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I inherited the names of my last two boys.
Dylan was a name I'd have been tempted to give anyway, but it was one the breeder suggested I might want to change. He was under a year old and she usually called him Twinkle.
Diz was Dizney.
Oh no, no, no.
Diz he became. Diz he remains.
I will elongate his name to The Diz-cat and far more silly ones I won't admit to. And my nephew calls him Dizzy. But that's as far as it goes.
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