Safety

Elbee carried the weak and dehydrated stray six blocks to the backyard of a modest house whose yard and fence were impeccably maintained. The Great Dane stood on its hind legs and craned its large head and long neck over the wooden slats at the corner near the shed. There, a trough of fresh water and a big bowl of food sat at the end of a row of small, tidy kennels stuffed with fresh towels and soft blankets. "You've been on the street too long, buddy," Elbee mumbled, dropping the kitty down so that it could drink and eat and rest. "No more hiding, starving, or trying to find safety; this is home." The kitty looked around, seeing other dogs and cats resting in the shade, offering no resistance to its arrival. "I think, from the smell, they're probably android or even magickal simulacra, but that just makes them better than human, really; they do no harm ... uh ... to creatures in their care." It remembered that one night some tweakers tried to break in, kicking the fenceposts down while waving knives and bats; Elbee had seen the protective programming initiate - had seen the lasers fire up behind the eyes. "Trust me, little one; you're safe," it said, moving slowly away.