I owned mice for about 3 years. They have all moved on to better mousy pastures, but I thought I'd share a few of my favorites.
This is Slide. She was queen mouse and all the other mice knew it.
Shadow, my sleek little black girl was my favorite. She would sit on my shoulder or in my shirt pocket by the hour.
Dust or Dusty for her feather duster long coat was a pugnacious little tart. She was my noogiemonster. She also was master at the "Spider-pig" maneuver of walking on the underside of the mesh cage lid.
Ash was a dainty little girl. She was a gorgeous satin, and the prettiest dove.
Chewy, obtained with Ash --get it? "Ash-Chew!Bless you!"-- and therefore her "Sister" I had almost the longest. She was certainly the longest lived, surviving until 3 years old. She was HUGE. I wonder if she had a thyroid issue, or if she was just a little piggy. I suspect both. She was ironically named in that she loved to nibble fingers.
Crash passed away this fall, the last of my girls to move on. She lived to be 2 and a half. She was a satin as well, and a blaze, with this little Harry Potter zig zag down her face. She was a territorial little girl and she and her sister Boom were single-handedly the reasons I didn't add any more mice after they reached maturity.
This is Boom, Crash's "Sister". She was my little Boomy. I loved her little black cap. She was probably the prettiest of all my mice, though her personality was a little demon.
Little Spanky. Alas. She was an escape artist. She was one of three mice that didn't make it to old age. She got caught in the lid of the cage making a bid for freedom while my son was helping me clean their cage. But, she was a cute little nutter while she was with us.
Scooter was a favorite of my son. She would ride on his head all day if she had the chance. She was a rescue. In this case, literally. I saw her in a reptile cage in a dusty, nasty pet shop in a back labyrinthine corner. I bonded with her instantly for some reason. She was so fearless. I am somewhat ashamed to say I stole her. I slipped the reptile cage open and stuck my hand in. She ran right to me and jumped in my hand in relief. She lived another year and a half and thumbed her nose at all snakes until the day she died.
Mrs. Puff! Ahh, Mrs. Puff. Another rescue, though in this case not so drastic. A co-worker decided she didn't want to have to feed her daughter's mouse any longer. Mrs. Puff was a kissy little girl. I was glad she came home with me.