I named my gerbil Smith because it’s my mother’s maiden name. Let me introduce you to my rabbit, 329-06-2789. I named him that so I wouldn’t forget my social security number.
Very often, guinea pigs are named after food. Our two rescues came with food names. However, everything eats guinea pigs and I feel it's wrong to name them after food. We changed their names.
We named them after two characters from Downton Abbey: Daisy and Rose. Plants are the only living things that fear guinea pigs, so they are nice, powerful names for them.
Our cat Sybil was also named after Downton Abbey! If you've ever seen the show Keeping Up Appearances, two of the sisters are named Daisy and Rose as well.
We don't have pets but our neighbour has two cats and they are the bane of my existence. Yowling at the door even though we've never fed the little bastards, and scaring the birds away as they like to shake the branches of our tree.
As a result, we call the grey one "that little shit", and the dotted one "that little cunt". The names have stuck in our household, and we have to watch ourselves when we trade pleasantries with the neighbours.
When he was a tiny stray kitten, he ran under a shed to hide from me. He thought he was safe but his back feet were still sticking out. I grabbed him by his toes and now his name is Toes.
I always choose based on personality, or let them choose for themselves if they're especially chatty.
Some examples:
Screech, male cat, got him after weaning and the only things he could vocalise were variations of screeches. So, Screech. Also worked well with the fact that he had a full black coat, so you'd always hear him first.
Mimi, female cat. Found by one of my former coworkers next to an apartment building stairway, asked her what she'd like to be called. She said: "meeee..." in the cutest, squeakiest way imaginable. I asked and what else. "Meeee..." again, so that was that. She ended up earning it, she was exuberantly inquisitive and playful.
Maia, female cat. It was the most feminine name to also have a sort of benevolent but tired aristocratic aloofness. She was always bothered by your unrequested presence, always complaining with a bored chain smoker's croon of "mmmmaaawwwww..." She also obsessively groomed every living thing she had in her proximity, including a chicken (the only one dumb enough to not run away) and a hamster.
Lord, male dog. He was fucking majestic, looked like a miniature lion with black, white and copper stripes (about as large as a Golden Retriever). And he owned that name, always lording over the place. Ironically, got poisoned by an envious neighbor (I'm serious).
Ralph, the (happy) exception, male dog. So, this guy, had been my brother since I turned 10. First time I met him, he was slobbering. And he was a German Shepherd / Alsacian mix, these guys don't usually drool a lot afaik. But my guy was dripping. So, naturally, I wanted to call him Spit. I mean... naturally! Luckily, mum intervened with this one and declared him Ralph, because it was the friendliest* German name she could think of at the time. And he wore it well, he was always vivacious, but calculated.
Thank you! Yeah, it hit us pretty badly... Well, to be fair, every loss wrecked us, because we never treated pets as pets, but as family members, but that was the first death I ever experienced in my life. Taught me a very valuable (although unfortunate) lesson about human beings, too...
In december last year I had to put down my 15y/o dog, named Santino. He was a little stupid and couldn't keep still, so I named him after the guy from The Godfather (a bit grim I know). I also have two cats, a three color grump called Hollie (named after Billie Holiday) and a tuxedo lovable fuzzball called Louie (named after Louie Armstrong).
Edit: Oh, I almost forgot. I also had a kitten (who died of complications from being weaned off too early) called Curie.
I've got two for a pair of cats we adopted at the same time.
First was Stusy (pronounced stu-c). He was named after a typo. My partner and I were planning a move and I accidentally misspelled study. We looked at it and decided it was a good cat name, which it was. He was the smartest cat we ever had. He died a couple years ago too young from what the vet said was likely genetic kidney problems.
His brother, our scaredy cat, is Big O. At the cattery (our name for the local cat adoption place), he was the one that wanted nothing to do with us and so we clearly had to adopt him. Every time we pet him he vigorously cleaned that spot. I don't remember what we were going to name him. The cattery named him Big O after the tire place where he was found. He was driven from one small town in Indiana to another, about 50 miles, before he was found in the engine compartment of someone's car who stopped at Big O to check the meowing from the engine. He was Stusy's best friend and while he's still easy to startle, he lets us pet him in controlled conditions (usually us lying down and holding very still) and is the goofiest of his siblings when they're playing.
I had a dog for 20 years. We called him Git, because when we tried to chase him off he would just come to us instead. He was the best stray mutt a kid could ask for.
Yes we have yet a other dog, the oldest one, 12yo. She come from the shelter her name is Giada (Jade). We never changed it. Funny how that's also a commonish human name and has been hilarious sometimes in the past in crowded places...
We also have a other dog... We got her as an adult which had to be taken away from her previous home. She is called Bianca, guess by the looks of her being similar to the other famous Bianca.
Our kitty shelter named our first of two cats (sadly now passed away) Thomas. So we named our second cat (which the shelter named Vesta which I found weird) to Nikola. They were generally pretty chill towards one another unlike their namesakes.
I wonder if this makes sense to anybody else? We have a black and white, German Wirehaired Pointer. His full name is: Spruce Creek Livewire Ace of Spades. We call him Lemmy.
I found Pliny frozen in my garage at like maybe 2 weeks old. (Door had blown open somehow) Thought he was dead until he moved his eye right as I was tossing him in a trash can. Had to bottle feed him and he was super sick, so I didn’t think he’d make it. Didn’t name him, just called him Tiny. Once he recovered and it was clear that he owned me, I started calling him Pliny because it sounded kind of like Tiny and was a beer that I really enjoyed at the time. He’s still super small 12 years later, so I think he was left behind because he was the runt. Or being frozen stunted his growth.