I Cannot Believe My Humans Have Survived as Long as They Have

I have been brought to a strange new land. It is hot and dry. The grass is spiky and crunches beneath my feet, and my paws itch. But I am enjoying the smells of the new birds and small lizards, and there is a large friendly lab up the street. His humans allow him to roam in exquisite freedom. Why am I not allowed such freedom? But I digress.

I used to think the smelly cat-like creature who so rudely sprayed that stinging oil into my face that one time when I tried to make friends with it was my most fearsome enemy, but no longer.

There is a much larger cat creature roaming the small forest behind my new den. This one is intent on eating me.

I smelled it one day when my beloved mistress was walking with me. She is either the bravest or most stupid creature on Earth; when I tried to pull her as quickly as possible from the impending doom, she ... (excuse me, but I get emotional about this) ... scolded me.

I do not like to be scolded. I am a good doggie. I AM A GOOD DOGGIE.

Where was I? Oh, yes. She was unhappy that I yanked the leash. Only when we had turned upon the hard path of stone, and I kept looking back to make sure the cat creature was not stalking us, intent upon preying on us as I knew it was, did my human realize there might be a real cause for concern.

I heard her say the word "coyotes." Coyotes, indeed! As if a noble fellow canine would do such a thing! Plus, I was pretty sure I could defeat at least one of those things.

No, this was a big, ferocious cat. Finally, she saw the beast a few days later. Must humans rely only on their eyes? How dangerous. I must increase my vigilance, knowing this. I MUST PROTECT MY HUMANS!

Finally, my mistress has begun heeding my warnings. The cat creature must not prevail! Also, I believe it is eating all the delicious, delicious rabbits.

I hate it, that cat creature.