Well, this is an interesting thread!

The day after my beloved Merlin went to the Bridge, I went to the vet's office to return some unused fluid. As I stood at the reception desk, in tears, the receptionist suddenly jumped up, said, "I have someone I want you to meet," and ran upstairs. She returned with a tuxedo kitten who was quite lively. Having just buried Merlin's body and having Morganna at home - I was obviously in a King Arthur mode and blurted out, "That's Mordred!" I had had no intention of adopting him, but once you name them. . . .

About a year later, as Merlin's first Bridgeday was approaching, I found a tiny white kitten who'd been dumped on a remote, unpaved mountain road and left to die. I brought her home, of course. Emailed a cyberfriend to tell her; she said she'd been praying that God would heal my heart, and the timing of this kitten was strange. Playing with the little one, the name "Althea" popped into my head - a name for which I had absolutely no context. I emailed the same friend, asking if she knew anything about the name. (Why I asked her that, I have no idea; it was just supposed to be part of the experience, I guess) She replied that it comes from a Greek word that means, among other things, "healer." With the them from Twilight Zone playing in my mind, I typed the name into my computer and found that Althea is another name for the shrub commonly known as rose of Sharon - and Sharon is my name! Any thoughts I had of rehoming the kitten were surrendered; it was obvious that the whole set of circumstances had set her up to be mine.

Blue was left at my barn, and I trapped him, not knowing his gender. The vet tech took him from the trap, checked, and said, "It's a little boy." "Little Boy Blue" popped into my head, and she needed a name for the record. . .so Little Boy Blue. He has since morphed into The Blue Dude or simply Dude.