Challenge #00376 - A011: Unconventional.

Dogs on an interplanetary space station. What could possibly go wrong?

[AN: Here’s one I did earlier… But I presume you mean non-augments, so…]

The galactic community were just barely getting used to humans. There were large numbers of cogniscents who tended to run and hide when they spotted even a small one. Luckily, many humans did not view this as an insult and, in fact, some found it amusing.

The galactic community were also barely accustomed to human pets. Though the idea of farming was not novel, nor was the idea of training an animal to assist in assorted tasks… the very concept of keeping a non-cogniscent animal around for company was new.

Many approved of cats.

Cats demanded respect. They were low maintenance and useful and, surprisingly, the humans had developed a low-to-no-shedding variety before they developed commercial spaceflight. That, and they had no qualms about showing anyone stupid enough to try and hunt them why that was a very bad idea indeed.

But whatever this human had on the end of the brightly-coloured webbing was not a cat. It was configured slightly like a cat, in that it had four legs, fur, whiskers and a tail… beyond that, description failed.

It was black, and breathed very rapidly. The end that dipped up and down had to be the head, because a pink tongue frequently escaped to dangle and dribble in the open air. The tail did not swing lazily about as if drifting on its own air currents, but swept rapidly back and forth, creating its own.

It did not slink. It bounced.

It did not meow. It barked.

It did not discretely seek soil to enrich. It peed on everything that crossed its path.

And it was Kiz'ard'l’s job to clear it for station habitation. “There is something wrong with your cat,” she began.

“That’s a dog,” corrected the human. Ze picked the creature up and placed it carefully on the counter. “Sit.”

The dog settled its rear down, tail still oscillating.

There were twin dark, twinkling orbs in the mess of fur on what had to be its head. They seemed to have a secondary functionality compared with its perpetually sniffing nose.

Kiz'ard'l let it sniff her before proceeding with a cursory examination. Quadrupedal, of course. The tail seemed to be in a state of permanent movement. She checked the teeth. “Carnivorous,” she noted.

“Mostly,” added the human. “It’s never a good idea to give a dog too much people food. Even though they love it.”

“Predatory?” enquired Kiz'ard'l.

“He’s a Scottie. They were bred to hunt rats.”

“You said he is a dog.”

Sigh. The human had been through this before. “Species, dog. Canis Lupus Familiaris. Sub-breed, Scottie. Name, Toto.”

The ears, then the head, swivelled towards his owner, who absently scratched the animal’s head.

“Dangerous?” asked Kiz'ard'l. It paid to ask that of humans.

“Hmmmmn… Mostly harmless. You don’t have any cogniscent rats, right?”

And for a human, ‘mostly harmless’ translated out as 'venomous, nigh venomous, toxic, poisonous or otherwise savage’. She’d heard the one about the human with the snake who kept giving hir “love bites”… that would kill or cripple any other cogniscent species on that station.

“I require a safe demonstration of its hunting techniques.”

There was a sheer, metal tub for such things. And a sacrificial supply of pest-lizards. Once the lizards were released in the same environment as the dog… it was a gory, grousome slaughter filled with growls and the cheering of the human.

“Good boy,” cooed the human, recovering zir pet predator into their arms. “Oooza goo’ boy den? Ooooza goooooood boy…”

Humans…

They may be profitable to have around, but they had some damn disturbing habits.

“You’re going to keep that thing restrained at all times in all public areas unless under specific request.”

The human rolled zir eyes as ze saluted. “Yes, ma'am.” And then felt compelled to add, “He’s a real softie, most of the time.”

Translation: it will eat you in your sleep. “Move along, please.”

Another smiling human with what appeared to be a small ungulate on another brightly-coloured webbing chain to its human’s wrist.

“Cat?” Kiz'ard'l said hopefully.

“Pig,” said the human.

This was going to be a very long day.

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