Goodbye, Harley Quinn: The Fierce, Funny Calico Who Loved on Her Own Terms

In October 2009, a flyer on a clinic corkboard caught someone’s eye. It showed a green-eyed calico—a tiny storm of orange, black, and white.

She was called Sophie, but when she came home, it became clear she was something else entirely. Mischievous, beautiful, wild. Harley Quinn suited her far better.

And just like her namesake, Harley was a force of nature. A stealthy stalker with a flair for surprise attacks, she’d pounce from under couches and around corners—especially if her target was her human mom. Eventually, a bell was added to her collar, not to stop the chaos but to give it a soundtrack.

Harley’s personality only grew louder with time. She didn’t follow the usual rules of cat behavior. What should’ve scared her only fascinated her.

Plastic, especially, was her obsession. Late at night, while the house slept, the rustle of a bag in her mouth would trigger a mad dash—and if she were caught, she’d shoot you a death glare like you were the problem.

She was fierce, funny, and sometimes infuriating. But she was loved for every inch of it.

Harley’s sharpness softened when little Ashlyn entered her world at just three years old. The claws that used to swipe paused in mid-air. The growls turned to gentle purrs. Harley chose Ashlyn quickly, curling beside her, watching over her, letting her in.

But love with Harley was always on her terms. She wasn’t the snuggly type—unless it was exactly how and where she wanted. Ears, temples, thighs, maybe the neck. Anything else was off-limits. Cuddling was an event that happened rarely and briefly—until the very end.

Diagnosed with pancreatitis, Harley began to slow down. Then, something changed. She sought out her human not for food or play—but for closeness. She nestled in arms. She stayed. For the first time, she wanted the comfort of being held.

It was a gift. A quiet thank you. A soft goodbye.

Harley Quinn may have only spent a short time in our world, but she spent her entire world with her chosen family. She gave them laughter, challenge, mischief, and eventually—cuddles. She gave them herself.

And now, though her bell no longer jingles down the hall, the music of her love still lingers.

She was chaos, she was comfort, and she was theirs. Forever.