A lot of stray animals have gravitated to my mom's house over the last 12 or so years since she has lived in Las Vegas. The only ones that have stayed permanently are two dogs that live in the back yard, and the white cat in the front. We tried naming him several times, but no name would ever stick. Nothing sounded just right, so to this day we still call him "white cat" or of course, "kitty," which is slightly more endearing.
And even though the white cat proved to be a disturber rather than a friend to the indoor cat, Cleo, we never had the heart to get rid of him because he showed up about the same time that Jason did.
I had just graduated from BYU and had temporarily moved home. My husband-to-be started coming around shortly thereafter, and since he turned out to be such a great thing, it just seemed like bad form to get rid of the cat whose random arrival seemed to mystically coinside with that of Jason's.
Three and a half years later, Weston seems to have a pretty good friendship with the white cat. In fact, he is the only cat that doesn't run away in a mad fury when approached by Weston. I think it's kind of sweet!