I was curious, so I asked online, “What was your first pet?” I added: “How old were you, what species was the pet, how/where did you acquire the pet? What did you learn from the pet?”
Friends online responded with these stories about their first pet experiences:
Katharine Weber (Illinois) I was born already having a pet! A beagle named Smoky. And my first word was “dog.”
Kellie Sisson Snider (Pennsylvania) Tri, a longhaired calico cat. I loved her. She had zero patience for me. Birth thru about ten. She was a few years old when I was born.
Colette Kase (Mexico) Me and Mr. Charlie. He was my first pet.
Photo Courtesy Of Colette Kase
Kathleen Huggins (Washington) Junior Frisky Kitty Huggins (Junior, for short) was there when I arrived. My best friend and closest sibling. He loved being dressed in my doll clothes, complete with a bonnet, and wheeled around in my baby buggy (remember those?). The ladies in my small town would see me pushing the buggy and stop to see my baby. More than a few startled looks, and even a couple of jump-backs, when they pulled away the blanket and discovered a whiskered but contented face, lying on his back sleeping. Pics in those days were on paper and in black and while and I don’t have any e-copies to share, but Junior and I shared all things—a couple of our faves were canned green beans (one for me, one for him) and ice cream cones (a lick for me, a lick for him). Our fave ice creams were lemon custard and black licorice from my grandpa’s ice cream store. One day when I was seven or eight, no Junior waiting for me after school. My mom said he had run away. I’ll never know for sure …
Hilary Lane (Colorado) My first pets were goldfish named Ike and Mike (during the Eisenhower administration). It was kind of exciting to be responsible for feeding them and cleaning their “habitat” every week at such a young age. I talked to them about my daily life, and they pretended to listen! Actually, they lasted a long time for goldfish. I have no idea whether my parents replaced them or not, as they didn’t tell us. We didn’t have an aquarium, just a big fish bowl, so I bet they were replaced and I didn’t notice. This also may have been around the same time we got the painted turtles …
Annie Zeck (Washington) A dime-store turtle with a red rose painted on its back (more than 70 years ago). He lived in his little plastic home and had daily exercise in the living room, where he cleverly climbed mom’s precious draperies to the top. Sometimes he fell, with no apparent injuries. Mom and I got very good at swatting flies just enough to stun them; he liked them fresh. He lived for several years. We called him Flower.
Erin Saywell (Indiana) My first pet was our family dog, Tagg. He came from a breeder down the road who said he was too big to show. He was THE BEST dog. He went everywhere with me, usually off leash. We roamed all over the neighborhood. Tagg even went with me to sell Girl Scout cookies. He’d wait at the end of the walkways, while I went up to the front door.
This pic was from a campground dog show. Tagg was about a year old, I would have been about seven or eight. I was so excited, and I got out there and Tagg didn’t do anything right. My competition was an older man whose boxer knew *HAND SIGNALS*. I was in awe. I still got a bag of candy and a magic marker book … but I went home and taught Tagg all sorts of things, including hand signals.
Photo Courtesy Of Erin Saywell
Jessica Stinson Hudson (Alabama) My first pet was a yellow cat my mom named Hemorrhoids. I was one year old when we got him from a friend whose cat had kittens. He lived to 24 years old. We regularly found tubes of Preparation H in our mailbox; no doubt the neighbors were concerned for us after listening to us calling him in at night.
Jill Gibbs (Montana) My first pet was a German Shorthair Pointer named Ginger. I was about four or five years of age. I was terrified of her, but would talk to her through the screen door. I have since made up for my dog phobia tenfold!
Tim Beau (Oregon) We lived on E. Burnside Street, no yard at all. I was maybe about four years old. It still is a very busy thoroughfare. A German shepherd-collie mix, Danny, came to our home. In a house with two small boys, it wasn’t hard for Danny to slip out the door and into the street. He was hit twice and was lucky to survive. Even luckier for him, there was a veterinary clinic in the next block where he was taken. After round two, my grandmother put an ad in the paper to rehome him. Of course, we boys were heartbroken to see him go. Lots of tears. That was my first pet. The second pet didn’t go well either; Cindy was a tiny dog that came to us about three years later and died within days. I think it might have been from distemper. Things improved after that when we got Tika, a beautiful Samoyed, who brought us seven little puffball puppies.
Carol Duncan (Texas) My dog Bozo was my best friend in my early childhood. He was everything I could have wanted in a companion. I spent hours playing with him in the backyard. He escaped from our yard one day and was missing for several weeks when I was about three or four years old. But one day he came back! He had apparently been staying with another family. When they saw him again in our yard, they asked my father if they could have him. My father said yes. I will never forget the very sad day when they came to get him and I had to say goodbye to Bozo forever. Many tears were shed.
Photo Courtesy Of Carol Duncan
Stephanie Presdee (United Kingdom) First family dog was a black Labrador called Otto. My mother had left me strapped in one of those big Silver Cross prams, and me being me, I tipped over the edge (luckily no further) and the dog went to get my mother by the arm. Years later, we had a second black Labrador which my father called Otto 2 (inventive). Mum had a new Aga [stove] fitted and the electricians left wires touching the gas pipes, under the stairs. Sparks … smoke—fire. The dog who never went upstairs went up and opened the bedroom door to push and nudge my mum awake. When the fire brigade arrived, the dog went up the garden, and my parents found him sitting in the greenhouse in among the black Homburg grape vines. Done his bit … and just left!
