We have a menagerie here, with more than a dozen cats, 4 dogs, 4 rabbits, two snakes, and a leopard gecko. The kids and my wife have named all the ones we have here right now, I think.
A short time ago we said goodbye to a cat I named back in 1988. My wife had a habit of rescuing the feral kittens from an abondoned house across the street. We would get them used to people, place an ad, and get them homes. But we always seemed to keep one from each litter. (She also trapped adults and we got them spayed/neutered.)
She brought home two kittens that were not yet weened but their mother was gone or had abandoned them. We fed them kitten milk replacement from a tiny baby bottle. One was loud and obnoxious, so we agreed we would keep the other. Except she did not make it.
The other one survived. He remained loud, when he chose to speak. He was mostly white and grey (like my own hair
). I named him Cat Chullain as a pun on the name of the Irish Red Branch hero Cú Chullain (The Hound of Cullan).
It's been a couple months already, but I still think I see Cat Chullain out of the corner of my eye from time to time.