"Let's get you in my truck." She inserted her hands beneath my stomach, and lifted me to my feet. With her supporting both my sides, I was able to walk in a staggering fashion. She directed me towards the grass lining the land side of the beach, then down a dusty line of boards scattered over the sandy weeds. A few other humans were out walking, and some gave the woman nods and smiles. While several females tried to start up a conversation, she seemed intent on getting me somewhere, and replied to their salutations curtly, but not rudely.

I assumed. Maybe I was reading too much into facial expressions. But they had such expressive mouths. I was used to tiny lip twitches and subtle adjustments of ear positions having deep meaning, but these humans made all sorts of extreme movements with their faces. How primitive. They clearly possessed none of the sophistication of our communication.

The boardwalk ended at a large, roughly square mass of black material. 'Asphalt,' I believe the humans called it. Whatever it was, it was hot against my pawpads, even though the sun had only been up a few hours. The woman steered me towards a large, red vehicle, which sat in a neat little 'u' of white lines marked upon the asphalt. While I was curious about the ships the humans propelled themselves about in, a man standing on the edge of the asphalt caught my eye. He was staring at my human. Not just a quick glance. A hard, cold, long look.

Something about his fixed gaze sent warning signals up and down my spine. A snarl escaped my lips, and I broke free from the woman's grasp, intending to run and tear out his throat. Unfortunately, I tripped over my own paws and fell onto the pavement, about sixteen yards too far away.

Bah, stupid short legs! Running on all fours was not as easy as it looked. The woman was at my side immediately, murmuring to me and lifting me back up. When I raised my head, the man was gone.

My human mumbled something to me, guiding me back towards her vehicle. She yanked open some kind of port in its side, and gestured into it. An invitation? Carefully, I placed my paws on its lower frame and managed to get my body inside and onto the soft seat. The interior smelled strongly of cinnamon, and I wrinkled my keen nose.

Did humans have no senses of smell? How did they live around such powerful odors? I pictured their nasal receptors being torn apart slowly by tiny bits of fragrance, shuddering. It must be a time-consuming process.

The woman kindly tucked my tail inside with me and shut the door. She hopped in on the other side, and the vehicle started with a grumble. Despite its hacking, deathly sounds, it exited the asphalt onto a strip of the same material at a pretty good clip. I looked out the window with interest.

Other vehicles whizzed past us, their sizes and shapes different, but mostly regular. Some were following us along our little lane, and some were going the opposite direction along the other side of the strip. So this was a road. It stretched far, far ahead of us, splitting repeatedly and winding through the sea of buildings like a hydra.

I...was a little disturbed. Yrahtians did not have vehicles for personal transport, instead, we often relied upon our planet's wealth of large, tameable animals. Could it be that humans were more advanced in that area than we were?

No. I pushed the thought from my mind, my ears flattening to my head. What a ridiculous notion. We were superior to the humans in every way. Every way.

The woman seemed to notice my distraction. She took a hand from the wheel that was apparently used to steer the vehicle, and patted my head comfortingly. It was an improper gesture, but I let it slide. 

"You're pretty calm, sweetheart. Most strays really hate cars," she said, turning her eyes back to the road. 

Although I had spent only a few hours in her company, I was beginning to be able to pick out individual words from the stream of noises. Now I would have to try to apply meanings to the words I heard frequently. 

The woman activated a strange clicking device, and then swung the vehicle onto a different road. We appeared to be leaving the area where the humans went to do business, and entering a more residental area. House after house lined the street, their yards flat and filled with palm trees and scrubby bushes. A few human whelps frolicked and screamed near their homes.

Then I saw it. A smaller, four-legged creature was waddling about in one of the yards, a collar buckled about its thick neck. While it did not possess my athletic body, or my luscious coat of fur, it was undeniably like me. It was a dog. I was like that thing? I was the same species as that fat, hideous beast?

Fury gripped my heart, and I turned from the window, curling up on the seat and watching the woman instead.

The obnoxious ticking flared up again, and the woman steered the vehicle onto the strip of concrete next to a small house. She did something to the craft, killing it instantly, and then opened the door. She hopped out. Coming over to my side, she helped me out.