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I yip with joy when Dad says we’re going to visit Lady Erect Ears’ home territory, but she’s not so pleased that I’m coming. “T’Pol, Porthos doesn’t bite, and I’ll keep him on a very short leash.” It’s quite hot where the Erect Ears pack lives, so all the plants have thorns instead of leaves. Thorns that prick my paws, scratch my belly and poke my nose when I stop to smell a flower. Thorns even try to kill me. “Captain, that plant is poisonous to canines.” I begin to understand why Lady Erect Ears doesn’t like to be touched.