In Alien Hands: Meeting Merle

Meeting Holli

I wasn't the fondest of pet stores, but it was the only place to get a wild human that wasn't aggressive. Even then, more than half had aggression issues that take years to work past.  Pretty much anyone who gave up their humans on this planet did so when theirs had attacked them.

Where I was raised, humans stayed in the family when the owner died. The bond one formed with their human was close enough that they'd never give them away to a stranger unless they'd been fed up with aggression. Even then, it was frowned upon. I had doubted that humans could be so aggressive as to facilitate a rehoming until I arrived at that sad cage. I had assumed it was a horror story my older brother told me to upset me.

I had come to this horrendous planet to purchase my first, last, and only human. My family had made sure to only adopt humans who needed adoption, so we left the household once ready to go find our own human. These such stores were illegal on my planet, as were untamed, wild humans. We came here to find and tame a human to return home with.

I had been so excited to finally get my human, playing with the family's pets throughout my childhood and always longing for a human of my own. As my older siblings became "of age" and left for this planet, I had become even more eager. It was my time now, my human, and my job to save it. However, it had immediately become clear that I had my work cut out for me.

Nearly three fourths of the people in the cage were extremely aggressive, yelling and reaching through the bars of the cage. I knew from advice I had been given by my brother that I shouldn't get one of them unless I wanted a caged pet. They took years to get them tolerance trained, and even longer to get them to trust you. The books I had read stated that these people are consumed by their anger from being captured, and rarely forgave us fully. My family would be livid if I tried to bring one of those lot home.

While we still cared about these aggressive humans, it was a bad idea to bring them home. They were notorious for trying to escape or attacking their Dog-men, the second part of the horror story my siblings had told me underneath our little clubhouse.

It was the others who were desirable. The store owner had told me no one had purchased any since the last shipment a month ago, so the best should still be there. Most stores only had the angry ones left, so I had driven an hour to get there after calling ahead. The scared ones were desirable. The half dozen sitting in the back, hiding as best they could, were the ones with the best chance of taming.

I looked at these sad humans and thought about my family and the humans I'd grown up with. I'd spend days playing with my parents' humans like a close friend. I couldn't imagine any of our humans acting like any of the ones locked in that small cage. Nonetheless, the time had come for me to leave the family and find a pet of my own. Someone I would spend my days with and love like my own. Once my human was ready, we could return to the family. It was a century old tradition, and a tradition I loved. Now I was face to face with exactly why we bought and tamed wild humans instead of buying domestically raised ones. It was hard to face, but it made sense to me after that moment.

We always chose scared ones because it is easier for humans to overcome fear than anger. Instead of proving to your pet that you should be forgiven for hurting them, you can convince them that you won't hurt them. It is a matter of gaining trust instead of gaining forgiveness. I stood and watched them for some time.

After a few minutes of watching them, I left to get the manager and we chatted about the humans that were scared.

He pointed each one out to me, although he didn't have as much informations as I'd have liked. He didn't know who ate how much, he barely knew their ages. He seemed to like humans, however, albeit his boasting over their "healthy diet" of exclusively Vera fruit. While the fruit wasn't bad for humans, it didn't appeal to their sense of taste and didn't have complete nutrition.

I was getting increasingly agitated by their poor care, looking at their thin, dirt covered clothes, their hair universally matted. It was clear that this Dog-man knew nothing about their care, and I knew it was impossible to educate him. This planet was notorious for poor animal rights, I'd only come off as smug and risk leaving my future human behind.

After chatting about all of them, I told him which ones I was interested in, and he had them all moved into a smaller cage.

There was a test which would make the final choice for me. It had been used for generations to determine which one would be easiest to handle and least likely to run away. The two interns who were helping move the humans i had chosen brought the small carrier cage I had purchased. It was very small, but apparently the biggest human proof one they sold, and I hoped that this would be the only time I needed it, I'd much rather my human walk with me. It was tiny and cramped, I hated putting a human in there, but I couldn't take them home loose.

With the four humans I had chosen cornered in the small cage, the manager approached all of them. Three had run away, and the fourth cowered. She was my choice. She was chosen because, when scared, she was more likely to hope for mercy instead of running. This meant she had the potential to be more trusting, and less likely to attempt escape when it isn't guaranteed she'd succeed. I nodded to the manager, and he lifted her into my carrier as she cried, handling her more roughly than I'd have liked . They threw an old blanket over her carrier to prevent light getting in through the small air holes along the top of the carrier. I paid for her and took her home.

While I dragged her tiny cage into my car, I felt badly for the poor soul I had in my back seat. I imagined how scared my mother's human, Jak, must of been on his first day. I struggled to even imagine him, terrified and crying. It seemed unlikely that she'd be as tame as any of my family's humans one day. She sniffled and cried the whole way home, terrified of even the thought of what I had planned for her.

I remembered the lessons. I spent ages being taught how to tame a human, how to bond with one. But no one warned me just how terrified she'd be, how convinced she'd be that I wanted to kill her. It was like listening to a scared child, being taken off to their death. Father had told me not to hide my sympathy, that it would help her see I wasn't a threat, even if it seemed that staying strong was better.

It wasn't long until we arrived home and it was time to inadvertently terrify her once more. While I dreaded it, I knew I was as ready I'd ever be.

Rewritten 6/21/19