When Bella ran away, we told Hazel she must've found a husband kitty and moved away with him (not that she was eaten by an owl, run over by a car, or simply didn't like us enough to stick around). This appeased her for a good while, but not forever.
"Mom, since Bella ran away, can we get a new kitty?"
This conversation happened for too many 'sometimes' and eventually (yesterday), my mom showed up with a new kitty for us.
"What will you name her?" My mom asked Hazel.
"I thought a good name for a white kitty would be Kaycee, but there weren't any white ones."
"Well Kaycee is still a good name for this one."
So, Kaycee it was. (I know how to spell it--after Kaycee in Kindergarten.)
But today, our second day with Kaycee, Hazel had second thoughts.
"Mom, I thought Kaycee was a good name, but I really want to change it to something else."
"Maybe Love Bells or something?"
[I'm sorry, reader, did you catch that? Love Bells.]
We have a cat named Love Bells. Or Lovebells (there were no LoveBells in Kindergarten--no spelling reference).
I bet you don't have a cat named Lovebells.