Well, some folks did not heed our warnings. Some did. Female cats were glued to windows and doors, yowling all night long to be let out. Toms stayed on laps, grooming themselves with a detached coolness, yet every little noise from beyond the walls startled them to alertness.

In the dark, a sinister shadow passed over our doors, stalking after anyone who would give it a fight.

Perhaps we are building this cat up too much. I mean it’s just a cat. Any of us are bigger than it. More clever. Certainly more dangerous. We’ve been to the moon, for Pete’s sake.

It’s a funny thing how a whole town can be made to cower by a single deranged animal. A single bee or spider can send some folks into a tizzy, and at least one person in town (we aren’t naming names) still objects vehemently and passionately to our town having chosen the Malaysian Flying Fox as the town mascot. I mean, really, really hates it, but they still grit their teeth and smile. They just don’t look directly at any official city letterhead.

The mangled remains of a badger were found on the Amundsen front porch. We are unsure whether it was intended as a gift, a threat, or a warning.

We asked Chief Wells for her take, and she said “Unless that thing commits a crime more serious than Misdemeanor Terrifying, I’m not going anywhere near it. Maybe it can clear up our vermin problem. You people are making a mountain out-”

She broke off, as we heard a heavy clawing sound in the walls. Neither of us breathed in for almost a minute.

“It’s a twenty-five pound bag of-”

A muffled snarling could be heard for several minutes.

The police have no further comments on the matter at this time.

We reached out the the County, and Sheriff Marie Wells had this to say: “Hahaha, whoah, no. Nonono, whoo, Lola can deal with that. Jurisdiction. Nope, not mine, you can keep it!”