This just in. Apparently there are no reports of personal space. Hurricane Xera touched down and nothing is sacred. If you refuse to give Xera a treat, she will stare at you with these eyes. If I put on my shoes she will touch down at the front door with no remorse towards my daily errands as they must include her. The bank needs to stop handing out treats, because I do not know the ingredients, but that doesn’t stop her from chomping. “Dad, did you know, the neighbors peaches are dropping off the trees like cicada’s every 7 years. We must go retrieve these now? “Also, I’m going through my first heat and I want to make sure I stamp my scent every 15 feet so I can tell all the boys in the neighborhood we’re having a kegger next Wednesday.” “Roll over King Charles, there’s a new queen in the house…and I will Game of Thrones your ass faster than the mother of dragons. I’m only 7 months old as of today and I’m 70 lbs of confidence to ensure you insure others so I keep getting that tasty food that makes my coat so pretty!”