I'm a sucker for dog.. well.. nice ones. I like nice, medium sized dogs. Not too loud, not agressive. I like 'em when they're middle-aged. Really laid back, matches my way of living, somewhat.
BUT, living the apartment life, having a dog is out of the question. Landlords don't allow them and it'd feel trapped.
Cats are great, but they just don't like me much. And they shed a LOT (a big dog may shed, but they don't climb on you when they do it)
I'll say, above all else.. I believe in Newt. I have a newt. I got him when I was not quite 8 (Feb. 1988). Sometime in 1998, I realized he'd been alive for 10 years. He's still alive. He's 13 1/2 years old. Newts are supposed to live between 18 months and 4 years. His name was Chris. But ever since I saw him standing straight up on his hind legs, staring at the sky, I have named him Cthulhu. I tapped on the glass, he looked at me, and casually swam away.
All the other aquatic animals in the house have died since Cthulhu entered the picture. Any goldfish put in the tank died within a year, and when I brought a Betta (Fighting Fish) in the house, a room away, he died within a week. Cthulhu drains their essence to fuel his ever-growing body.
Since I've moved away, I have no idea if he's still alive, but I hope so. My mother *hated* him, so she's likely "forgotten" to feed him. Mind you, he's gone without food for weeks at a time. Crazy lil' elder deity.
So, I believe in newt. I pray to newt. I take care of newt so that when the stars are right, I will be spared the most gruesome of deaths.