Harley

A year ago we adopted a cat, tiny in stature but bursting with personality.  I named her Harley for her loud rumbling purr and her badass personality.  Her long black fur might as well be leather, she's that tough.

Harley fears nothing.  Not other cats, not dogs, not even that terror of felines everywhere - vacuum cleaners.  We usually introduce a new cat to our menagerie gradually.  Not Harley, not after she walked up to T.C., the CAT IN CHARGE who is twice her size, got the flat-eared hiss that melts cats and dogs in their tracks, and sat down with a look that said, "Is that all you got?"  After that, making herself part of the family was a piece of cake.

Today we had new carpeting put in.  Three men moved the furniture, ripped out old carpet, installed new, and vacuumed afterward.  Much clomping around and noise-making.  All the cats hid in terror - except Harley, who thought it was THE BEST DAY EVER!  New people and new activity in every room!  The best part was the furniture that got piled in the family room, kitchen, and master bedroom while the other rooms were done.  Everything had to be climbed on and crawled under, because everyone knows if you move the living room couch into the kitchen you're going to get an entirely new view from the back.  She tried it all, in between helping lay the carpet.