T.S. Elliot was onto something in his Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, though I think Andrew Lloyd Webber took it to annoying lengths in Cats. Still, it gives an entree into a discussion of naming cats.
The neighbors have a cute little cat that is probably a kind of bengal. He is orange and white, but it's in a swirl pattern. When we thought he was a little stray and we wanted to lure him into our house, we called him Scribbles or Cinnabon. Those names seemed to make sense, given his pattern. You know what his owners named him? Ralphie. What the? That cat is not a Ralphie. But anyway.
When we were thinking that we were getting a Russian Blue, we threw around several names (because we were not going to stay with the name Seymour). Boris Badinov? Koshka? Finally, we decided on Oslo (because we love that city) (my last name)-ovich (his last name)-ovski. That was an awesome name, if I do say so myself.
We just couldn't fit that name to Oliver. Oliver was the name he had at the Humane Society, and it just seemed to fit him. It made us think of Richard Hammond's little car that he drove across South Africa, so we added the last name Hammond. He is officially Mr. Oliver Hammond. I had to giggle when the vet's office left a voicemail saying that they were calling to remind that Mr. Oliver Hammond had an appointment.
His nicknames are Oliver and (less-often), Hamster. We also call him PsychoKitty and Weirdo, because he does those kooky cat things.