(M to Bloodhound)

Nick blinked, his eyes refocusing. His computer rested before him, still showing a grayed-out video. It was supposed to be some sort of dog hypnosis video, but apparently all it had done was make him fall asleep. The brunette leaned back in his chair, mouth stretching wide to yawn…

“Woof!”

…and he barked instead. He blinked, a little surprised by that. That wasn’t nearly the most surprising thing, though. That honor had to belong to the strange smell he’d picked up. His nose tingled, an itch in his sinuses not unlike an allergy.

In spite of this, he could smell perfectly well—better than ever, in fact. Nick’s nose twitched as he sniffed at the air, and a faint grunt slipped from past his lips. He smacked them, noticing that they felt a little thicker than normal. Maybe he really was allergic to something.

“Woof!”

He barked again, doing his best canine impression. Of course, that made sense—he’d just seen a video about turning into a dog. There was no way that could really work, though… Right? His tongue slipped past his lips, and he began to pant instinctively.

The scent of his own breath met his sensitive nose, and he crinkled his nostrils. It wasn’t that it smelled bad—quite the opposite, in fact. It smelled a lot like his toothpaste: minty, fresh, and unnatural. Nick kept huffing, in hopes that might clear some of the flavor from his sinuses.

“Woof!”

Again, a bark. This time, his cheeks felt a little droopy. He pawed at them, noticing that they drooped well below his chin. The thought of growing jowls struck a chord within him, and Nick idly felt a surge of excitement, the same rush he’d get from a dream that took a transformational turn.

Quickly, he turned towards the mirror in his room—and froze. Well, most of him froze. His long, droopy jowls kept moving, and a thin trail of drool flecked from them onto his bed. Then they flopped back, and forth, and back, and forth…

They weren’t what held Nick’s eye. That honor belonged to the man in the mirror, a man who looked like a cross between an excited young man and a dog. His nose was spongy, his cheeks hung low, and there was a faint wrinkle above his eyebrows, like his skin was sagging.

“Wha—oof! Woof! Woof!”

Nick couldn’t help himself. Seeing his reflection triggered something in himself, and he barked again, again, again. Each bark lengthened his ears, until they hung down to his shoulders. Whenever he turned his head, he could feel his long lobes brushing against his collar.

It was surreal. It was a dream come true. He didn’t fully know how to react to it, save for drawing closer to his reflection.

“Woof!”

He barked, falling to his hands and knees. He would have liked to think that he’d decided to do so to get better into character—but he knew it was because he’d just forgotten how to walk. Nick crawled on his hands and legs towards his mirror, mind buzzing.

Rockwell. That was the name he’d wanted for a pet Bloodhound. Would it become his? Would he be okay with that? It did mean leaving life as a human behind…

“WOOF!”

That bark sounded real. It sounded organic, like it had emerged from a proper dog’s throat. It certainly slipped from a real dog’s mouth. Nick’s face looked much like any other Bloodhound’s complete with fur.

Something about his vision had changed, had worsened. He hadn’t noticed the fur until he was practically nose-to-nose with his reflection. It was a small price to pay for his new sense of smell, and Nick felt his backside begin to wag.

“WOOF!”

It was the barks. It had to be. Every time he barked, he turned more and more into a dog. Every time he barked, he became more of a Bloodhound. And Bloodhounds didn’t need clothes. Nick grunted, hurriedly fumbling at his clothes, stripping them as his body changed.

“WOOF! WOOF! HRRWOOF!”

Another barking fit cut him off when he was so close to pulling his shirt over his head. His shoulders and popped at the same time, sending him onto his side. His nose darkened further, wet sinuses picking up every mote of flavor in his old human scent, noticing how the smell was getting more and more canine with each breath.

“WOOF! HGHOOOF!”

Trapped in his shirt, Nickel couldn’t see the changes, and he didn’t like that. It made him… He didn’t know the word for it. That was interesting, since he was sure he liked to read… Even if he couldn’t remember how at the moment.

Wait… What?

Nickell paused, looking intently at his shirt’s tag, dangling before his eyes. Sure enough, the letters were indistinguishable, even the ‘L’ that marked his size. He remembered fully well what it was, but his brain couldn’t manage to discern how that bendy line was pronounced ‘ell’. Not that his muzzle could form the sound.

“WOOF!”

Nockell shuddered, his thumbs twitching as they slid up his wrists. His big toes migrated towards his ankles at the same time, and his other digits all swelled. They were so puffy, so clumsy, never again meant to do anything more than walk.

The thought filled him with a strange excitement. He’d never need to worry about typing a work e-mail again, never have to fill out any of the boring paperwork that had marred his adulthood. All he’d need to do was walk and pant and sniff sniff SNIFF!

That in particular was a lot of fun, and Nockell thumped his face into his old shirt, drinking deep of a smell that was about to be just a memory.

“WOOF!”

He barked a tail into existence, his spine creaking as it shot out from behind his canine posture. His paws scrabbled at the ground, and Nockwell backed out of the human-clothes before himself. He looked to the mirror only to yelp in shock.

Somehow, it had magically turned into a window, and there was a Bloodhound at the other end! The dog had an adorably droopy face, with thick and folded jowls that were perfect for keeping scent trapped close to him. The dog panted just as he did, and the force of each breath made the jowls on his long upper lips sway to and fro, wiggling constantly.

Nockwell tried to lick his new friend, only to slap his tongue against the window. He felt silly for that, he’d forgotten that—there was a dog across from him!

“WOOF!”

Rockwell kept it up for almost a minute, his dwindling mind overwhelmed by the notion of a mirror. It certainly didn’t help things that by giving the mirror a tongue bath, he was also slathering it in his canine scent, further confusing his nose.

The dog backed away from the other one, a little uneasy by how it was so perfectly mimicking his motions. Did this dog think that he was a good boy? No—did this dog think he was a BETTER boy?

“WOOF! RRRGGH!!! WOOF!”

Rockwell’s nose twitched, human childhood memories replacing themselves with a natural instinct for his new form. He realized two things in that instant: first, that he’d been barking at a Fake Dog, the kind of animals that showed up in the Shinies humans liked. Second, there was something yummy outside.

Rockwell turned without a moment’s hesitation, bounding down his hallway towards a delectable smelling bag. In another life, he’d have known it was a bag of kibble meant for his job as a dogsitter. Here, all he knew was that it smelled good, and tasted better.

His wrinkly face dove into the bag, sharp teeth making short work of its lining, exposing the delectable kibble within. His long tongue slurped it past his rubbery lips, and his brown-furred tail wagged harder than he’d ever wagged it in his life.