“Cougar,” I said, but my voice failed. “Cougar.” I was two years old again, stating a single word, but meaning so much more. I tensed my shoulders, sat, and pulled my feet onto the couch as if getting my feet off the floor would save me.

“You hungry, Looney Tunes?” Tracy said, tossing the cougar an empty water bottle. She pounced on it, sending it shooting against the wall. She crouched, suspicious of the bottle, then pounced again, this time catching it.

“You stole the baby?” I said. “You stole Luna?”

Tracy Summers grabbed a baby bottle from behind his chair, added a scoop of baby formula, and shook it. Liquid shot out of the hole in the nipple, caught him on the face.

“Naw, I didn’t steal her. I was out for two days searching for her, worried a hawk would nab her. Chrissy wasn’t out there searching; she was at home sulking,” he said, a gossipy lilt to his voice. He held the bottle near the floor, wiggled it. “You were hungry, weren’t you, my beautiful baby?” he cooed without self-awareness, his voice oscillating, like he was talking to his own baby. “Come here, Looney Tunes.” The cougar perked its head up, spotted the bottle, and pranced over. Tracy aimed the nipple down. The cougar pawed at it, chewed on it, and started suckling. Tracy scooped the cougar into his arms and held it on its back, cradling it like a baby. If I wasn’t so terrified, if I wasn’t so morally bound against exotic animals as pets, I would have crept over to pet the cougar, rub my thumb over its furry paws.

“You can’t keep a cougar in your house.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “I ain’t giving her back to Chrissy though, you can bet on that. She had her how long before she lost her? Naw, I’ll bring her over to the zoo in Milwaukee. Couple more days.” The way he said it though, with such longing, days might stretch into weeks. He wanted to keep her.

“If you keep her, she will kill your dog. On purpose.” I said it because he needed to hear it. Tracy might be a person who didn’t care if a baby cougar killed him or another person, but he did care if it killed his dog.

“I know that’s a risk, I do, but you should see how they cuddle.” He looked at me and laughed. “I’m not keeping her. I’m not. Hey, where’s your little one?” he said flatly, no judgment.

I panicked. Where was Emily? I had a daughter. Since the day she was born I was responsible for knowing where she was. My nerves settled. Visha. She’s with Visha.

“With a friend.” Oh, no. What time was it? I was supposed to pick up Emily early. “Where’s my phone?” I stood.