This is my family's doggie, Ebb. She's kind of a dork, but she's a sweety. She's a 9 year old Schipperke (skipper-key) that we got about 10 months ago from some friends of ours after we had to put our dog Sheba to sleep (pic of her to follow!). Aside from barking occasionally when people come *out* of the house, she doesn't say anything. And, she's great at keeping the cats out of the yard... they're the only thing she growls at. Great watchdog, eh?

And this is Sheba (Sheebies as we called her). She was a black lab/ pit bull cross, which sounds like an absolutely huge dog, but she really wasn't. She was about the size of a smaller pit bull, had the build and tail of a lab and the face of a pit bull. She was probably one of the most awesome dogs I've ever known.

We had her for about 3 years. She broke her hip (she ran out in front of my dad's pickup when he was pulling into our yard) and the vet said that she wouldn't use her back leg again. Shortly after her accident, she began walking--only using her two front legs. She'd pick her entire hind-end off the ground to walk. Much to our surprise, she began walking with all 4 legs again and was even able to jump into the back of my dad's pickup without him taking the tailgate down. She was definitely an impressive dog with a lot of spirit.

Unfortunately, she was afflicted with an autoimmune disorder and after trying a course of therapy and seeing her get worse and worse, we put her to sleep. *sniff*

Meet Mr. Goose (or, as my brothers called him, Mr. Turkey). (He'd be the one in the forefront who looks like he's gonna get you.) He was a riot.

He didn't like males, so, he would run across the yard to attack my brothers. My little brother would be outside doing chores in his coveralls, and the goose would run up and attach himself to the pant leg. He'd try to bite and flog and all that stuff that geese do when they're peeved, and my little brother would keep walking, dragging the goose along with him.

But, he'd come up to me and greet me as I was getting out of my car. I could kneel down and tell him to give me a hug--he'd put his head on my shoulder and I could pat him on the back without him attacking my earrings or anything. He once got too obnoxious with my mom and instead of playfully nipping at her, he bit her. So, she pretended to cry and if ever there was a baffled looking goose....he'd follow us into the yard, and sometimes we'd let him in the house (ONLY on the tile, of course).

Unfortunately, he was scared off by a pack of stray dogs that came running through the yard. We thought we could hear him honking from the CRP land near our house, but, after more than 6 months, we still haven't found him. =(

This is one of my kittes, Simon. He's my baby. I've had him since I was in 6th grade. He weighs about 12 pounds, and not a lot of that is fat. He's gotta be able to catch a lot of his own food since he's a farm cat! He's kind of weird....he's crosseyed (no kidding!) and he has what I call a "retarded" purr. Instead of the constant motor most cats have, he sounds like he's asking a question (the pitch rises at the end). "Prrrr? Prrrr? Prrr?"

Of course, I have had many other pets besides these, but these are the only pictures I had time to scan for the time being. Be looking for pictures of the pet raccoons, the duck, the deer we had once, other kitties, cows, horse, and dogs that my family has had. =)