I have to admit I was worried when i saw the vehicle I'd use to pick up my human. Grene had assured me a thousand times that it would be okay. There was no barrier separating the front seat from the back. The human I'd thrown in the back seat was entirely free to reach forward and grab me, and I didn't like it.
It wasn't an issue in the end. The skinny, frail creature I'd purchased was terrified. She spent the entire ride curled in my back seat, shaking. She didn't look at me, out the window, or at anything inside the car. I tried to crank up the heat, hoping she might just be cold, but had to turn it back down after the stuffy air made her sweat. She didn't remove the blanket throughout any of this. Sweating, shaking, curled up in a ball, and wrapped up in a pitiful blanket, she didn't dare move.
It was a far cry from any human I'd known growing up. I'd seen them sick, scared, tired, and stressed, but never anything like this. She'd shut down completely. I couldn't fathom what might be wrong with her.
Did that dealer do this? The conditions were terrible, no doubt about that. Still, I knew they were legal. Every dealer on the planet was like this. Every single one had their humans out doors, fed them the same food, and were government inspected to "the highest standards". It was despicable. I clenched my jaw from the sheer anger, I might have bitten the person who did this.
As I sat there, consumed by the frustration that this would happen to a human of all creatures, I glanced in the mirror at her again. She was still shut down, still shaking, but she'd begun to cry. I could remember every time I'd seen a human cry. They'd have just stubbed their toe or twisted an ankle playing, but it had always been accompanied with a loud noise to tell everyone else they'd been hurt. Every other human rushed to their side at the sound and tried to help. She was completely silent, despite the tears and breathing that came with a hurt human.
I tried to recall what else might make a human cry. Dog-men didn't cry. It was on the tip of my tongue, I could remember Vylet telling me during her lessons. I couldn't remember what it was despite my best efforts.
About half way there, I called Kee. A local vet, but a good one. My family had been doing this for generations, and every single time Kee or his father had treated our new humans. We had piddled around with other vets in the area, but none of us had been happy with them. Aspin had broken his wrist on his first vet visit, and that was the last time we went with anyone besides Kee.
She'd need a visit immediately anyways. Wild caught humans were taken from around the planet and thrown together. Some had immunities to illnesses that others could catch, there was no quarantine and no medication. Humans could hide injuries if they were scared, and these ones certainly would.
I wont bore you with the details of my call with Kee. I didn't even speak to him directly, but rather his receptionist. He'd been warned I had "finally" arrived for my human and would be visiting soon. She knew exactly what I was calling for the moment I said my name. We agreed to have me stop by while the human was still in the car and get her checked out.