NONE! I'M FINALLY FREE OF ALL PETS! LIFE CAN BEGIN PROPERLY!
Ok, so at my dad's place we had a dog that miraculously survived 6 brain hemorrhage episodes, and my stepmom was too stubborn to put it out of its misery. It was a Jack Russell. He liked pie and he liked stealing things from bags.
There were 3 cats at the place. One was called Fluffy. Fluffy was a black female, very small for an adult cat. She wore this little bell around her neck and we could always tell she was on her way. She sometimes would walk along when I had to walk the dog. She never walked along with my dad when he walked the dog, haha.
Cat number two was a male cat called Blondie. It's a very weird family tree we had, like South Park's Newfoundland reference weird, but I think Blondie could best be described as Fluffy's grandson. Blondie was a cat that would never complain. You could sit on him by accident and only 40 minutes later he decided to let you know that you caused an inconvenience. Beware of wearing anything yellow. If he thinks he sees cheese, he'll freaking kill you.
Cat number three, we took in from my uncle when he turned out to be allergic. His name was Sam. Fairly bit bigger than Blondie and Fluffy. He has an identity crisis. He ate our Jack Russell's food, dominated over the other two cats but was as sweet as can be. I know him best for two things: he gets in the most impossible places and positions to sleep in, and when a wild, barking, raging dog would come at him outside he'd just lie on his back, point his legs upwards (all four of 'em, it was a ridiculous sight) and welcome the dog's nose. It never went badly. The dog's size was of no importance. We considered taking him to a catwhisperer once.