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I've had lots of pets. My last one died in March 2000. Here he is. His name was The Dude:
The Dude was a brown rat. I used to have a black and white rat, but he didn't like to come out much and he didn't have a name. The Dude enjoyed shoulder rides, eating my houseplants, and watching football, or at least stashing the popcorn while I watched football. He also used to spend a lot of time beating up the one without a name and otherwise maintaining his social standing, which could be one of the reasons why I only had one pet for a while.
My wife would like a golden retriever, so that will probably be the next pet I have, unless I can convince her that pet rats are ok.
Interesting story that goes with this: when I first got the Dude my mom became quite infatuated with him, from a cuddly-furry-pet point of view. On a lark I suggested that I get her a pet rat as a Mother's Day gift, and to my surprise, she liked the idea. That became the first of many pets in a long-running rat civilization based out of my parent's family room. The original rat was named "Socks" after his white feet. Socks was actually a real bruiser of a rat -- more muscular than any I've ever seen before or since. Sox was also quite territorial and gave me a nasty bite one time. That is not typical for pet rats, most of which are quite docile and affectionate.
