Well, going back to the very beginning, my parents had a Scottie before I was born that was related to FDR’s Fala and was named Laddie. He ate ground sirloin when they were subsisting on cabbage.
When I was a toddler, we had a dog named Sandy that was some kind of small black poodle mix. Sandy escaped from the car one night and was never found.
We had a dog that was probably a Shepherd/Rhodesian RIdgeback mix, named Alexander when I was about 4/5. He disappeared when a family in our area moved whom he had been accustomed to visit while we were at school. (Those were different days…)
We got a GSD when I was about 6, when I had eye surgery, who was “my” dog. His name was Freddie (Friedrich Wilhelm the Conqueror. He was a wonderful dog.
Then, when I was in HS, we had white GSDs: Alexandra (because she was white, as in White Russians) her daughter Charis (from my classical Greek litter), and her daughter Rhiannon (from my Celtic litter).
When I first met my husband we adopted two cats - Chesterfield, named after the sofa, and Valmont. Valmont’s name came from Dangerous Liaisons because he was a particularly affectionate cat. Now we have two dogs Libby, short for liberty (she was a rescue) and Ellie.
I hear you on the sensitivity of pets having the same name as other family members. We had a cat in my childhood that my parents named Tia Maria. They named it after the liquor, but we had an Aunt Mary who hated cats and she wasn’t amused by the name.
My dog growing up was Finn- full name Fionn mac Cumhaill, after the Irish legend. My dad thought Finn was the absolute coolest name, but my mom refused to name a son Finn, so they settled on the dog. Of course, they ended up with 3 daughters anyways, but still. Finn also means “white”, and Finn was a white boxer.
Ziggy already had that name when I adopted him as a kitten, and I kept it because to me he just looks like a Ziggy. (See my avatar.) The family cat during my son’s childhood, which we got when he was 6 (she died only a couple of years ago) was named Purrl – he thought up the name and spelling himself. He now has a male cat named Vronsky.
Ziggy definitely responds to the sound of his name by turning his head or looking up – but will give the exact same response if I call him “Piggy” or “Wiggy.” Close enough, I guess.
Growing up my first dog was Winnie the 2nd (my mom’s childhood dog was Winnie the 1st.) Then we had Tasha, a standard poodle, Rebel, a Cairn terrier and Missy a mini schnauzer and Missy’s son Phineas. Guess what I was reading when he was born?
Cats were Omar Khayyam the 1st and OK the 2nd, then Herman and Scarlett.
I always had a cat until about 15 years ago. The first I got was Aja and then Maxwell (a girl cat.)
Ziggy definitely responds to the sound of his name by turning his head or looking up -- but will give the exact same response if I call him "Piggy" or "Wiggy." Close enough, I guess.<<<
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Works for me too!
My beloved but deceased Beagle was named Trinity. Not based on the river or the atomic bomb.
@DonnaL, great minds think alike. A friend of mine years ago had a cat named Purrl. She was a dainty white cat with some mother-or-pearl shading on her head.
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I had a stray cat I rescued for a while. I always felt that she had a name, I just didn’t know what it was. I called her Miss Kitty, after Gunsmoke.
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We found an orange cat in our garage during a short stretch of very cold days…she wouldn’t leave. We had been keeping one garage door slightly open so our own cats could go in and out in the cold. I put out food and water when it was obvious that she intended to stay. She was obviously someone’s cat…declawed, etc… We put up fliers and we put an ad in the paper. No responses. We knew she had a name, but just started calling her Orange Kitty. She was blind but seemed to adjust well to our household. She’d sit on the front porch during the day, sunning herself, and come inside at night.
Nine months later there was a knock on the door from a woman I knew from church. She lived several blocks away, but was jogging on our street. She asked if the cat on our porch was ours. I told her the story and she said that it was her cat. She never saw the newspaper ad or the flyers we put up. We were so glad that Gator (the real name) found her way home. The lady said that Gator got lost after a rain storm, and likely couldn’t smell her way back. We loved Orange Kitty, but knew she needed to be with her momma. We’d visit Gator every so often. The lady called us a few years later to let us know that Gator was very sick, so we could come and say, good bye.
Orange Kitty was the only cat that my dad ever liked. When my parents visited, he let her sleep on their bed with them.
My next cat will likely be an orange tabby named Tangerine and we’ll call her Tango for short.
When we were really small, my mom got us one of those dimestore turtles. My then-2-year-old brother, who was potty training at the time, named him Underpants.
My first cat ever was Kittikins. Second was Kitty Kat. Oh brother, wasn’t I creative?
Our first family cat was Max. We all put a name in the hat and drew.
She never saw the newspaper ad or the flyers we put up. We were so glad that Gator (the real name) found her way home. The lady said that Gator got lost after a rain storm, and likely couldn’t smell her way back. We loved Orange Kitty, but knew she needed to be with her momma. We’d visit Gator every so often. The lady called us a few years later to let us know that Gator was very sick, so we could come and say, good bye.