Hey folks I'm new to the Lounge and I don't feel like reading the whole thread yet. Here's a short story about the cat previously known as Merlin:
Back in 2006 or so, I was living on the south side of Brockton MA just a stone's throw away from Main St. My girlfriend's brother's girlfriend's cat had a semi wild littler of kittens underneath their house a few miles away from where I was living. The man of the house happened to hate cats for some unknown stupid reason. He warned his daughter that he was going to kill them.
The next day, I was introduced to Merlin the kitten and he was welcomed into the house as the newest member of my extended family. He grew quickly and immediately showed a great sense of friendliness and affection for humans.
Then we got kicked out of the house and got a third floor apartment about 1/2 mile away from Brockton High. Merlin came with us in addition to Chloe. Chloe was a gift to my girlfriend a few years prior, but this isn't about Chloe. I digress.
Things went quite smoothly in the new apartment, for about 48 hours!
Then it became apparent that the deal struck between my girlfriend and our roommate, which involved his regular cleaning of the litter box and her daily dose of washing all of the dishes, was not being honored. It was a stand off. She refused to do any dishes until he cleaned the litter box, while he refused to clean the litter box until she did the dishes.
During this stand off, we were hanging out in the living room. Merlin was sitting on the roommate's lap and I said, "his name doesn't fit. Let's call him something else." "Like what?" she asked. "I think we should call him Rocky after the great boxer Rocky Marciano." They didn't like that suggestion and apparently Merlin was uninterested as he didn't flinch or respond when I looked at him and said "hey Rocky." Then I thought about it. The logical and correct name popped into my head. The cat formerly known as Merlin was no wizard, but instead he was one of the friendliest cats I had ever met in my life. So I said, "Let's call him Buddy." I looked him in the eyes and asked "do you like that name, Buddy?" He looked directly into my eyes, meowed loudly, and came over and sat on my lap immediately. He has been known as Buddy ever since that day.
A few months later, after I had left the disgusting situation in which I found myself, I was living in the next town over in an apartment by myself. I got the dreaded call from the ex: "I got kicked out and have nowhere to go." So I agreed that she could stay with me for a while. Well to make a very long story short, it didn't work out peacefully. I had to tell her to get lost and that I wanted Buddy, who had grown into a rather large cat by that time. I still joke that his daddy must have been the king of the strays. She agreed, then she left after some more yelling and screaming and fighting and cursing, leaving Buddy with me.
I've had him ever since. Now he's about 11 years old and still friendly as ever.