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Adara is a german shepherd mix. She has gold dappling on all four paws and the cuted little blue-gray toe markings accross the paws. She's an almost solid black, and we're not sure what the other bits are. We suspect more Shepherd.

Adara's a sweet thing. She's just... Excitable. She's getting Mouse to play, which is good, given his age. Might help him stay healthy and keep around for a while longer. We take the pair of them to the dog park, currently, 3-4 times a week. It's just down the road a bit, so it's not far. She doesn't play with much for toys, but she loves her collection of rubber balls... And enjoys shredding everything else. Tennis balls and soda bottles are a favorite.

I'll be looking for a tail very similar to what I get for Max, most likely, only thinner. It'll probably come through as a custom tail. I'll also want a plastic bottle or two and a couple of balls in the picture, maybe settled at her feet. I'll post pics when I have access to them.

Artemis is a ham, so most of the shots we've got of him are either him sleeping or him in funny positions, staring at the camera... or him sleeping in funny positions staring at the camera. Artemis is a gray alley/tabby with white markings on his face, underbelly, and socks in variants on all four paws. I'll be looking for a feline tail edit and a collar with a bell on Arty. (Lapis blue collar with a silver stripe running through the middle.)

Artemis' eyes are sort of a dirty gold, and almost always are pointed both at the top and bottom, irregardless of the light.

Quite often a troublemaker, Arty's earned the nicknames 'Shouldercat' and 'Neuroticat', as well as the occasional 'You pain in the a$$!', but doesn't every cat earn that one at some point?

Bentley was always a bit of a codger, but he was an outside cat until the end, hunting bluejays mid-flight until he started wearing down. An old soul, Bently rarely played with the humans. He preferred to play with the live things in the backyard, and occasionally brought home mice, birds, and occasionally, a girlfriend. (Doc forgot to tell him he was fixed.)

The very few times he wore a collar, he slipped out of it, so we just stopped trying. I don't have very many pictures of him, but he was just an old alley cat, so the one I have should do just fine. Bentley finally couldn't continue at the age of 17 (I think that was our last estimation, but there's some give/take because we're not sure exactly how old he was when we got him). His eyes were once a vibrant, eerie yellow, and his pupils were usually very round.,

I'll be looking for a feline tail edit and Whiskers on Bentley. He will be one of very few without a collar. Bentley will be given to my mother, as he was her cat.

We rescued CJ when my grandparents had a new critter that meant they could no longer keep her. The feline was sleek at the time, but over time grew to be extremely FLUFFY... Believe it or not, most of what you see in the picture is muscle. She looks pudgy and slow, but the cat had a surprising amount of speed, endurance, and wit.

CJ particularly loved the laser pointer and her slender little cerulean collar. She never slipped the collar, and she'd chase the light no matter how many other cats were in the room. CJ had a nearly bald patch on her rump near her tail because of a water burn, and golden eyes. Her pupils usually looked like baseball diamonds.

I'll be looking for a slender, light blue collar and a feline tail edit, plus some extra 'fluff' body edits on CJ. CJ will go to my mother, as CJ turned out to be her cat, once in our household.

Lyra is a sweet little thing. loves toys and the laser pointers. Lyra and Romani are Littermates, and have never been apart, excepting travel. Lyra is a gray tabby with tortoiseshell calico mottling underneath the stripes on her back. Currently, Lyra is Fat. I'm not going to sugar coat it, the cat has a slow metabolism and loves to eat.

She has earned the nickname Pudgeybutt, and I often call her 'Lovely Little Lady Lyra'. We have found out, however, that reaching for the feather toy while she's watching it is a bad idea. Despite the fatness of this little kitty, she's quick as a whip, and WILL get you, just as badly as Artemis will.

I'll be looking to get the Feline Tail Edit on Lyra. I also want the markings on her neck - The little bubbles of white and the double collar of gray that don't quite meet right there - To be properly in place. I may request a collar at a later date - when she has one.

Maxwell was the sweetest little australlian shephered I've ever known. He's the only one I got to know via constant close quarters. Active and happy, Max had a love for people that couldn't be equaled. He also had an absolute hatred for closed spaces and alone time. In his later years, he chewed through a bedroom door and the back door, when he was left outside too long because the only person who had any knowledge of his being out didn't bother to tell anybody and went out for the evening. We replaced the door, and shortly after had to send poor Max off to that lovely little valley. He and skeeter still wait for Mouse, as they're all part of the same pack.

Max was brown and black, in a standard Aussie Shepherd pattern, and had milky brown eyes.

I'll be looking for a light blue collar with bones and food bowls on it, and probably a bangs/mane/tail edit, as well as floppy, fuzzy ears and body fur. The only picture I have of him is a concept I drew.

Mouse is a rare breed, and, quoth the vet when we found him, a purebred. Beyond that, he is a rare version of his breed. As a Chinese Pug, he has enough prestige to be known and noticed by any dog lover. But as a double-curl chinese pug, he is an EXPENSIVE dog.

When I found Mouse, 12 years ago, I was walking home from school. I took the alleys, because it was quicker and I had less traffic to worry about. Around halfway home, this little pug came up to me begging for attention and food. I only had one, so I did everything in my power to lead him home. When he grew bored of the small treebranch I was dragging, I picked him up and carried him the rest of the way home. We searched for his owners after that. Put up fliers, contacted the pug rescue society, asked around the area I found him in, but nobody knew him, so he stayed with us.

Mouse is MY dog. He doesn't curl up at anyone else's feet, he doesn't share anyone else's bed, and he doesn't listen. To me, much, either, but... Not the point. He listens to me more than most. It's a matter of pride that he's so strongly my dog. He has recently been playing with the new addition to the family, Adara, extensively. I love watching him bounce around like he never has, despite being just about ancient, now.

Poor Mouse has Gingivitis at the moment, and absolutely hates having his teeth brushed, so there's not much I can do one way or the other. I'd love to take him to the vet to have it fixed, but we can't afford it right now.

I'll be looking for a custom collar design (I'll put up a picture when I have one) and a very short mane, probably a custom one, or a design of his curled tail unfurled. I'll also be using a newer picture than the one below for him, when I have access to them.

Nova... Wasn't my cat. Nova was actually my sister's claim. And this is the only picture I have of him. He had a big caramel spot on his middle back and the three on his face.

Nova had problems with mild seizures, back pain, and some small neurotices. I don't remember the exact reason for his passing, it all happened rather quickly... And while I was at school. I believe it was something in regards to his seizures, which were caused by his involvement in a car accident when he was young. I don't remember much of his personality otherwise.

I'll be looking for pattern exaction, as close as can be gotten, a slender, dark blue collar with painted on fish and bubbles in neon colors, and a feline tail for Nova. Nova will be given as a gift to my sister, probably for whatever holiday is closest to his arrival. Sister and I are no longer on good terms, so... meh. I'll see if I can get a picture of the collar, but can't make any guarantees.

Romani is my baby. She's the sweetest thing that could ever be. She's also the biggest coward that you've ever seen. For the most part a loner when company rolls in, Romani hides in whatever dark, quiet little place she can find. She preferres either the shower's floor or under my mom's bed. If I lived with my mother, still she'd prefer my room. (I did not too long ago, so this isn't an ego statement.)

Romani is a basic orange tabby. As far as any of the vets around here can tell, that's as rare as a male callico: It just doesn't happen. With eyes like milk chocolate swirls, most who get to see them wonder if she can't see straight through their souls. She is an absolutely beautiful cat, and I wish I could have her in this bedamned appartment without having to pay as much as I would...

I'll be looking for the noteable collar ring she has at her neck, which goes all the way around. I'll also be looking for a feline tail edit. The Sleep picture has a good view of the pattern there. Romani may see RP, and I might consider breeding her.

Skeeter was a love. The name of her breed was the Kerulean(sp?) Bear Dog. Before she came around, I hadn't even heard of such a beast. They're apparently raised in another country, originally, to hunt bears. Skeeter didn't hunt bears, but she had quite a problem with men. For some reason or another, she hated men. Couldn't stand them. After a few meetings and spending some time together, she grew easier around my grandfather and uncle.

Keeping a possessive and protective nature, Skeeter had scared off plenty of intruders, peeping toms, and other general assmunches, before her time came. When Skeeter started slowing down, we took her to the vet, and found out she was having organ failure issues. At my mother's wish, she was sent to sleep, to run and play with the others at that wonderful, beautiful valley all animals wait for their human companions in. Her body was creamated, and now stays with my mother.

I'll be looking for a blue-green-emerald collor thick, cloth collar with a bone tag that spells her name, and a mane, tail, and bangs from the Long stock. (Because that's what I want.) Skeeter will be the first of the Memorial pets I will obtain. Skeeter will be shared among my mother, my uncle, and myself.

Stormy wasn't entirely my cat. Not until we adopted her and her brother Thunder when their original owner, a friend of the family, could no longer keep them. We did not, however, obtain them from him. He had first sent them to live with some people he worked with, thinking we would be unable to care for them.

Collossal... Mistake.

When the felines were reclaimed, both were severely undernourished and had rings of fur missing from around their necks. Stormy had constant problems with vomitting and upset stomach, but we could never pinpoint what was wrong. She continued this way until it became a health risk. I can't tell you what was wrong, because even the vet didn't quite know, but because of it, we had to send Stormy off to wait with Skeeter and the others. Thunder was already there.

Stormy was an American Shorthair, with vibrant green eyes and a constant scowl. That expression never once faded, and any time I pet her, she would leak her silly little tears all over my lap and meow like there was no greater joy in the world. Unfortunately, I didn't get as close to Stormy as I would have liked. It's hard to really enjoy a cat when all your time together is spent cleaning up after her tummysick and breaking up fights. (She was a territorial witch...)

I'll be looking for the feline tail edit and a thin, light green collar.

I had Thunder for a much shorter time than I had Stormy. But that cat owned every inch of my soul and it broke me to millions of pieces when the vet said he was dying of organ failure. The only alternative to saying goodbye was extensive testing and pain meds that might only extend his life a couple months. Even writing this, I have to blink and brush away tears and force myself to breath.

Rescued from the same situation as Stormy, for the same reason, and with the same apparent external damage, Thunder settled into life in my room quickly. I was happy to cuddle with him at bedtime and snuggle with him while I was on the computer, whether I was playing WoW, drawing, or whatever else. Thunder had this way of knowing just when I was about to load up a game or my digiboard and hopping up on my desk to put my time to use elsewhere. I've never known a more loving cat.

We knew there was something really wrong when he stopped doing that. He stopped coming out into the light and hid in my closet all the time. He began to smell funny, his eyes became limpid, he wouldn't eat or drink, and he was losing weight. When we took him to the vet, we found out his organs were failing due to internal damage we hadn't seen earlier. I cried. I cried so hard. it didn't matter that the vet was watching, or that it was a public place. I couldn't watch him suffer any more. Even if we could have afforded the treatment, it would still have only been another couple months. Three at the most, said the vet. They stuck the needle in and those beautiful pools of golden light, even as limpid as they had been, slowly faded into black, lifeless abysses, dragging me in. I broke a shovel trying to dig his hole, and nearly broke another one, before my uncle took over, digging through red texas clay so he could have a good, new home.

And then, I just broke. There was nothing for weeks. I'd say it was pathetic, but I'm still broken, and it still hurts. I think after that, my opinion of stormy changed, too. She was a reminder of him. But she cuddled with me anyways. She knew I needed it. The dogs were upset, too, and skeeter stuffed her nose in my face frequently. I don't remember what got me moving again, but I didn't move far.

Thunder was a beautiful black bombay, with slick, shiny fur, always. His fur didn't go through moods, and coursen when he was unhappy, like the other cats, and it was never dirty. He only showed his claws when he was off-balance, and he had this beautiful roar of a purr that could rattle rooftop shingles. His only real marking was a little white star-blaze on his underbelly, right between the front part of his knees, where his kneecaps were.

I may not be able to actually put the desire into getting Thunder's image. I do plan on getting a tattoo of a drawing I did of him shortly after his passing on my right arm Butch style.

If I do, I'll be looking for a golden halo, white angel wings with flecks of silver, pattern accuracy, a feline tail edit, and the golden eyes in a serious / determined glare. (Look at any picture of a Black Bombay Cat.) I do not at current have a picture of him, and I doubt if I have a picture of his belly anywhere. The above description should be good enough.

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