I Was An Alien Cat Toy Read Online Free PDF

it the first couple of days, but it had made him vomit uncontrollably. The raw vegetables they’d tried next
    were almost worse, and Temin hadn’t been sure if he would die of food poisoning or starvation first. Finally
    they’d worked out he could eat cooked meat and vegetables, bread, some of the fruit and a kind of tasteless
    nut which wasn’t plentiful or appealing, but at least didn’t make him want to throw up. The problem was,
    they gave him too little of the nutritious stuff he could eat, and the rest was just watery stodge without much
    protein. He’d lost weight, he knew that—another reason he was in no position to make a run for it.
    He suddenly found a manageable piece of cooked, pale green vegetable shoved in front of his face,
    held on the knife the male was using for his own meal. Temin blinked up at his owner—was he supposed to
    eat it off the knife? The male was waiting patiently, no sign that he was irritated by Temin’s hesitation.
    Temin decided he didn’t quite have enough courage to put anything sensitive near the wicked looking blade,
    so he pulled the vegetable off the knife and held it in his hands. The male made a little chirrup when he did
    that—he didn’t sound annoyed—and placed a small dish in front of Temin to catch any falling food.
    Protecting the lovingly polished wood of this handsome inlaid table was the most human thing Temin had
    seen any of them doing, and it made his throat close up a little in homesickness.
    Observing him falter in his eating, the male cocked his head as if concerned. Temin smiled and made
    himself stuff some of the vegetable into his mouth. It was protein-poor, and rather bland, like nearly everything else he’d eaten—they didn’t seem to go in for spices or herbs at all—but he’d eaten it before, so
    he knew it wouldn’t kill him.
    As soon as he finished the vegetable, he found a large piece of meat shoved in front of him. He took
    it, but then was at a loss to know what to do with it—it was easily a kilo or more in weight, and he had
    nothing to cut it with. He put it on the plate, thinking he would have to gnaw at it in some way, but then he
    heard a low growl. His guts turned to ice as he slowly looked up, expecting a blow at the very least, and he
    flinched as the huge knife descended. But all that happened was that the meat was speared and removed,
    taken back to the male’s plate, and returned in smaller pieces Temin could easily manage. He was so
    dumbstruck, he could only stare in surprise—the male stared back, apparently waiting for his response.
    Temin reached out and took a bit of the meat, and smiled. “Good!” he said cheerfully, and mimed
    eating heartily. The male chirped and then touched Temin’s arm gently with one huge paw—a paw that could
    easily kill him but which now, with claws sheathed, felt like being caressed by a furry cushion. Then Temin
    was left to eat his meat in peace.
    The male was watching him again as he finished what he could—they always gave him too much, but
    it was better than too little, he supposed, and the meat was welcome. Temin decided a little physical display
    of gratitude would probably work better than smiles, since he doubted his expressions meant much to these
    creatures. He reached over and put his hand on the male’s thickly-furred arm, digging his fingers in carefully
    —he jumped as the male lifted his other hand, but it was only so he could pet Temin, just as carefully. A low
    purr came from that massive throat, loud as a drill.
    And it was then he realised, he’d been going about this all wrong . He’d been acting like he was a
    slave or a prisoner, the helpless pawn of these huge bastards, and he’d missed the really important thing—he
    was a pet . And pets got their owners to do all kinds of things for them without any need for language. He’d
    seen for himself how cats had normally intelligent and independent humans running to their beck and call
    with a few