My cat of the last 8 years was a stray. I met him my first year in college, in Orlando. I had finished with my midterms and felt really good about them, so I was sitting on the stoop of my apartment's front door looking out across the parking lot. As a little celebration I was smoking one of the Cohibas my grandfather got me for Christmas. They weren't cheap, so I only had one on special occaisions. I was only sat down for about five minutes when a kitten wandered up. He was spotted in black and white, looking like a little Holstein cow. He let me pet him for a bit, then he climbed my lap and tried to eat the cigar.
I asked him what his name was. I figured he would know, after all. So I went with the next noise he made: Squee.