Knut looked at the gesticulating man with some hauteur. He was sitting on his own doorstep, and minding his own business, and, as far as he was concerned, the human needed to mind his business.
Missus came to the door, laughing, she bent to run her fingers through his ruff.
“D’you think the big man’s afraid of you?”
Knut let his tongue loll and thumped his tail.
In the end the man went away, and when Mister came home he was lavish in his praise.
“You protected well.”
Knut stuck out his chest. He loved Missus, and he was proud.
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