I got my first dog, a golden retriever puppy. On the drive home, she threw up on my lap. My motherly reaction to that made me realize I really was ready to have a dog. She was my companion & security blanket for nearly 15 years. When she had to be “put to sleep,” it was clear that no human had ever been as close to me as she had been, and the grief was intense. But eventually, I honored the joy of dog ownership by adopting older dogs. (I’m on my third dog now) Now that I’m older too, I’m going the senior rescue route. I LOVE DOGS! And all others animals, too.
Thor was in the Orange County, CA PennySaver we get in the mail every week for free. He was advertised as a Cane Corso/ Blue Pitbull mix. He was the only one in the liter who turned out to have a merle gene which made him look very different than the other puppies. When we got to the pickup location I beelined it straight for Thor, never once looking a great deal at the other puppies. I thought Thor to be very unique and only wanted him. We picked him up and drove him home, me holding him in the passenger seat. We had made a toilet break for the little guy and he became carsick in the parking lot. He still gets carsick. Thor was a pleasure to have as a puppy. He had his share of issues, but because he was our first dog ever together we dedicated a tremendous amount of time and patience to make him understand. I can proudly say he is a great camera dog, always posing for you and giving you his best shot. I love it! He is about 3 now and healthy.
I’d always had dogs growing up, but Precious was the first dog I had living on my own. She was a four year old Rottweiler, a shelter baby. She’d been horribly abused in her past, and never had a stable home until she came to live with me.
From day one we had a close bond; she loved curling up on the couch with me while I was reading. She loved going for long walks and meeting new people. It’s unfortunate her breed has a bad reputation, she was the sweetest dog; for her size she made a pretty good lapdog.
Unfortunately, we only had three years together before she got sick; I had to put her down this past October. I have another dog now, but there will always be a part of my heart that belongs to my Precious Rottie.
My first kitty cat was a kitten from my aunt and uncle’s cat, Buttons. I was eight years old when we took Tiger home. Tiger looked almost identical to his mother except he had the cutest little white boots and mittens and a bit of white around his mouth and little pink nose. Mother and son were your classic tabby cats. My mother thought she would give the neighbor hood cats a rest (I was always rounding them up to play with them and bringing them home, heh heh..) so she let the family have our own cat. He charmed us though out his long life – he lived to be 22 or 23 years old. I am 52 now and I still remember him chasing me around the house in the summer when I wore my rubber flip-flops… I have the pleasure of sharing my life with a few other felines including my two now, but Tiger will always have a special place in my heart. I can still smell his fur when I would kiss him and listen to him purr away…
My very first dog came from my grandma’…Bambie… as a present for my 5th birthday.. i loved her soooo much.. we adored each other.. she always listened to me, and played with me, and she always knew when i was in a bad mood or if i had a problem.. she always knew how to cheer me up.. but sadly on june 8, 4 days after my 15th birthday she left me… and now we currently have 7 dogs.. w/c are her puppies…and.. 3 ahmsters.. but no matter how many dogs we get.. none of them will ever be able to replace Bambie in my heart..
my first dog i had wasent really my dog, it was my big sisters.His name is buggy hes a rat terrier. my sister got him 1 year before i was born, and he stopped likeing my sister and he became my showdow. my sister did name him bugsbee but i said buggy and that name stuck. if i went outside, he went outside. all the pictures my mom had of me had him in it. he still is my showdow.
Our first cat is still with us. We adopted Ashley in the summer of 1990 after discovering him in the backyard following a thunderstorm. He has been a reliable friend and companion for his 3 sweethearts, Anna (RIP), Ladyhawke and Felicia. He’s starting to show his age now and does not get around quite as well as he once was able to. But he’s still our sweet baby and will always be a big part of our lives.
I have always loved cats but my mom wouldn’t let me one b/c she didn’t like the hair. I got my 1st 2 cats from a pet store after a horrid day a work. I had picked out the black cat 1st but his brother, an orange tabby, was so cute I had to take him to. After a few days the black cat became Shadow or my little Shadow. He followed me everywhere and even slept next to my head at night. They were 5 months old when I got them and after they were a year Shadow started sleeping under the covers sunggled up to me. They are now 4 years old and Shadow still follows me everywhere, plays fetch, comes when called and knows his name. He’s always in my lap or laying next to me and is actually laying against me right now watching me write this. He is the best cat in the world!
My first (and only) dog was Trixie. She was actually my parents’ dog, and was the first baby of the family. When I came along, she adopted the new “people puppy” as her own, guarding me and telling my parents when she thought I needed anything. Part of this came easily for her, because she was an Australian shepherd/golden retriever mix, but the rest of her behavior towards me was definitely mothering. There’s a picture on her page of us at Mt. Hood. I consider her my older sister, even now. She died at 13 years of age. I was 8 at the time, and devastated. Her spirit lives on in my love of all animals.
My first cat was/is Skylar. He adopted me five years ago, before I even knew I’d gotten over my allergies to “furries”. He would garden with me every day I was out in our community garden, and ate tomatoes out of my hand. He and his littermate sister Lydia were the cats of my neighbors down the street, and I babysat their human kid a couple days a week. Lydia was very skittish in those days, but Skylar was so outgoing. He would greet everyone in the neighborhood, but loved to spend time with me when I was out. When the neighbors had to move to Florida to take care of the wife’s mother, they couldn’t take the cats because of the wishes of the mother. So, they asked me if I would adopt Skylar and Lydia, because Skylar had taken to me so much. Of course, I said yes! Lydia didn’t take too well to the move at first, especially since it was a double move (I moved in with my now-husband shortly after I adopted them), but after her adjustment she was the sweetest snuggle buddy ever. Skylar is now 9, deals with major health issues, but still sleeps curled up with me at night and spends his days sitting or laying on my husband’s lap. Gone are the days of running around the house using his Siamese yowl, or hopping up on the counter to demand cheese, but he’s still our crazy buddy and we love him dearly. Even in his old age, he still loves chin scritches and being tipped over like a baby, as well as being held on our shoulders and riding around like that. There is a picture on his Catster page of our friend Erin with him riding like that on her shoulder. When Erin lived with us for a year, Skylar immediately adopted her as well. He’s just a lovebug. Each and every moment we have left with him is a treasure.
My first cat was a Tabby named Bandit. My mother found her in a pet store who was giving her away for free. She called Daddy and asked if she could get her. I was very young when we got her but I always felt she was mine. She use to sit under my chair at the kitchen table. We’ll there is a lot I can’t remember about her, I will always remember how she made me feel.
http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/daisymaest/Other/Bandit1.jpg
My first purebreed dog is a schnauzer, that’s why he’s my favorite. He was given to me as my lawyer’s fee. I named him skowy (arranged reverse name of ewoks which was my favorite tv series before). Skowy is so adorable, sweet and fun to be with. He’s used to accompanying us in strolling or malling when he was still a puppy that’s why he gets sad these days because we can no longer bring him to the the mall because he’s grown up already. Skowy is so handsome a dog. His puppies could have been for show but unfortunately he doesn’t have balls, don’t know why. The previous owner said maybe it’s because we fed him too much at “natabaan nya ang mga balls nya”. does that make a sense? Nwie, just want to share. I also have a german shepherd, chow-spitz and a dachshund. and they’re all lovable. Glad, I have them.
My first pet I had was named Samson. He was such a good boy, he was a bullmastiff, in my opinion, bullmastiffs are the best dogs you can get! He was loyal, loving, and always helpful. He was very powerful so he could help around the farm by pulling wagons of feed and hay. I obedience trained him so he could go almost anywhere with me! He was very VERY intelligent.
He was calm, unlike jumpy and yippy dogs like yorkies and labs. He retired at about eight years old, because he was diagnosed with arthritis by our vet. He lived to 11 years old. Last year, we put him to sleep. I was greiving badly. I wouldn’t eat for almost an entire week, I was doing horrible in school, though I was always the brains of the class. I would break out crying in resturaunts, school, or even in the middle of the night. We love and miss you, Samson! Meet me at Rainbow Bridge!
My first dog was a beautiful Chow mix that I named Misty. I bought her at a local pet store for one dollar. The people in the store told me they were selling her for one dollar so that the sale would be legal and binding and that I could not return her. She lived with my family unitl she crossed the rainbow bridge of old age. Misty was my protector, companion and friend and to this day I think that was the best dollar I ever spent.
The first animal to steal my heart away was my first dog, Brandy. Brandy was an English Pointer on a mission, always hot on the trail of the latest tennis ball or flying object. She wasn’t very loyal when it came to sticking by my side (she just needed to run and run) but she was certainly a sweet girl whose happy tail could leave whip marks. My fondest memories involve the two of us walking in a pet parade in Los Altos in the early 1990s.
I was a very fortunate child. I grew up on a farm in Ohio and we had tons of animals. The cats were mostly ‘barn cats’ but were all friendly to me. My funniest memories of the cats was I had a tom cat (didn’t spay and neuter pets back then) and creatively, his name was Tom.
He was huge. His head was as big as my Dad’s fist. Tom would follow me all around the farm no matter where I went or what I was doing he was never far away.
He was very smart and quickly learned how to open the screen door to our enclosed porch. He liked to curl up on the furniture.
Since Tom was a semi feral cat no one could touch him but me. He would growl and swat and his feet were very large. Anytime he would get into the porch my Dad would call me to come and remove him. This is funny cause Dad’s aren’t supposed to be afraid of anything! (Right?)
I have been blessed with cats,dogs and other animals
for most of my life. They have had a very healing influence over me,which I have greatly needed! I have had so-o many wonderful pets that it would be impossible to name just one!
I will share a few memories, Chipper was MY cat! This brown tomcat loved me better than anyone in the world,and he let me know it! He followed me everywhere I went,or wanted to! Chipper loved cooked broccoli,corn,carrots,he liked veggies,and of course tuna! But I always remember him eating broccoli,and closing his eyes like it was the best thing he ever ate,and he was savoring every bite! He knew how to open the cabinets with his paw and go in and explore.One time when I was at work,he drug a big bag of cat food out and tore it open with his teeth,and fed his pals,Minky & Smoky. Chipper always knew when I wasn’t feeling good and would come in and lay down or sit with me.He had a way of putting his paw on my hand and cupping his paw to squeeze my hand,as to say to me “It’s going to be alright!”Chipper was like a little person,he had so much purr-sonality!! There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss him. Minky and Smoky were his pals. Chipper got hit by a car and killed.I found him and buried him beside the house.Some neighbor put antifreeze out for Minky and he found it,I took him to the vet but he died anyway. I still have Smoky. Chipper was nine and Minky was ten when they died! I miss Minky’s soft purr and his super soft furr. Minky had a incredible body warmth when he would jump up on the bed at night and sleep with me! Chipper and Minky were best buddies,until Minky died,then Chipper bonded somewhat with Smoky.When Chipper died,Smoky was so lonely for a long time,and he is still terriffied of the road.Sometimes I will catch looking over in the direction where Chipper got killed and I have no doupt that he remembers when it happened because I believe Smoky saw it all,and it has affected him so much!
We had a dog named Goofy, when my son Robbie was growing up. Goofy was a lab mix and was so lovable and full of life. He loved Robbie and Robbie would go down in the back yard and climb in Goofy’s dog house and sleep with him!! And Goofy sometimes would drag Robbie around by his shirt or pants, like his favorite play toy, with Robbie yelling to be let go!!
We have a sweet little stray kitten that has adopted us after being born under our hous. We have named her Cleo.she is a brown tabby mix with white paws and some white on her chest,she is still a little wild yet.
We also have Chloe,our British blue shorthair,with an attitude of her own,and the mother of Misty and Dorthy which we now have.
I have to mention Marilyn(Chipper’s mama),Squeeker(Chipper’s dad)Kurt,Amber,Heather,Carmen,Mama-cat,My son Robbie’s cats Shawty & Chiky-fuzz
I have also had the experience of knowing some mighty fine strays. The two that come to my mind are Loggerhead, Butterscotch & Princess Elaine. Who visited me often at their convenience. And we always has nice visits.
My first cat, was a stray that followed me home every afternoon when I go off the bus, He would run down the street under the parked cars and then sit at my door. I asked around the neighborhood and found he was left behind when so one moved so that very night when we walked from the bus stop he come in the house with me. I named him Goldie, and he spent a loving 12 years with me and when I had to put him down to cancer I vowed no more pets. Forget that I now have another wonderful loving cat named Mr. Mustard aka Musty.
For me, it was three cats, mama, papa, and baby.
They were my Aunt’s cats until my momn and I moved in, then they became our cats. There was mama, her name was Mischief (a name lived well up to), she was a tortoiseshell, then papa, Socksy, a black and white tuxedo tabbie, then there’s baby, his name was Morris, an orange and white tabby that looked just like Morris on T.V.
(yes, he lived up to his name too!). Now my Aunt and I have an orange and white Maine Coon named Katie Coo Morrisa. She is her grandma Mischief, grandpa Socksy, and uncle Morris all rolled into one little package of dynamite of energy.
My first dog was a “Fresno Shepherd” He was mostly Shepherd and he was black & white, and he was born in Fresno.
He really was a nice looking mix and he was like “Nana” in Peter Pan. So loving and totally unflappable, friendly. However, if he ever thought that someone was trying to harm us, he would have killed the person or at least tried to.
I was too young to remember how Waggles came to live with us in the rowhouse on Pennsylavania Avenue in Washington, DC. (the other end of PA. Ave from the White House), but I remember not having playmates other than the black mixed breed with a white bib and paws. I was about 2 1/2 when I really became aware of her, curling up on the floor beside her with my picture books. One day, I decided I wanted to be a dog. So I crawled everywhere, put my plate on the floor for lunch and ate with no hands, crunched a Milkbone, and barked. Incessantly. Waggles loved it; Mom did not. By the time Dad got home, she was frazzled to the max. It was the barking that did it. Dad looked sternly at me and said, “If you bark once more, I’ll spank you.” I barked. He spanked. Sometime after that, Waggles had puppies–eight of them–under my bed.
On my desk in my office at the university where I teach writing, there is a 61-year-old, black and white photograph of a little girl holding a puppy under its front legs with its belly to the camera. Students love it. Sometimes when I’m in my office late at night, surrounded by books and papers, I wonder at the simplicity of childhood and where the years went. And once in a while, when I need to connect with that creative child in the photograph, and there’s no one else in the whole 5-story building but my Pomeranian, Foxie, and me, I bark. Really. Foxie’s used to it and often offers up his own contribution. But my coffee cup stays on the desk and Foxie is the only Raider of the Milkbone Box, while the little girl in the photo holds a warm puppy and sometimes thinks that what she wants to be when she grows up is a dog. We could hope for worse.
My first 2 Cats came fromthe people next door when they moved to Hemel Hempstead (then a new town) and decided that they did not want to bother taking the cats with them. Luckily for them, they were already coming into our house, so we adopted them. Monty was a square-headed Black & White tom-cat who used to disappear for 2 or 3 weeks at a time and come home, starving hungry. The other one was Sooty. Nothing unusual about him. He would shake paws with you every morning. Since then, I have had Kim, Peter, Jennie-Fur (almost 23 years when I had to part with her), Benjamin (convinced he thought he was a Dog as he used to go for a walk with a Collie (which is how I got to know him), Bobby, Pixie, Ginty, Tawny (still with me at 14 years) & Pickle (not quite a year old). Everyone of them has been completely SPOILED! I wouldn’t part with them for anything!
My grandma gave me my first dog when I was about 6 years old. She was a Chihuahua named Snippy. I had her for 14 years.
When I was a kid, we always had dogs. I remember most of them well, but my first cat was Patches. My husband and I had visited a friend one evening, and her cat had had a litter of kittens about five weeks before. One of these kittens wound up going home in my pocket. That was Patches.
Patches grew very large–at one point he was almost as large as a small mountain lion. He also protected the family from harm. I think he was the original “attack cat” mentioned on the bumper sticker, “Beware of Attack Cat.” People carry scars from him because they would not listen when we warned them not to fool around or he would think they were hurting us and attack.
One time, when my daughter and I were living with a friend in the mountains, my daughter was outside playing with a local dog, my daughter saw Patches at the sliding glass door with an enormous tail. She tried to get in without letting him out, but he go through her legs and chased the dog away. That poor dog was never able to come near the house again.
Patches lived to be 17 years old, and I loved him every minute of it. It devastated me when I had to have him put to sleep, but he was suffering and starving to death because he could no longer eat, although he was hungry. I miss him very much.
Hello, I am the youngest child of 4 by 13 years with the next oldest being 15 years older & the next 17 years older. My 2 brothers are the older 2 and they were married when I was fairly young and my sister was not married til I was 12 and she was more like a secon Mom. We always had pets when I was growing up, (both cats & dogs), but the dogs were always family pets. I can remember always wanting my own puppy to take care of and also wanting a small dog. My sister & her hubby after being married moved upstairs from us and bought 2 Miniature Schnauzers. I would always play with htem, and walk them, but they were theirs. They dies when they were 13 & 14, both a day apart. 2 years later my sister bought her first Yorkie. Woofie was his name. He always loved to be at my house. I was married then & we lived in the house next door. Woofie actually slept at our house and my sister bought a male Yorkie and 3 years later a female. So Woofie became our adopted “son’. I had total control of him and loved him like my own, yet m y sister still called him hers and still wanted to make decisions. Finally in January of 2005, she said she had a surprise for me. She wanted to purchase a female Yorkie so we could have a litter of puppies. She announced that this one would be totally mine and my name is on the AKC papers. I still kept Woofie and I loved them both the same, but Kaos, (her name), was all mine and I made all decisions, and Kaos is so attached to me and will nnot stay with anyone else. From the very first night we got Kaos, she slept in our bed with my hand around her and she slept the entire night without barely moving and that has been where she always has slept. She is 4 now and we have a very strong bond. She is a watchdog for me and nobody that is a stranger can get near the house or in the house. She follows me everywhere. Also, I am disabled from Lupus and if I drop something on the floor, Kaos has learned to pick it up. So even though I did not get Kaos until 4 years ago, I feel that this story qualifies for this.
Thank you,
When I got my first dog, Jenny, a cardigan welsh corgi, I was living in Indiana at the time. I had to fly down to pick her up from her breeder in Florida. I fell in love with her at first sight, but I quickly realized what a handful she was going to be! At the hotel before the flight, I put Jenny in her airplane carrying bag. Within 5 minutes, she decided she didn’t like being confined, and managed to pop her head through the bag! The whole time while driving to the airport, and waiting to get on our plane, I kept wrestling with her to keep her in the bag! Finally, we got on the plane, and I had to sit there crouched down to keep my hand on the side of the bag to keep her inside. In my mind, I was sure she was going to get out and go running through the plane! Luckily she didn’t, and once we landed, she came out of the bag and I brought her home. Since then, she has been a mischievous girl, but I wouldn’t change that for anything!
I am honored to share the story of my baby Bear. I didn’t get my first dog until I was 18. I fell in love with him the moment I saw him at the Animal Care and Control in SF,CA. I had to convince my mom that THIS Chow was different than the ones she met before. She too fell in love with him. He was 1 1/2 years old, completely matted from head to toe. His ears were soft and pointy and stood out from his mangy fur.
I just KNEW this dog was for me. He taught me so much- more like he trained me well! Bear was a constant in my life- a shoulder to cry on when I needed it, an excuse for excercise when I was stressed, and a protector. I was blessed to have Bear for almost 15 years until a little over two weeks ago when I had to say good-bye to him. I have other dogs in my life, but Bear will ALWAYS be top dog in my heart.
There is no purer form of love than that of a dog.
My very first dog was given to me by my Grandma, she had adopted a Silky Terrier named Aluna who was I think two. When I went over I spent so much time with her that we bonded so well and I was suprised when she let me have Aluna and take her home. I was only a little girl at the time and that was the best present I ever recieved.
Our first dog was Bobby, a 6-year old chihuahua. Bobby was born in Minneapolis and shipped when he was mere weeks old to a breeder in the New England area. A man bought Bobby for his wife, but sadly when he took him home, the wife didn’t want the puppy and told her husband to ‘get rid of it’. The man took Bobby to a Connecticut animal shelter and asked them to put Bobby down. Of course they didn’t. My sister’s mother-in-law happened to volunteer there and took little Bobby home. Now my sister’s Mother-in-law was quite old at the time and passed away a few years later. This left her husband with three dogs to look after and he was getting on himself. When my sister heard we were looking for a dog (we live in Toronto, Canada, she lives in Connecticut) she told us about Bobby…it was love at first photo and my sister and brother-in-law drove Bobby the 10 hours to his new home. We had a wonderful 7 years with the Bobster until he passed away from congestive heart failure at the age of 13 years.
Wow… I had a rabbit for a while as a kid (killed, neighbor dog) but I’d have to rate Ariel as my “first” pet.
I adopted her when her name was Oreo, so typical for a tuxedo cat. But… she was sick… typical for a humane society (though eons better care in NY than UT). I went straight from work to visit Muffin. As a grad student living in an apartment community that allowed only one kitty (extra fees, of course), I went to visit. TO VISIT. I did not yet decide if I could take on the extra feline fees– a big decision for someone living from paycheck to paycheck… yet missing a kitty left behind.
When I got to the shelter, I saw not many kitties. I didn’t see Muffin. Still, while there, I could certainly visit with the other kitties. One unit held 2 tuxedos. One kept looking at me, the entire time I was there. Not my thing… black kitty– yuck. Still, Muffin wasn’t there… so I asked to visit with the 2 tuxedos (Tommy and Oreo). Perhaps I could make them feel loved though I couldn’t take one home.
Tommy first– more interested in the toys.
Oreo next– so loving and crawling in my scarf (NY state in Jan), not jumping down. She picked me… . Absolutely. I did not go thinking I would bring back a kitty, surely not a black (and white/tuxedo) one.
I adopted Oreo that evening. She had an upper respiratory infection that needed some care, and was re-named “Ariel” since it sounded like Oreo and would (perhaps) make her feel comfy in her new home.
I could go on. I won’t.
Ariel and I moved from Albany, NY to West Valley City, Utah in February of 2008.
She is well… and a chum sibling to her new sister, Hershey, adopted this past January, ‘09.
To finish my “first pet” story…
Ariel is a lifeline for me. I may have helped her when she was sick, but she nurtures me everyday.
my first pet was delilah and she came to us as a stray in our backyard and we decided to keep her she was the BEST dog i have ever had.she was one of those miracle dog so when you cry she makes you feel better,when you get hurt she helps you and when you are in trouble she was always there for you.and i loved that dog but one day it was her day where she went over the rainbow bridge and only at 6 years old she dissapeared but she is now over the rainbow bridge.and i love that dog to death but she ran away on April 24th. 2008 and on her birthday this year which was on april 24th i did a memorial for her.she has been gone for 1 year already and i dont want to forget her or or lose anything of her’s.she had a sweater that was green/white and had pawprints on it that sweater reminds me so much of her because everytime i see that sweater i can see her face and her in that sweater.i will never ever ever forget about delilah. she even has a poem:when a dog dies it is not lost or forgotten,when you run away you are lost but not forgotten,when you die you are lost but never forgotten but all our love has been given to you and you will never be forgotten or lost,but we will never forget you or replace you but even though we have another dog he will NEVER be you replacement.but dogs come and go but will never we replaced. Delilah Rest In Peace.2003-2008.and a few songs that remind me of her is you found me by the fray. how to save a life by the fray. whatever my love by mickey drummond. look after you by the fray.
Okay,well my first pet ever was a golden reitriever and german shepard mix.She looked nothing like a german shepard but she was.I was not even born yet when my parents adopted her.Her name was Penny.She let me do whatever I wanted with her.Once,I even put a whole bunch of hairclips in her fur!She didn’t look to happy,but she let me do it anyway.But here is the sad part,she died at the age of6 and I was only 4!She had cancer and she was peeing out blood.So one day my parents had to bring her to the vets to put her to sleep.And I was told (as being a 4 year old girl)That she was going to a better place for a trip!I couldn’t believe it when I found out!And I was forced to stay at home with my Grandma!I am so sad.I didn’t even get to say good bye!:(But at least shes in Heaven watching over me and i’ll get to see her when I die.I’m glad she not in pain anymore.I LOVE YOU PENNY!
My first Pup, was from our neighbors… I was then 5 years old when i got him.. at first, I heard that our neighbo’s pet dog gave birth to 6 cute little Pup! Then i told my parents about it, they agreed that if i will keep him from bad dog attitudes.. well, they’ll keep one pup. Then i was so excited! since i was a kid.. I really loved animals.. specially dogs.. then the day i was about to choose my pup, one of the pup got my attention. so i chose that puppy with plain white fur, but later then had orange spots when he grew up. i named him “Pochi”. it came from a candy branch that i always buy on mini stores :). untill the day that we have to go away to another house apartment, and dogs aren’t allowed to be taken care of. so we LEFT him. that was one of my worst days ever!!! but when i turned 9, i can still see him everytime i vist my aunt. now that i’m turning 12, i don’t know if he’s still out there… hope that he’s happy and hope that i’ll still see him around someday.. well, till we meet again..
My first dog was a shelter dog(best kind) his name was Sparky, shep X. During my childhood yrs. I lived a pretty lonely life. I lived in the country growing up so I used to take him for long walks and used to express my feelings to him. I swear he knew what I was saying, call me crazy. Bottom line he was my best friend. Years after I moved out I found out he had passed away, my heart was broken in half. I still miss him after 10 yrs. I loved him and still do.
Peter Pan, a pure white American short hair had beautiful blue eyes. It would be true that he adopted me. One afternoon he came to my patio door. It was obvious that he had beenn in a fight and had lost. There were deep gashs on both sides of his shoulders. Right away I took him to the vet. His wounds were stitched up. And becaue I knew he wasn’t a fighter, I had him neutered. The vet warned me Peter might might not regrow the hair on his flanks, but he did. It’s often that white cats with blue eyes often cannot hear; but again Peter didn’t lose his hearing. It seemed he was lucky. Peter was left with a small hole in his right ear and I put a gold hoop in it giving him an Egyptian look.
He had many endearing habitsl; he loved to sleep in paper shopping bags, every time I sat and opened a book he would jump in the middle of my book demanding to nap on my lap. He had the trick of snapping the cabinet door where his food was stored ,being a pest until I got up and got a can for his meal. One Christmas he got attention by pulling down all the Christmas cards I had taped to the wall. His favorite breakfast was the children’s cereal milk left in their bowls. I have a pictur of Peter raiding the pot of spegetti left on the picnit cloth we’d laid on the yard. Peter lived 18 years and knew a happy life. I’m glad I took picturs. I’ll never forget him.
My first dog was a coon hound. A Plott/Mountain Curr female named Bridgett.I got her when I was 16. I had a heck of a time getting my parents to agree to her. I had to run away from home for two daysand stayed with my boyfriend until my dad came and hauled me home. Then my boyfriend came over and we all had a family discussion that lasted for hours and finally they said I could have her. (This also solidified my boyfriends position in the family because he acted as mediator and my parents were impressed) When I was 18 my boyfriend and I moved to Wyoming and Brigett went with us. Sadly she died a couple of years later after having a litter of pups. My boyfriend became my husband and still is 27 years later. We now have 6 dogs and own a boarding and training kennel in Indiana. I didn’t know it at the time but both he and my dogs would become life long loves. I couldn’t have done any of this without him!
My first dog was named Snoopy. He was a Heinz 57 and was rescued from the street by my mom. He was named after the Peanuts character because as a child I loved Snoopy. I believe that there is significant value in a good first dog…..Snoopy and my mom were the base for my love of animals.
My most treasured memory is the day I found these two little brown bears (siamese chocolate pointe) in the humane society. This is a day I wish could go on for all the days of my life as they are now 13. I am talking about Simeon and Slicky Moran. they are the sweetest most child like kitties I have ever seen and that has never changed. I adore them. They are the most well behaved and loving kitties anyone could ask for and I cannot imagine life without them! Here’s to Simeon and Slicky Moran the best of the best! by the way, Simeon recently survived a non malignant brain tumor only to come back to me through all my tears and fears!
Rosa
i would love to share the story of how i got my very first dog it was bought for my 1st holy communion after much persusion my dad gave in and drove me many miles to collect my gorgeous west highland terrier i picked him out of the litter because of his cheeky ways while his brother and sisters where happily sleeping he was out bouncing around our feet.i called my baby “buttons” because of his button sized nose and his creamy coat like the white choclate buttons
I would love to share my story of how i got my first cat. My family and I always had pets while I was growing up. I remember first dog i got when I was 8 year old she was cocker spainel/ poodle mix which was giving to me by a co-worker of my mother. It wasn’t until Suzie died. That I decide I would love to get my own cat. My family had many cats while I was growing up but I never had one to call my own. So few weeks after Suzie death. I went to our local pet feed to buy some food for the family’s dogs. It was there I notice some kittens for sale. I was looking at a tortishell kitten. I was trying to get it attenion, and a white ball of fluff with a tiny bit of Grey markings kitten come over and said meow. My father and my mother came over to see what I was looking at. My father fought with my mother about who was paying for the kitten. My father wanted buy it for me and my mother told him no she was. And I was laughing at them both for fighting over a little silly matter. I brought kitten Home and then we went to see my puppy at humane society that I adopted the followed day but couldn’t take home until it was fixed. I named the dog Honey and the kitten named was Jazmine.
Jazmine was a turkish van kitten. I loved that cat. unfortunally Jazmine in 2005 got out of the house and got hit by a car. But she always in my memories
My first pet was a black & white cat I named Sneakers. My aunt gave him to me when I was about 6. He was a tom cat in every way. When he came home & was hungry, he’d sit up in the kitchen window. My mom has a picture of me holding him under his front legs & the cat was nearly as long as I was tall, lol! I once tried to do a science project for school on a cats heartbeat, but every time we’d try to listen to his, he would purr so loud you couldn’t even hear it. He was a sweet cat but he could hold his own when it came to cat fights. He’d come home with his war wounds & we’d fix him up. He was a great cat (& I’ve had many since) & I wouldn’t have traded my time with him for anything else.
He wasn’t really the first, but he’s the one who comes to mind when I’m asked about my first. Maybe the ones before him were Momma’s. His name was Casper Snow. I wanted to name him Snowy and Momma wanted to name him Casper the friendly cat! So I put the two together. When we went to get him there was a black cat (his sister) that was also available, but we chose the white one. He had a gray spot on his head between his ears. He was very friendly and very special. He used to chase Momma’s pencil when she was doing her nursing homework! Years later he died of cancer, after several surgeries. He is greatly missed. I have a scar that will always remind me of him, a dog scared him while I was holding him and I got scratched!
My parents picked me up one afternoon outside the gates of my grammer school. I was in the third grade. There was a box of dog bisquits in the back seat. We didn’t have a dog. I was afraid to be hopeful. Next stop was Ottawa’s animal shelter. We were going to get a dog !
After finding a large and burr-encrusted cat hidden in my bedroom — not the first animal I had tried to hide — my parents finally decided that they had to give in and let me have a pet. As we walked down the rows, one dog stood out. He was huddled in the back of his cage, afraid and not willing to compete with all his barking, wagging, shelter mates. My Dad made the decision. He just couldn’t bear to see this little dog so forlorn. He scooped him up and we took him home. Spotty, as I so creatively named him (I was only eight.), was probably part Bordie Collie and part Spaniel. He was six-months old when we adopted him and 17-years-old when he left this world.
Spotty was a unique little creature. He would not walk on a leash but roamed our yard freely, never venturing beyond the end of the driveway. He greeted visitors with a nip to belly and drank out of my Dad’s friend’s beer steins. Spotty slept on my bed, hiding underneath until my mother had said goodnight and shut the door. He travelled from Canada to Arizona with us, wearing a wet washcloth on his head to keep him cool in the car.
We all adored him.
My first dog was a Laspo Apso. She was a year when we got her and I was about seven or eight. We actually went with friends who were looking at the dog and ended up getting her on the spur of the moment. Anyway she was my best friend from day one. She never left my side when i was home and cried and went wondering around the house when I was out., She even followed me to school one day. In the begining she never barked and when she finally did it was the weiredest most unique bark. She got sick in my junior year of high school and we had to make the hardest decision of my life the summer before my senior year. i still hold her in my heart and for my high school class ring(which I never take off) I got her birthstone. She came with the name Chyna but to me she was my baby girl and princess. I do have more stories but think I will leave them to another time.
My first pup was Damien, I found him at the dog pound in 1977. He was a full blooded German Short Haired Pointer but the reason he was in the shelter was he had a hernia. So, I took him and fixed him and he was one of the best dogs I ever had the priviledge of living with! I now live with Bruiser (a Bullmastiff/boxer) & Pearlie (a Black German Shephard) both are rescues & they make me smile everyday! LIFE WITHOUT A PUP JUST ISN’T LIVING & LOVING & ENJOYING EVERYDAY TO IT’S FULLEST! EVERY PERSON & FAMILY NEEDS 1 AND THEY NEED YOU! RESCUE A DOG OR CAT TODAY – THEY’LL LOVE YOU FOR IT & FOREVER!
My first cat was Sally (Struthers – Fields – or was she named from the school books) It was from the school books! She was a mess – never wanted to stay in and you better not lock her out! She was better than an attack dog – Sally attacked anything and everybody she didn’t know! Damien (my German Short Haired Pointer) just kept his distance until Sally adjusted to fact he lived with us too! When I moved from N.J. to GA, Sally couldn’t leave with me as SHE wasn’t home! I went back to get her about 8 months later and my father-in-law decided to put a toilet in the back of my ford fiesta and that’s where she slept – in the bowl the whole way – But when the cop pulled me over in N.C. for speeding (and I was) he laughed so hard he let me off! The Bad is Sally died 2 days after coming to her new home! People are morons in GA they think its fun to run over peoples pets! BUT, WHAT YOU DO COMES BACK AT YOU! ONE WAY OR THE OTHER!
I was nineteen going on twenty and my family-major Doxie- people had been taking care of some strays that had adopted our porch. The “matriarch”-momma cat-was a long-haired black beauty that had obviously been a pet at one point. Her son-Shadow-was a black DSH and totally feral.
We named her daughter-a black DLH-Rhapsody because of her meow. Rhap was skitish but got more friendly over time. On Mothers Day 1990 I was starting to let the dogs out when I heard Rhap calling from the porch. I saw her standing over what I though was a dead mouse “gift”. It wasn’t. She had brought us a kitten so young its eyes weren’t opened yet. She knew we would take care of her baby. We named him Mouse-and he grew up into a huge black DLH.
Unfortunately , Mouse-an indoor cat-was called to the Rainbow Bridge in 1997. He was the first of six cat my parents would have/still have. Did I mention that we-I have two cats and my brother has three-are now “cat people”.
I had my first very own pet when I was 9. I found him. His name was Kittypaws. He was an adult male tabby and white. He hung out with me everywhere. He would lie on the bed when I did my homework, when my friends would come over, he would hang out. He never ran from anyone, and loved to be petted and held. He only had one downside. He was a fart machine. But it was funny. We would all blame each other until we realized Kittypaws did it. He lived to be a very old, pampered kitty.
My, first dogs is the dogs I have now. Bonnie & Clyde. My wife and I got them as puppies so they didn’t end up in a shelter. I fell in love with Clyde the first time I saw him and my wife with Bonnie. They are brother & sister and are 19 months now. Unfortunetly about a month and a half ago we found out that Clyde has oral melanoma. Fortunetly Clyde is the first pup to be in a new melanoma tial at UC Davis. He’s doing well and the tumor has grown any more since he started the trail. So support Canine Cancer Research, the life you save could be your own.
My, first dogs is the dogs I have now. Bonnie & Clyde. My wife and I got them as puppies so they didn’t end up in a shelter. I fell in love with Clyde the first time I saw him and my wife with Bonnie. They are brother & sister and are 19 months now. Unfortunetly about a month and a half ago we found out that Clyde has oral melanoma. Fortunetly Clyde is the first pup to be in a new melanoma tial at UC Davis. http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh192/foreversasquatch/ourkids1.jpg
He’s doing well and the tumor has grown any more since he started the trail. So support Canine Cancer Research, the life you save could be your own.
I’ve had many many animal friends; but the one I remember most of all is Lily the Cat.
Lily was a long-haired Himalayan, with a dark brown face, light brown body and splendid blue eyes.
She joined us when she was barely 2 months old and, if not for the love of Deedee the Dog, our two-year old female Roumanian Poodle, she would not have survived.
My husband bought her at a pet store thinking that she was old enough but I took one look at her and knew she would