First, we've got the IG, Nino. He's a year old boy, pretty red and white coat. He's about sixteen inches tall, and maybe thirteen pounds. Unfortunately, his nose is all scarred up from learning about cats the hard way. We adopted him by chance in front of the Southeast Michigan Humane Society, originally for my mom and dad, on Valentine's Day. Dad was so happy to get a dog again, and spent so much time and money on making Nino happy in his new forever home. It was wonderful to see Dad kicked back in his recliner with Nino draped over his knees, both snoring to beat the band.
But as a few of you will remember, not ten days later, Dad went into the hospital, and passed away two weeks later. Mom couldn't take care of Nino, not with trying to take care of everything else. So, I wound up with our pup, and I brought him to Kentucky.
Then there's Chi. She's an adopted cat--we got her when she was four months old from a rescue. She's a good sized gal at about twelve or thirteen pounds, maybe more, with a wonderfully soft coat. Chi is a spoiled brat, and loves to cuddle and take up your whole pillow if you'll let her. She's also what's casually known as an "attention whore", in her hooker boots (she's got white legs, up to just above her hocks). An amusing sidenote with her is that if you talk to her, she'll meow back, and carry on quite the conversation. Chi has a fondness for washing her humans, especially the hand that's petting her. Though heaven help you if breakfast is late, because she'll wake you up by yowling in your ear and washing your eyelids!
Bitsy is my oldest pet that's still with me, a stray Maine Coon that either escaped or was turned loose when I was still in high school. My little sister was the one that found her on a drizzly October morning, so thin that the wind was making her stagger along. Dad was so angry with her for bringing Bitsy home--Mom has two cats already--that he didn't speak to her for two weeks. Ironically, Bitsy hated Jill's guts. She decided that I was the perfect human, despite the fact that I tried not to get attached, since we were trying to find someone to adopt her. In the long run, she was stuck with us. I took her with me when I moved out, and she's stayed ever since. Moonie calls her the "cookpot kitty", since the bottoms of her feet and legs are black, like a pot left on the stove for a long time. She's more reserved and dignified than her sister, sitting aloofly on the bookcase, glaring disapprovingly down at Chi as she flops over for the humans to pet her white belly fuzz.
For years, Den has wanted a pet snake. I didn't like them in the least--I also didn't know anything about them. When we vacationed in Florida for ten days, we visited Morgan (where she's originally from), and I got acquainted with Petey and Chi Sai, the ball pythons. A month and some change later, Den got Lady, an eight month old ball python, for her birthday. She's a typical ball in appearance, being a lovely shade of cream, brown, and black, with bold patterns on her scales. However, she's unusual in her attitude. Balls have reputations as being finicky eaters, but Lady will eat anything, from a live mouse to a dead (frozen and then thawed out) rat, without any hesitation. She also doesn't ball up when she's startled, and is very handle-able. She's not an ornament, but a pet.
Next, Morgan's animals. She works in a pet shop, so we've got a wide variety.
First, we've got Dusti. She's a sweet cockatiel who just loves to be petted, especially on her rosy cheek patches. She's utterly in love with Morgan, who sings all the time, just like a proud male cockatiel. Dusti is a fallow cockatiel, meaning that she's yellow and white with touches of brown to her feathers, with pink eyes and beak and feet, instead of grey, white, and yellow feathers. Otherwise, she's a typical cockatiel, chirping and attempting to fly--they're not graceful birds, and usually land on their faces or tailfeathers.
Virgo is a typical ball python, down to her finicky eating habits. The only difference is that she really likes to be handled. Put your hand in her tank, and she will coil around your wrist so you can pick her up. She's also very heavy bodied, and while not any special morph (pattern and color), she's extremely bright yellow, with the normal brown and black markings. She's been sexed as female, but acts more like a male.
...now don't go off in the wrong direction at the next pet. We have Wallet. Wallet is also a ball python, a little more than a hatchling, and a voracious eater. She's not so good at being handled, but she's still a bitty. Give her time, and she'll be a pro. We don't let our animals, even the ones with brains the size of almonds, get the best of us.
In the next tank is Tamale, a crested gecko. She's the color of old gold, and sticks to any surface. She's got sticky feet (and tail!), but unlike a frog's suction cups, they're just rough, feeling more like damp suede. She's convinced she's starving to death, even if she eats six or seven mealworms (one hell of a meal for something with a body that's only four inches long!) a few minutes ago. You walk past her tank, and she will try to strike, or will make a flying leap from one side to the other, just to get closer. An interesting thing that she does is lick her own eyeballs to clean them.
Gonzales is a leopard gecko, a very handsome old man. He's yellow with black spots, with white and pink bands on his tail. He's very patient and will just lay about and sleep if you let him. However, we've been worried about him lately, since he's losing weight and not wanting to eat. There's not much to be done for an exotic, though. I just hope we don't lose him.
Then there's George, Peaches, Speedtrap, and Trip the betta fish. They're all males, housed in separate areas, so they're not stressing each other out. George is a white and pink fantail, Peaches is a pink fantail, Speedtrap is a bright blue fantail, and Trip... Trip is just about every color, splashed chaotically over his body and fins. They're our kitchen ornaments, but they're lovely.
The last pet we have right now is Jack. He's a Manx, with a bit of a tail. There's no bones to it, and it's just an inch or two long, and we call it a bumflap. Really, all it does is catch poop when he uses the litterbox, and make him somewhat unpleasant to snuggle. He's also an UTTER MORON. Jack has a perpetually startled look, and forgets where his food dish is. He's very sweet though, which is his sole saving grace.
We're still considering a horse, though our apartment complex is jacking us around, so we're tempted to use that money to break our lease and get into a house.