My first pet's name was Scotty, a small, curly terrier/poodle mix. His arrival in the family preceded mine, actually, so you might say I was his first child. My little sister used to eat his food sometimes, but he never seemed to mind.

My first pet was Tabitha, a black and white and green-eyed cat. We adopted her when I was four, and she would play tag with me (in which we would chase each other). She's much older now, but she still likes to follow me around.

Coco the hamster. I love The Silent Years! And Coco would too, if he hadn't passed on in 1994.

A calico cat named freckles... her friends were hairlip and woodeye, so lets just say she got one of the better names. once, she chased a neighborhood dog up a tree.

My first pet's name was Mickey. He was a black-and-white cat (a Holstein cat?) my mother heard meowing as a kitten in the wild while she was preggers with me. She took him in, and was our cat until I was 7 or 8.

My first pet was Sparkles the hamster. I remember being so excited at six years old with a cute brown and white fuzzball. She used to snuggle in her orange house and in my hand when I held her. She loved her giant hamster ball (: I was so sad when Sparkles passed away a year later.

My first pet was a cute little cream colored hamster named Oatmeal. I received him as a Christmas present when I was six. He lived a long life full of misfortunes including me making him do "circus tricks" on chair rungs, my brother spinning him around in his plastic ball, and falling down a heating duct into the furnace when my dad was doing repairs.

Cali the Calico Cat. Apparently I wasn't particularly creative as a child-namer-of-things, but I did like alliteration.

He is the great Lucious Velvet, and he is my all black pussy cat. Lucious and I can be found listening to the few silent years mp3's I have. We can also be found drinking a warm cup of hot chocolate (made with milk, NOT WATER) while watching the newest episode of The Daily Show/Colbert Report. All praise be to Cat Nip!

My first pet's name was Bootsey (shh, I was 3). It was a black cat, and he liked to open doors and sleep on my face. He's probably why I'm now allergic to cats. When my parents split, we moved out with my mother, and I never saw him again.

Brie, my first pet, had been around about four years before I was born. She was a mutt who was predominantly collie, and she acted like another mother to us kids. She would follow us around everywhere, to the point where if my mom didn't know where we were, all she had to do is drive around the neighborhood and see which yard Brie was patiently waiting in.

nigel: he was a tarantula

My first pet was a cat name K.C. for kittycat, because I was, and still am, horrible at naming my pets. She was followed by G.P. the guinea pig, Iggy the iguana, snowy the white rabbit, and bunny buts, the rabit with a large rear end.

Two were already at our homestead when I was born "She-relle" a sheep dog and "Purry"...a cat.

Yoshi. She was a mutt, and she had epilepsy. She chewed my pillows up.

I had two cats at my house by the time I got there, Minue and Minuet.

Orpheus the siamese cat. He liked to swing from the curtains like he was in the jungle (if people really swung on vines in the jungle).

My parents got a dachshund puppy when I was a baby, so that I would grow up with a pet. She was named "Glory" because my parents were religious fanatics. When I was about three years old, I witnessed Glory get hit by a car. I asked my family why she was sleeping in the road like that.

Mouser... a freakish mutant tiger striped cat whose father was half lynx and had 10 toes per paw. Albeit slightly less freakish than her father, Mouser only had 7 mangled claw bearing toes per paw. She would climb our door frames, and hang upside down from them, and then drop upon the unexpected with vigor and furry. She was the sweetest manslaughtering daemon that i've ever had the pleasure of being mauled by, and I miss her.

My first pet was a little frog my mom called "Monsieur Froggie." He lit up our lives in this tiny aquarium we had set on the kitchen table. I remember watching him swim around the plastic palm trees and stone castle when I would eat breakfast. We got him a playmate shortly before he died, but Monsieur Froggie definitely stayed the number one pet.

My first, and greatest, pet was Ginger the golden retriever. We got her from he Humane Society in Savannah, Georgia when I was in the second grade and she never left my side once in fifteen years... Even when we had to put her down, it was my hand resting on the top of her head and scratching her ears... She wouldn't have anyone else. I miss that dog.

Bernard was a hamster. And just between you and me, he always creeped me out.

Benji the dog (already named when we got him, I probably would have called him Snooker given the chance), he used to eat everything. Once, my cousin sent my sister some pot for Christmas. Benji found it under the tree and ate it. He had such a bad christmas, didn't know what hit him.

My first proper pet was a hampster by the name of Hetty. She managed to break her back by falling on her food dish.

I had two neon fish, one pink, one yellow. They were named the Pink Ranger and the Yellow Ranger respectively.

Hey! My first pet was a black cat named Carbon!

My first pet was a turtle named Roscoe. One day when we had him in the yard for his daily dose of freh air and exercise, he dug under the fence as we played nearby. The neighbor's dog Chief, a German Shepherd, scared him into his shell, where he remained for three days. When he finally emerged, he was pale and moved very slowly. He died that evening. RIP Roscoe.

Sufi, the burmese cat. She was deliciously chocolate brown and lived to the ripe old age of 14.

It was a terrapin called Soup. Yeah, we have a terrible sense of humour. It died after I tried to give it some sun :( In my defense I was only 9.

Midnight is my cat currently. she's my first pet, andmy only pet. She actually followed me home when i was 2, like dogs do in movies... but she's a cat...

My first pet was a German Shepard named Teddy

My first pet was Toby, he was a goldfish who died because we didn't rinse his fishbowl well enough after disinfecting it :( That made me sad

Lolly the green feathered peach face lovebird. First she taught me to love, then to blush

Bubba the Goldfish. My mother boiled him alive in a tragic water changing accident (true story!) and then flushed him before I had a chance to say goodbye. I cried over the toilet for at least ten minutes.

We had a few pets when i was a baby but can't remember them. So my very own first pet was three goldfish I won at a fare. They were called Goldie, Fishy and Sylvester Salami. They died due to an overdose of talum powder when my brother was trying to recreate a snow storm in my bedroom.

My first pet was my dog Blackie- RIP

When I was little, I had a white and grey cat named Genny, which was short for Gentleheart. And you see, that kind of name scheme pops up when you let your kids watch Care Bears. So parents take heed.

My first and only pet was a feisty and obese hamster named Happy. Because I was afraid of touching him, he gradually learned to be petrified of all human beings. But I loved him, nonetheless, but I knew the feeling was most likely not mutual.

My first pet was Poky, a black-and-white, curly-tailed, good-natured fluff ball named afer the Golden Books storybook character the Pokey little Puppy. He's part miniature poodle, part who-knows-what-terrier.. maybe a Shaltie? His mother had a scandalous fling with some mysterious dog. Scandal. Poky was the only pup in his litter because he was so gigantic there was no room for anyone else. His original name was Skunky-Joe because of the white stripe around his neck and at the tip of his tail, but when I got him I would have no other name but Poky. My parents gave him to me when I was 3 because they didn't think they were going to be able to have any more children, so he was a brother to me (in addition to a human brother who wound up coming along as well). He is still the sassiest dog I've ever met. He has no idea he's old (17!), despite being neutered continues to have a lustful relationship with our yard's soccer ball, and orders us to give him treats. He makes a lot of un-dog-like noise: since he was a puppy when my brother was learning to speak, we think that he tried to learn too. Sometimes when I lie on the ground he comes over and lies with me, mimicking my pose whether it be on my stomach, side or back. His favourite way to sleep is on top of many shoes, with his nose jammed into one. He has a zero-tolerence stomach, everything makes him sick. The trooper's been chilling out with cancer and a heart murmer for 4 years, living with my parents across the country. I miss him! If it ever occurs to him to finally die, it'll be one of the worst days ever.

The link is a picture of Poky as a birthday pirate.

my first pet was Grace Rosemary Eaton the beta fish. i named her myself on my 6th birthday. she liked to jump for her food and make bubbles. one day when she was swimming in her little plastic cup on my dresser while i cleamed her bowl and she jumped and landed behind my dresser and got covered in dust, she was never quite the same.

My first pet's name was Honey Bear, a cairn terrier that was neurotic and pidgeon-toed. She was the spitting image of Toto from the Wizard of Oz, only with more issues and less training. We had her for over 15 years. I still miss her, and she's been gone for almost 8 years...

My first pet was a hamster nammed Chubby. Little did I know, she was pregnant when I bought her, and she had eight babies the first week I had her. So I guess you could say I got nine for the price of one. What a bargain! I had one of those clear plastic balls you put hamsters in. I used to love watching Chubby roll around the house in that thing! Man, thinking about this almost makes me want to get a hamster again...

Fuzzy the hamster.

A girl in my 5th grade class had a hamster that had babies. She gave them away to several of us in the class. Fuzzy was the only one who lived for more than a couple of months, including the mother. He lived a long hamster life, 2 years.

My parents had fish when I was quite quite young, but Fuzzy was the first that was actually my responsibility.

Midnight the bunny was a spur-of-the-moment purchase from a 4H fair while on summer vacation in rural Vermont the year I turned six. He came with a bright orange book on how to care for your bunny through every stage of its life...and then some: the last two chapters were about how to kill, skin, clean, and carve your rabbit.

Needless to say, a bad idea all around. When it turned out I was allergic, not to mention constitutionally incapable of keeping a cage clean, we put an ad in the paper, and subsequently gave him away to a more deserving family, complete with slightly older, more responsible children.