This is Bernie. While she also came with this name, the only reason I didn't change it is that it took me so long to gain her trust -- it would have been cruel to throw in a curve ball. She is a complex, wild and wonderful thing - both shy and rapturous, timid and wolf-like. It all depends on the situation. Inside, she bows to Scrappy, both cats and me. Outside, she leaps, digs, wags, and trots. She lunges after cars, trucks, squirrels, coyotes, birds, leaves, grass - you get the picture. But put one teeny tiny bit of thunder in her way, and it's u-turn to home and under the bed until it's clear. That also goes for planes, guns, sudden moves, hard breathing, a fire in the fireplace -- the list goes on. She's had a hard life, this girl, and, 'tho she has it cushy now, old terrors lie just beneath the surface. Bernie is of an undetermined 'older' age, but I have lumped her birthday in with Scrappy's. It makes me feel better thinking that she will live forever.