House on Fire

★ ★ ★ 1/2 (rounded up)
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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I should have checked in with Patty weeks ago. I guess I was figuring that if [Sean] was back on drugs, she'd let me know. I obviously figured wrong. I was angry at myself for not staying more closely in touch.

He saved my life once; I should have been able to save his.

and released it anyway

* Sure, another company's product probably would've done the same thing to Sean, but Kimball Pharmaceutical held this particular gun.

She tilted her head and smiled. “You went after this bomber?”

I nodded.

“Yes, of course you did,” she said. “You are sheepdog.”

“I'm a Sheepdog,” I said dubiously.

“I read somewhere there are three kinds people—is sheep, is wolves, and is sheepdog. Most people sheep—just kind and gentle people. They never hurt others, except by accident. Then there is predators—the wolves. They prey on weak people. They feed on sheep. These are the bad people.”

“Okay.”

“And then is Sheepdogs. They protect flock. They have drive to do this. They have gift of aggression.”

I nodded.

She said, “You are not sheep. You are not wolf. You are sheepdog. You are guard dog, not attack dog.”

House on Fire