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I’m Misty. I’m probably about 27 years old. I’ve had so many homes I’ve lost count. But my last one, well, that took the cake. There was this family, you see, who thought it would be fun to have a horse for their seven kids to ride. And they thought they could just keep me in the back yard. That lasted for about a week, when they realized that having a horse wasn’t exactly the same as having a dog or a cat. That’s when I got to come to Furrytale.

I’m Jake, and I bet you can tell I’m a Dalmatian. Can you also tell that I’m 14? Looking pretty good for my age, huh? Still, I got too old and sick for my dad to take me on the road with him, and there wasn’t anyone at home to take care of me. So I came to Furrytale, where I’ll while away the rest of my days. Not a bad life.

I’m Charlie. I’m 14. I guess there’s a reason why I lost my home, but I don’t know what it is. My former people said they’d come and see me, but they never did, of course. I minded that a lot to begin with, but not anymore. I have cat door and can go outside or stay inside, whatever I want. I get lots to eat. And lots of love. As you can see, I’m doing just fine at Furrytale.

I’m Peaches. I’m 15, which is pretty old for a potbellied pig. I had a home, but when my person went off to college, I sort of got forgotten about. I wandered over to the neighbor’s for some company, but their horse bit me. So now I’m at Furrytale, which will probably be my last home. There are other pigs here, too, and one of them is my best friend. His name is Grape Eater. It’s awfully nice to have a friend.

I’m Ric. I’m a Paint. I’m 26 years old, and lame. I had an injury to my leg that was ignored by my former owner, and to make matters worse, I was ridden anyway, which only compounded the problem. So now all I have to do is hang around pastures, and make them look better, which is just fine with me.

I’m Saki, a 15-year-old Chow mix. My former family called me Chance because they said there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d survive. They beat me and kicked me and threw me down the stairs, so I guess they knew what they were talking about. I’ve never been adopted, but I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, the best day of my life was when I came to Furrytale.

I’m Grape Eater. I’m 5, and as you can see I’m a pig. I was part of a big group of pigs that came to Furrytale after being rescued. I got along okay with the group, but then Peaches came, and the group didn’t want to accept her. So I said I would be her friend. So now Peaches and I hang out together and keep each other company and share a house together. You can tell by my name that I love grapes and will eat them all, if I get the chance. Peaches doesn’t mind. And I only try to steal her food sometimes.

I’m Sadie. I’m 13. I lost my home when I bit a neighbor boy. It wasn’t my fault, really — I lived with little kids my whole life and would never hurt them. But I had tripped and cracked my jaw on a cement step, and when the boy grabbed me by the face, it hurt, and I reacted. In Seattle, it’s always the animal’s fault, so I had to leave or get put to death. It’s all right at Furrytale, I guess, but I’d much rather be back with my real family.

I’m Roscoe. I’m a mule, in case you couldn’t tell. I’m 25 now, and much as I think the Grand Canyon is neat, I’ve decided that my packing days are over. Luckily, my former owner realized it, too. Nowadays, I spend my time lazing around the pasture, dreaming about horses or about donkeys, depending on which half of me is feeling frisky.

I’m Rowdy. I’m a potbellied pig, of course. I’m 4 years old and the runt of the group here at Furrytale. Which means some of the others pick on me. But they’re not so smart, because I get fed separately, so no one can steal my food. And I even have a house all my own, if I want it — or I can share it with a special friend, if I feel like it. Being the runt isn’t so bad.

I’m Bailey. I’m 17. I came to Furrytale because of foreclosure, which I think means my dad lost his home and had to move somewhere where he couldln’t take me. I get along with everyone here, and I’m so old now that the other dogs don’t bother to hassle me, and my dad comes to visit me whenever he can, so life is pretty good, and I figure I can stick around a bit longer and enjoy it.

I’m Ricky. I’m 11. I don’t know why I lost my home. I guess I don’t understand people who can throw living creatures like me away like that. I know it’s the world we live in today — don’t want it anymore, get rid of it — but It doesn’t say much good about society, does it? Don’t get me wrong — I like it here at Furrytale just fine. In fact, I like it a lot. But that’s not really the point, is it?

I’m Wannabee. I’m a potbellied pig and I’m 5 years old. I came from a place in California where there were so many of us they put tags in our ears so they could tell us apart. I guess I got attached to my tag, or maybe I was just too scared to let anyone take it out. But I stand out here at Furrytale, and you can tell who I am without hardly looking.

I’m Juliet. I’m probably about 30 years old. I was rescued from a local stable where I was used as a school horse and not treated very well. I was very skinny and I had rolling tendons, but now I’m getting good food and the right kind of exercise, and I figure I’ve landed somewhere between heaven and paradise.