I heard the rattling around in the garage around five pm or so. I wasn’t sure what could possibly be in there causing such a commotion, but I wasn’t eager to find out. Afraid, cautious, apprehensive these are all words that fit nicely in a description of my feelings about cracking open the garage door and peeking in to see what was making the ruckus. Thoughts of rabid raccoons and venomous anacondas rolled through my head keeping my palms sweaty and my skin bumpy.

Both Liam and Bryce were right by my side, they were less fearful and more curious to see the noise maker than I—kids, they just don’t get it sometimes.

I swallowed my fear and gripped the shiny brass knob that represented safety from madness. It slipped ever so slightly in my wet grip, but it turned. The latch released allowing me to carefully peek inside the garage towards the truck and the noise, through the sliver of door and doorjamb my eyes widened in surprise then further in horror, quickly I slammed the door and fumbled on the lousy interior door lock, twisting it with my sweaty fingers, time was fleeting.

Spinning around I grabbed both the boys by their underarms lifting and running. Where’s Amy I thought as I panicked and rushed the boys into the guest bath and instructed them too gruffly to hide in the tub, they weren’t upset or crying, no questions, what’s going on I thought.

Then I heard the scratching, it was on the bathroom door, hard and grating I could literally hear the splinters peeling away from the shoddy paint job. Still, the boys were calm and smiling, as if this were a game or they knew something I didn’t.

With a loud crack and explosion of wood and cork the door burst inward and the Mountain Lion was inside. I shouted at the boys to stay still, “Don’t Move” I screamed, the Lion glanced at me and then approached the boys in the tub. I was crying, my fear had welled up and burst from me in streams. This lion is going to kill my boys! I leaped over it and ran to the kitchen where I knew we had some fresh beef, Amy’d just brought home, I grabbed it—all of it—and ran back to the bathroom, the Lion was smelling the boys, but they were staying perfectly still—still smiling. I threw some of the steak at the Lion to grab it’s attention, it worked!

He began to follow my lead out of the bathroom into the living room, across to the dining room and then out onto the deck, he wanted that steak. When I was about to throw the raw meat out into the yard and make a break for it, back into the house I had a thought, a single thought and it was terrible… “Amy is going to kill me for wasting this steak” How could I possibly think that? I used it to save the kids, It wasn’t wasted. At last my alarm rang and I said out loud “Thank God” as I sprang out of bed and headed for the bathroom.