A childhood belief about people

I lived in a northern town in British Columbia where our family of 5 children used to run wild all day just coming in for meals. I was about 3/4 years old and came across the neighbour's cat lying in a field blown apart by a shotgun. I went home and told my mother and she said that Mr. McGregor (yes he really was called that!) had shot the cat because he was sick. About a week later I was in bed with a high fever. My mother was stroking my forehead, saying, "Poor Sandy, Sandy's sick". I immediately asked if my dad "was gonna shot me?"