By the end of the week, the town had its own version.
My enormous wild cat had guarded the house.
He had ambushed three burglars.
He had known exactly what they were doing.
At the hardware store, a man asked whether I planned to put up a warning sign.
Someone else wanted to come over and see him.
“No,” I said.
The answer came out more sharply than I intended.
I wasn’t embarrassed by Gus.
I couldn’t bear the thought of people knocking on the windows, hoping to see something fierce.
They had heard about a frightening animal.
I had come home to a frightened one.
For several nights after the break-in, he wouldn’t sleep in the closet.
He would approach it, stop, and turn away.
I replaced the broken lamp and set the furniture back where it belonged. I had the front door repaired and the lock replaced.
