I have two pitbull's named Sasha she's the white one and Tasha she's the multicolored one, my mother named them. And I have four fish the orange ones are named Darwin and Ponyo and the green ones are named Jefferson StarFish and Sean Connery. 

I have a dog called "Kitty"

Well I had a life long childhood cat named marble, she was a inside cat and loved me and my family, her name was marble, then there was my cat I stole from my boyfriend "misa"  Then I moved to Arizona and lived with my real mom and she had 5 dogs, Big girl, Boogie, Casey Lin, Oscar, and gizzmo.. Then My grandpa gave me another cat, I named him Sir fluff-in stuff" but had to get rid of her a month later, Then I spent 400$ on honey "mini poodle" and now I live next door to my boyfriend and now I don't have any... Lol :3

There's the cats: Bear, Brother (Bubba), Smokie, and Princess. Bear is mainly an outside cat, so although he comes in during the night, he spends his days outside.

We're currently also fostering 3 little kittens, too: Ellie, Hammy, Sinatra. That's 2 girls and one boy. Unfortunately, they lost their brother, Teddy, a few days ago.

I have a dog, Snoopy... I miss him, since I live away from home.

I have a soft coated weaten terrer if anyone doesnt know what type of breed that is you can google it  and look and wikipedia anyways her anme is suzie Q becuase my grandmother used to say  suzie Q or call someone that. And anyways she looks like a suzie Q anyways She is the best!

I have loads of pets i have a fish called Thunder a dog called Scamp, two cats called Smudge and Izzy and two rabbits called Thelma and Louise.

I have recently come into ownership of many fish.  Funnily enough, it started with a fish that actually had a name: Benaiah.

I've never been one to name fish really, but this one was special.  You see.... me, my husband, and a friend all went to walk around a mall, which is something I never do.  However, we were trying to find a certain store on the outside of the mall and ended up in some area behind a building where there were no cars, stores, or people.  We figured we'd walk around the building, and something in the bushes caught my eye.  In this random location was a big bag full of water and dead goldfish.  Who in the world buys 10 goldfish and then just dumps them in some back parking lot in the sun, under a bush?!?!  There wasn't even a pet store anywhere nearby, meaning someone had these fish in their car and then for some reason just dumped them!  It was so sad!  We picked up the bag to toss it, and lo and behold....one lonely fish had survived!!!  We dumped the dead fish and brought the live one to the nearest pet store which was about a 10 minute drive away.  The people there told us he was a comet goldfish, said they wouldn't take him, and then offered suggestions for where to release him.  We got in the car and had no idea where those places were, so my husband ran back into the store to ask for directions. Instead, my husband returned with a fish tank, food, and a filter as a surprise gift to me!  Aww!  

So anyways, I thought the fish's story was so amazing that I wanted to name him something along the lines of "saved by God".  I couldn't find any easy names that meant that, so I instead named him Benaiah, which means "made by God".

Having this fish tank sparked my husband's interest in aquariums, so we now have 8 fancy guppies (4 we bought died), 2 mollies (1 golden and 1 dalmatian), 1 pleco, 3 danios, 2 African dwarf frogs, 6 ghost shrimp, and 3 platys.

That aside, we have three cats, one of which I've owned for seven years and the others we have owned for four years.  Their names are Ozzie, Samson, and Dorito.

Dorito is the one I've had the longest, and contrary to what you've most likely imagined, he's a black cat.  It's a mildly humorous story.  When I first got him, his name was Nelson.  I thought, "Who in their right mind would name such an adorable little thing Nelson?!?!"  I wanted to get him a collar and tag, so I had to come up with a name before I left the store.  However, I -hate- naming animals.  I didn't want to call him Midnight, or Ashes, or Oreo, or any such cliché nonsense for black animals. Therefore, I quickly glanced around, saw a bag of Doritos in the aisle, and got his tag made. XD

I have one dog Leia but she is the goofiest dog I have ever seen

stella the dog its a stupid name for a dog.

I had two Goldfish named Tails and Knuckles for a couple years, then, when I moved my sister gave me her cat, which was named Whiskers

the first dog i had was named Paco. Now i have two dogs a boy and a girl. The boy dog is a black dog named Polo and my girl dog is a white and brown dog named Missy.

I have a cat named Neko who is more my son than my pet. He's a black American Short Hair, and he loves to try and sit on my laptop while I'm playing. And he loves my ten-month old. Neko had a birthday a few days ago. He's finally a year old!

I have a Shih-Tzu, who is four years old. His name is Boch, nicknames are "Bocha" and "BochBoch". He was supposed to be named after the composer but my Mom mispelled it when she turned in his registration papers so he became "Boch" instead. He's an adorable little pup, perfectly trained. (He trained himself with a little encouragement from me.)

I also have a cat, Jemuh. She's an American Short-hair, although her hair is a little longer than "short-hair" but not long enough to be qualified as a "long-hair". She looks almost like a Russian Blue though. (I know she's not because her mom and her mom's sister were both tortoiseshell.)

Peeps and other cute names lo because I like to make cute names because they are awesome and I have another pet called bob ! ! ! ! ! 

I have had several animals that were in my care over the course of my life. Some were not exactly mine, but more my parents or otherwise not technically owned by me, but I still count them.

The first pet that would qualify as one I was simply around was my mother's cat, Tigger. He was around for about three years of my life, but I do not know how old he was when he left us. Tigger was a cat that apparently acted like dog; he loved to fetch, liked to try and protect us all, and even enjoyed sticking his head out the car window. I only remember him a little, as I was about two or three years old when we had him, but he looked like a Garfield-type cat. My mother had to get rid of him because where we were moving into did not want any cats. Originally, my mother was trying to get our other family members to take care of him for a little, just until we find another place, but the only person who was able to would lock him in a room all day. My mother drove out of state to find a no-kill shelter for Tigger. Apparently, a vet who worked there was so impressed by how well behaved Tigger was, that the guy adopted the cat himself! Mom got updates on Tigger for a few years from the guy, just so she knew the cat was in good hands.

My parents also had a bunch of fish for pets, but I do not really count them as I believe they did not have names, and my only interaction with them was a childish mishap; I had apparently thought the fish were thirsty and poured chocolate milk in the fish tank. They were fine though, but my parents love telling that story. I think I just called them "Fishies," and the "Fishies" died out before we got our next pet..

We got Buddy, a mixed breed dog, as a pet just before Christmas when I was about four or five. It is funny, as when mom brought him home, my sister and I were actually rather frightened of him, though I think I was scared only because my sister was. He was around for thirteen years of my life, and out lived many other pets of ours (makes sense though, considering he was a dog and the others were just fish and hamsters). His full name was Buddy "Spike" [our last name here] because we were deciding between Buddy and Spike. It just seemed easier to give him a middle name then exclude everything (I had wanted Spike only because I liked the name I heard from "Land Before Time"). When I was 17 or 18, he unfortunately contracted cancer and had a hard time standing up. If he got himself up, he moved around pretty well, but could slip pretty easily. We had him put to sleep, which to this day, I feel as if we murdered him. I know it really was for the best, but it still does not sit well with me.

When I was about 8, I think, is when my cousin and aunt got me my own fish for my birthday. They even supplied a tank, fish food, and two tropical fish. I elegantly named one of them "Tropical" but for the life of me, I cannot think what I named the other fish. Probably because after I had them for two days, the nameless one got sick and died. The pet store, as a way to make up for it, gave me two more fish, whose type I cannot remember. I named those two "Toby" and "Bobby," and I have no idea where those names came from. I just remember the smaller one was Toby and big one was Bobby. Tropical developed some sort of sickness not much too longer and died, but Toby and Bobby lasted about a year I think. I remember Toby was the last one to die.

Some time after Toby croaked and the tank was gotten rid of, a hamster craze had been started with both the family and school. We had a class hamster named Snowball which everyone in the class got to take home for a weekend (with our parents' permission). After I took care of it, I told my parents I would like one. My oldest cousin already had her own hamster as well, which made me want one more, so my parents helped me pick out my first hamster, whom I originally named "Minnie" but then found out he was a boy when his... parts grew in, so I renamed "Ninny."

I had not realized "Ninny" was also an insult you could call someone until a few months of having the hamster, but I figured I already named him, I should stick with it. This hamster, whose type I don't recall but he had red eyes and cream colored fur, was spoiled with a bunch of Habitrail cages; he had a maze, a "suite," a "sky scraper" and a home area. It was a terrible pain to clean, but luckily, I could do it in parts. Sadly, I only had Ninny for 8 months until I accidentally shortened his life span significantly. As a kid, I thought it would be fun to put Ninny in the bathroom sink with cold water running just fast enough to have it running around his legs. The hamster could not get our but could try to run up the porcelain sink in repetition, almost as if he were in a wheel. I had done this numerous amount of times with no problem, but one fateful day, I had turned the water to very hot without realizing it and it burned his feet so bad that after some time passed, they began to decay and he started chewing them off. We brought him to the vet and they said he likely would not live much longer anyway, so I had to make a decision to either put him to sleep or not. I had him put to sleep, and ended up feeling rather numb about it. My older sister seemed more sad about it than I was, to be honest.

After some more time passed, I was ready for a new hamster, but this one would be in a bar cage this time; my parents got rid of the habitrail things in efforts to not remind me of Ninny. Bar cages were easier to clean anyway. This next hamster was a female golden hair hamster named "Speedy," was VERY active. She would typically be found hanging upside down from the top of the bar cage, looking for something to do. She also warmed up to people very quickly and even enjoyed perching herself on my shoulder. I had her for a year exactly; she died a year from the day she was brought home.I still don not know what she died of; I was just petting her while I thought she was asleep and noticed she was not waking. I poked her and she stiffly fell onto her side, rigor mortise had already taken effect. That experience had scarred me for quite some time.

While I had Speedy, my sister had gone through two hamsters. The first she named "Bugsy" who I think was a dwarf hamster, but she got sick and was exchanged for another hamster; a big fat teddy bear hamster my sister named "Furrball." To me and most people, I felt he was a sweetheart, but my sister claimed he hated her, biting at her and all that. He ended up dying by getting his head caught in his wheel which snapped his neck. My sister seriously believes he committed suicide cause he hated her.

After some more time passed I got a third and final hamster. He was supposed to be a type of dwarf hamster, but he was much larger than most dwarf types, so we believe he may have been a mixed breed. I named him "Chipmunk" but Chip for short. This guy was a really lovable guy and lasted for a long time. I think he may have been over 2 years old before he died tragically when we went away for vacation and I forgot to feed him. I think I was around ten then. I feel really awful for that, as he really was a well behaved hamster; the only one who never was able to escape his cage, and got along with people decently, though not as well as Speedy (He would poop or pee on people he did not like). After he died, we decided no more hamsters.

After Buddy had died, we did not have any pets for 7 or 8 years. It was only last year that we got the pet we currently have; Faith, an American Eskimo dog who has suffered through several diseases but is still going strong. She currently has meningitis and steatitis, but her medication has kept her doing all right. She is also really sweet, and damn smart! We had her potty trained in just a few weeks, though she still had "excitement pee" for awhile. She managed to climb out of a box that was meant to hold her for her first few days, out of a baby's playpen, and even a couch that she barely could reach. It all depended how determined she was I suppose. Also, whenever she had an accident, she would come to us, lick and whine as if apologizing and then lead us over to it. Mind, that was after a few accidents where we shove her nose in it did she learn to do this.

So in total, pet names have been Tigger (cat), Fishies (random assortment of fish), Buddy "Spike" (dog), Tropical (fish), nameless fish, Toby (fish), Bobby (fish), Ninny (hamster), Speedy (hamster), Bugsy (hamster), Furrball (hamster), Chipmunk or Chip (hamster), and Faith.

EDIT: Oh wow, I can not believe I nearly forgot one! There was one more that we ended up taking care of last year, though he was not so much our pet, but perhaps more like a cat that wanted to be our pet. His name started off as simply "Kittie" spelled just like that. We encountered him some time after Hurricane Irene passed through our neck of the woods. Kittie had survived hurricane Irene by sticking himself in some bushes and hanging on for dear life, apparently. Our neighbors originally wanted to adopt the poor street cat, but it did not get along with their first cat, so they would just occasionally leave food out for him and give him some attention whenever he came by.

Then in comes my sister. The cat seemed to really like my sister and anytime she was home, it would come up to her, meowing for food. My sister would pet him sometimes, and even left a paper bowl of water out in case he was thirsty, but never placed any food out, because she knew as soon as she did, he would never leave us alone. Dad was yelling at her for just the bowl of water, actually, but she kept doing it anyway. Eventually, she started giving him a little of her chicken when she made chicken salad. Then she started buying cat food for him! My sister even started asking me if I could feed him if she was not going to be around. At first, I was a little worried because I feared the cat might have fleas or ticks or something. He really was a friendly cat though, and I soon warmed up to him, helping feed the cat with the food my sister would provide.

We could not take Kittie in though; when our dog Buddy died, I forgot to mention that our landlord declared no more pets (Faith was a different story though, since my mother and father both have MS, they could get a doctor's order for having Faith, but our landlord was fine since mom would be with Faith all day). Even if we could have him, my parents did NOT want to change a litter box, and to be honest, neither did I. My sister claimed she would, but we know she would not; she had a bad track record when it comes to promising she will do something unpleasant. We also did not want an outside cat, because we do not believe in that sort of care for an animal; it is just too easy to get attached and then it gets run over a car or attacked by another animal or eats something toxic, or what have you! Instead, we actively searched for a home for Kittie. A friend of my sister's boyfriend said she would, and took him for a few weeks, but then her living plans fell through, causing her to be unable to care for the cat. My sister's boyfriend took care of him for a long time, but could not keep him permanently because he has two, old cats that did not get along with Kittie.

Only recently was Kittie adopted. By now, he was renamed to "Odysseus" (or Ody for short) as a reference to how he braved the storms of Hurricane Irene. It is definitely a more fitting name than "Kittie," haha. I did miss Ody when my sister took him to her boyfriend's; we had not had a pet in so long, it almost felt like we had a pet again! He often would greet us at the kitchen side door, pawing at it and meowing for food or attention. Even my mom and dad found the cat to be hard to ignore and would give him a pat. My dad said Ody would sometimes just sit next to him outside sometimes, keeping him company. He also kept mice away from our house which was a nice bonus!  I am glad he finally found a home though; he is a smart and sweet cat, he deserves to have a stable home. I felt so bad when he kept being dropped off into different places.

It really irked me that my sister's boyfriend was able to have the cat for so long and still not want him permanently. Her boyfriend had said he would take care of Ody until he found a home, but did not want to keep the cat after nearly a year of taking care of it. He had Ody and his cats separated during that time so that there would be no fighting, and the room Ody was confined to was quite spacious with several little toys and play areas my sister ended up getting for him. Personally, I think he was afraid it was a sign of commitment with my sister, but that's another story.

I was also extremely mad when things fell through with my sister's boyfriend's friend; that poor cat had to deal with being brought from outside out house to my sister's boyfriend's house, and then to this stranger's house where he settled for a few weeks before being thrown back into my sister's boyfriend's place! We still are not sure if Ody was abandoned or if he was born a street cat because of how well he got along with humans, but he had to have also been from somewhere else since he only showed up around Hurricane Irene so that's one more place he was uprooted from.

Whoops! Rambled on there a bit. I suppose Ody was my pet in more ways than I realize.