Pete Masters the Puppy-Dispensing Oracle

The new shrine appeared on the living room rug after The Human returned from a journey, smelling of the outside world and cardboard. At its center stood the tall, smiling giantess, her plastic gaze fixed on nothing. But my attention was drawn to her companion: a dog of beige plastic, frozen in a placid pose. It was an idol of some lesser god, I presumed, an effigy left to appease me. I approached with the requisite caution, tail a low, slow metronome of suspicion. It smelled of nothing. Not of dog, not of fear, not of food. It was a sterile, hollow void in the scent-scape of my domain. I conducted the customary territorial inspection. A slow, deliberate circle. A sniff of its unyielding plastic ears. It did not flinch, a sign of either supreme confidence or utter stupidity. I extended a single, velvety paw, claws sheathed, and gave its flank a gentle tap. Nothing. Emboldened, I placed my paw more firmly on its back, intending to test its balance, to see if this new god would topple. I applied a bit of weight, shifting my balance for a proper shove, when a soft *click* echoed from within its plastic shell. I froze, recoiling slightly. A small panel on its underside had opened, and from it tumbled a tiny, motionless creature. My fur bristled. What dark magic was this? A sacrifice? An offering? I stared at the small, plastic pup lying on the rug. It was an insult, yet… it was the perfect size. I gave it a tentative bat, and it skittered magnificently across the hardwood, its journey ending with a satisfying *tink* against the leg of the coffee table. My hunter's brain, so often dulled by a life of catered meals and plush bedding, flickered to life. My eyes darted from the tiny, skittering prize back to the motionless beige idol. A slow, brilliant thought began to form in my magnificent mind. I was no simple cat; I was a scientist, an engineer. I padded back to the dog-idol and, with deliberate intent, pressed upon its back once more. *Click.* Another perfect, bat-able offering appeared. I had done it. I had mastered the machine. The giantess could keep her brushes and her empty food bowl. She was merely the guardian of the altar. The beige dog, this glorious, prey-dispensing oracle, was mine. It was, I had to admit, a truly magnificent toy.