When my wife and I first married, at the first house we rented were two cats that hung around the back yard. One was a kind of greasy looking but cute ragdoll cat we called "BP" (because she looked like she had been through an oil spill) and this other one that had a green collar on (which we called "Al Gore" because of the green-collar jobs thing; but the collar disappeared shortly after). One day BP just walks into our house and hops in a random basket on the ground. Later, I'm napping on the couch and am awoken to Al asleep on my chest. For close to a year these cats came in and out of our house. We figured that BP might've been a stray, but since Al had a collar we figured he was someone's. But we never saw them in any other neighbor yard and so we kept putting out food for them.

Then one day I'm in the back yard and I see Al on the other side of my neighbor's fence. And I hear him, a kind of rough looking working man type, go "LESTER?! IS THAT YOU?! WHERE'VE YOU BEEN?!" The neighbor legit thought the cats had run off. He had no idea that they'd basically adopted us. We became buddies after that. I loved those dumb cats.