"Here we are. It's not much, but it's what I got. Maybe I can take you over to Delphie's later today. Right now, though," she said, making her way to the porch. "I've gotta get you something to eat." 

I followed her inside, my claws clicking on the wood floor. We had entered a small room with two exits. It had a few chairs and a desk set against the wall. A hideous thing hung on the wall. I could not even begin to describe the shudder that went over my entire body when my eyes landed upon it.

Humans called it art. It was not. It was a canvas with a few dots of paint splattered over it. Some had been made into streaks. Some had been made into large ovals. There was even a curved line, too! An exercise in basic geometry it may have been, but art it absolutely was not.

I followed her into another room and resolved to wipe that particular...thing from my memory. This room had shelves stacked high with cooking implements, a cupboard against one wall, and a tall cylindrical object against the other. Some sort of freezing container, apparently, as her poking briefly around in it sent a blast of cold air around the room. 

She bustled about the room rather noisily. It seemed to involve the countertops, and I could not get high enough to see exactly what was going on. Feeling a little tired, I sat and waited patiently. By the meaty smell, it might have involved food. For me. And that alone made it worth waiting.

It has been said that we Yrahtians enjoy eating. We've even been called gluttons by a few ridiculous critics who assumed that we cared what they thought of our business. Usually said critics were tiny little whelps barely rising over five feet. Obviously, they didn't eat much. 

Whether or not I was spurred by gluttony, I thumped my tail and panted eagerly as the woman set a sort of metal dish in front of me. It was filled with little partially rounded cubes of some hard, faintly meaty material. I grimaced a little. I had been hoping for meat, but I took one of the pieces in my jaws, and munched thoughtfully. It was dry and virtually tasteless. Ugh, I thought, dropping the shards back into the dish and looking up at the woman.

Isn't there anything else you have? Something even slightly palatable? I asked silently, searching her face. She looked down at me, frowning.

"What's wrong?" She got on her knees beside me, stroking the fur behind my ears soothingly. "I guess some strays get so nervous they can't eat," she added quietly, almost to herself.

She did not seem to be resolving the obvious problem with the food. I whined, cursing myself even as the pathetic sound slipped out from between my fangs. She patted my nose.

"Don't worry, sweetie. Don't worry about the bad people who abandoned you. You're safe now. Safe."

Reluctantly, I picked one of the cubes up and held it in my teeth. I was very hungry. My small sack of a stomach seemed to be shrinking by the second. I blew out a sigh and began to crunch my way through the fare, as unappealing as it was, I needed sustenance if I to rule the humans.