I picked one pet deliberately (my first actual pet that was my own I dug out of a pile of plywood, and decided I had to keep her after all that effort, and named her Ply) and it was a choice between a scratcher and a hisser for Ply's buddy, so I chose the hisser. She lets me rub her belly now and demands to sleep under the blankets once in a while. Her name is nunya business, because I couldn't think of anything else.

We picked Jadzia because she was the one that came running up to us when we went out to look at the kittens. All my other pets have chosen me, one way or another.

Also, Ellen stole Jesse's tumblr idea: [link]

Hmph.

Kat, are you either/both going to get a chance to meet them before you pick? If so, pick the first one that reaches you.

or not.

Really, it's gonna be the one whoever falls in love with the most and has an Opinion. And I'm looking at N&K when I say that.

I think I've only ever "picked out" one pet: my cat Niko. We picked her from her littermates by playing with them. The others held back or got scared. She was the boldest and bravest one, and since she was going to a house that already had two adult cats, we figured she'd need the moxie! And indeed, she ruled the place almost immediately. She was the original "Zenkitty".

Zen, your friend should start leaving military school brochures laying around. Or... maybe see if a neighbor (is this farmland?) could employ her with some chores? Does she have to earn her allowance?

Military school, ahaha, that would be great! I can't even imagine her in military school; she'd get thrown out. No one would trust her to do chores; she either wouldn't do them or she'd mess something up. She does have to earn her allowance, by doing chores around the house, but she doesn't do them, or does them halfway and leaves a mess, and she doesn't seem to care that her allowance is reduced commensurately. She doesn't seem to care about either consequences or rewards, nor is she swayed by anyone's opinion of her behavior. I don't know how to get to someone who only cares until the yelling stops.

Most of my family's pets were foundlings (or, in at least two instances, stolen by one of my brothers). The only exceptions ever are the fucking boxers. Mom, get over that breed, please. Also, get over dogs. Especially ones that eat sheetrock.

First cat: lost/abandoned by neighbors (probably got out of the house when they moved) and had conjunctivitis. Second cat was a stray at gramp's house (fishermen tend to attract cats from far and wide!). She had kittens, we kept one. She was a shite mom, but the first cat kept picking them up and putting them in my dad's sock drawer, which Mom kept leaving open on purpose. Dad kept scooping them out and putting them back in the cardboard box. Tigger didn't give a shit, and Blackie kept mouthing them back into the drawer.

Um, just caught myself about to go on an epic account of all of our cats. But it is long, and sad (I had a friend who was actually afraid we were abusing the creatures for how frequently they died). And so not the topic at hand.

PUPPIES!!!

I've only had the one pet, unless you count the goldfish that I won at the county fair. My sister had: a mouse, duck, parakeet, goat, pony, horse, etc. No, I don't have sibling issues, why do you ask?

But yes, the Biscuit definitively picked us. He was sitting outside my kitchen window looking in and watching me, starving and injured. We fed him bacon. The rest is history.

Lee, we want a really mellow, easy for Grace puppy. So... who knows. they are all cute and wiggly right now. Also, they need a puppy cam!

Military school, ahaha, that would be great! I can't even imagine her in military school; she'd get thrown out.

I know this is a moot point because you can't actually force a kid to join the military, but I have to say that it is an experience outside the realm of what you think you know about yourself or what authority figures are capable of getting out of punks.

Yeah, if your attitude doesn't mesh, you get drummed out, easy peasy, but that's really for people who have a strong identity and can't help but argue about orders and the reasons and the logistics about how they came about (and as nice as it may sound to be one of those people, it can also mean that your mind has atrophied at 18 and you are incapable of seeing or understanding anyone's opinion or viewpoint of your own, and I will laugh when you die alone during the zombie apocalypse, because even if TEAM were spelt with an I, you still wouldn't be part of it, you self-centered twat. Ahem.). But punishment tends to be things like "if you don't do this particular thing, then I'm going to punish your friends until you comply, and now all of your friends will hate you because your bad behavior is fucking them over" and if you want your friends, you learn to fall in line.

When we met Vlad and Erzabet (then unnamed tiny kittens at the shelter), Vlad immediately headbutted Pete, just like the late Tzepesh used to do. I turned back to the kitty carrier, and Erzabet scrambled up me and tucked herself under my chin. Our fates were pretty much sealed at that point.