We've had four cats and one dog:
The first was Emmanuel, who lived to be 24. She had a strange habit of dangling her body over the back of a chair and going to sleep, or viciously attacking the chive plant in the back year. Eventually, we had to put her to sleep.
Concurrently with her was Chutney, a Maine Coon. My parents adopted him when they lived in the mountains, and he would regularly hunt red squirrels, and once ended up killing a fox. One of the nicest creatures when dealing with humans, though, and lived to be 17.
Then there was Darby, and angry Maine Coon and Tabby mix. Didn't like visitors much, and became VERY grumpy in his later years because of his severe arthritis which prevented him from cleaning himself. Most likely a result of leaping of the roof of the house when he was a kitten, aiming for the railing on the porch below, missing it, and falling about 20 feet. And starting at precisely 10pm each night, he would go into the bathroom and scream at the water pipe under the sink until midnight, and then go to bed.
The dog, Penny, was a beagle who got along with all of the cats. Would conclude each day with a perimeter check of the yard. Died a few months ago at 15.
Currently our only pet is Rocky, another Maine Coon. Shy, but best friends with Penny, and refused to leave her dead body until we got home that afternoon. After we buried her in the back yard, he wouldn't leave the grave for a full day.