By now you know I live with 10 pets — three dogs and seven cats.

Notice I didn’t say they live with ME because in reality I live with THEM. And boy do they know it. I’m a bit outnumbered, especially with my cats. So consequently, what I want is of no interest to them. My purpose in their eyes? Make sure their bellies are full, and to accommodate them, use no more than the very edge of my king size bed.

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not complaining. And lest you think otherwise, I’m actually sane (although it may not seem that way to petless people). But that’s fine with me. You’re entitled to your opinion, however erroneous it may be. Fortunately, I don’t fault you for it.

I’ve lived alone now for nearly 15 years, if having a ton of pets can be considered living alone. I guess I should say I’m the only human in my house. It was my first time going solo since I left my parents home to share a rental with Sharon.

Followed by being married to my high school sweetheart for 28 years.

But from early childhood until now (except the four years I roomed with Sharon), I’ve never lived without a pet. First, there was our family cat Tiger (I don’t have a photo), followed by a poodle, Charlie.

Then, after Jim and I married, he recognized my passion for furry four-legged beings and jumped on board even though he’d only had one dog growing up. I’d always wanted a Cocker Spaniel (before I preferred adopting from shelters). So one day Jim surprised me with Tequila, a 7-week-old puppy.

Over the years, he came to expect we’d become a multi-pet family and he was correct. We adopted Bailey from Second Chance Rescue, Nellie from Greyhound Friends for Life and Gussie we acquired from Jim’s brother.

Once I started volunteering at Marin Humane in the early 80s, cats were added to the mix. Oliver was found hiding in a dog house in someone’s backyard. He had a neck wound so I fostered him. Failed foster #1 (meaning I failed to give him up). Cinder we rescued from the 1991 Oakland hills firestorm.

Sierra I found as a kitten sleeping in a tire on a Tahoe beach. I discovered Rudie, a sickly kitten, while jogging by a nearby ranch.

Savannah and Fat Jack I rescued living behind a grocery store in rural Valley Ford.

Once I formed Marin Friends of Ferals and began fostering semi-feral cats and kittens, all bets were off. But hey, of the 260 animals I’ve fostered, I’ve only kept 10, which shows (in my opinion) stellar restraint. Failed fosters Dash and Mango were among those in the no restraint category.

And similarly, Skye and Piper were also too feral to be adopted yet too domestic to live as ferals. The way I see it, I had no choice. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it.

Wally entered the picture when I went to Berkeley Humane to pick up dog food for Marin Humane and caught a glimpse of him walking nicely on leash and never once barked at passersby. Boy did he have me fooled.

Callie was my first foster dog. At 3-months-old, she was hit by a car. After Marin Humane amputated her leg, I agreed to foster her. Lastly, Taffy I fostered while she recuperated from spay surgery. I mean, really, who can resist that face?

So I guess you could say I don’t know what it’s like to be lonely. Yes, my pets drive me nuts sometimes. But all in all, I wouldn’t have it any other way.