Gary was originally named Angel after the drag queen character in the musical Rent. The name worked well on him since the other cat in our house was named Mimi (another character from Rent) and we originally thought that he was a girl. He was actually a girl for about 2 weeks, until he was sitting on my lap and I felt something wet on my arm. Yes...it was a little kitty hard-on. I was so freaked out that I called Adam at work...he just laughed and said, "Well, I guess she's a boy."
What did I expect him to say?
Angel became Gary about 2 years later when I moved back to St. Louis from Charlotte and he moved in with Seth, Laura, and Logan (he couldn't live with me because my mom is allergic). He would drive them crazy by meowing all of the time (I'm still sorry about that, guys). The meowing confused Logan, though. Any time he heard it, he'd say, "Gary?!? Gary!"
The only meowing he was familiar with was Spongebob Squarepants' pet snail, Gary. For some reason, the snail meows. I don't know...I can't explain it. It's a cartoon and I didn't write it. Whatever.
When I was moving back to Charlotte, Gary was so freaked out. I let him out of his cat carrier and he pooped on me...needless to say, I was not pleased. I called Adam to find a no kill shelter, because I was about to lose my mind with this meowing, pooping cat. He told me that I would feel so bad if I just let him go and that I should stay as calm as possible and just try my best to make it to Charlotte. So that's what I did.
I'm not going to lie...while I lived with Adam in our church apartment, I felt a little detached from the little booger. I thought he was the one picking fights with Mimi and he drove me nuts. After I moved into my new place I learned something. HE was the calm one the whole time and Mimi was the one that must have been causing the fights. He is the most loving (and surprisingly quiet) kitty ever.
I would sometimes "joke" (I'm not quite sure if I was kidding or not) that someone should just leave my front door open so that he could escape. I just recently realized how upset I would be if he actually was gone. Sam had come over with Jim to bring the couch (the first time) while I was at work. I knew this and as I was pulling in my parking lot, I saw a black cat that looked exactly like Gary running away. I ran in the house screaming his name. I was certain that he had gotten away. After about 30 seconds of terror, he came around the corner and rubbed up against my leg like, "What's up??"
Oh...I love my stupid cat and I'm thankful (yup, there's that word again) that he didn't run away. I'm thankful that we have our routine down now. He'll wait patiently outside my bedroom door every morning until I can feed him. He'll always be on top of the kitchen cabinet when I get home from work. And every Sunday while we're watching a movie, he'll walk from Chris' lap, over mine, over to Julie and then back to Chris' again to find his spot, which actually confirms my suspicions that I have a gay kitty on my hands (and C is a nice enough guy to not break it to the poor little guy that he's straight and not into gay little kitties...not that there's anything wrong with that...).
I was actually watching him just now, all sweet and curled up beside me on the couch and he woke up to start licking his balls (or lack thereof)...classy, Gary, real classy....