Grandpa and I were out on the back porch, spending our evenings as we often did.

When I asked about a weird story my parents had used to scare me as a kid.

There's some kind of monster cat that would eat me if I was bad, I said.

Swirling my beer around thoughtfully as I tried to remember what it was called.

I used to live in fear of it since mom said it would eat me if I didn't finish my chores.

It was the whooping cat?

The whooping cat?

The whooping cat.

My grandpa said, draining his beer and launching it into the tree line like you often did.

That's the one.

And thought about it years until last night.

Dreamed that I was small again, wandering around your house, looking for people.

I never really saw him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see this big, shadowy creature stalking me.

He kinda reminded me of one of those guys in a mascot costume.

I never got a good look at it, it was hiding, but I remember being pretty scared as he

followed me around the house.

Maybe this kind of sound like a house cat.

But loud, big, you know, like a cat that's been startled, it's about to fight.

Suddenly grandpa loosed a cry like a scalded cat.

I heard all the animal noise around us taper off.

He looked back and asked, sound like that?

...