(M to German Shepherd)

Carter looked at the sign again, as though that would somehow change the delay. His 5:00 PM flight out of Baltimore was now a 7:30, which was just a perfect end to this business trip. Not only would Emily be asleep by the time he staggered home, but he’d also have to put up with another two and a half hours of stale air, screaming kids, and an irritating vinyl chair that somehow always was stiff in the wrong spot.

And all of it for what? A potential client that backed down at the last second? They were probably never going to take the deal, just fishing for offers to try and low-ball some other poor sap.

Carter shuffled a bit in his seat, changing the discomfort in his back to one in his ass. He looked back down to his spreadsheet, wondering how best to sell this expense report to Barb in Accounting. Just another day in paradise.

“Oh Em Gosh guys, look at this. This gate is, like, so dead. And the vibe is absolutely tragic.”

Carter looked up to find a girl talking to her phone, which was currently mounted on a bright pink selfie stick. It had a light attached to it, which served as just another wonderfully irritating distraction. No matter where he tried to look on his screen, the light was always there, dancing in his periphery.

The girl… No, worse, the influencer, flicked one of the bobs of her blonde hair, bouncing on a pair of box-fresh sneakers. Carter idly wondered if they cost more than his suit, or if she just kept the tags on them as some kind of fashion statement.

“Seriously, guys, this airport is just not it. Dreadful lighting, dead atmosphere,” she panned her camera around the terminal, the light sweeping across the waiting passengers, “bunch of tragic, boring people.”

Carter squinted as the light passed over his face, and he finally broke. “Are we going to have a problem?”

The girl paused. Her phone lowered slightly, and she peered at him past its screen. He noticed how one of her eyes was a bright blue and the other was a bright green. Were they contacts, or was she born to be a click magnet? Either way, Carter didn’t like the way she smiled at him.

“Oh, hi,” she chirped, somehow managing to weave a superiority complex into two syllables, “sorry about that. Was my light bothering you?”

“And everyone else here, probably.” Carter looked around for support, but the rest of the terminal apparently had found better things to do. No one was giving him or the girl a second glance anymore. Typical. “Regardless, some of us are trying to work.”

“Work? Here? Ooh, you’re one of those businesspeople, aren’t you? The kind of adult that’d actually work in an airport? That’s charming.”

Carter narrowed his eyes. “Listen, I don’t consent to being a part of this… whatever you’re doing right now. Just please point that somewhere else.”

“Aw, come on, you’ll never get anywhere in life with that attitude,” the twenty-something chuckled, taking a step closer. “Trust me, my followers live for me meeting people like you. It’s authentic, it’s real, it’ll give you something to show your kids when you come home. Sorry for assuming you have kids, but you’re really giving off that stressed dad energy.”

Carter wasn’t sure what to be offended at: a girl half his age preaching to him about life, her quick analysis of his backstory, or that coconut-cream conditioner she wore that had suddenly enveloped his breathing space.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” He looked back down to his keyboard and tried to ignore the quiet click of her nails on her phone.

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun! Here, I’ll spice things up a bit, set a funny filter, and…” Her phone chirped. It wasn’t like a camera’s shutter, it was almost like a toy bird. It was accompanied by a flash of light that made him feel oddly uneasy.

“Adorable,” she purred, twirling on her heel and giving him a cutesy wave. “Thanks love, I’ll chat with you soon.” With that, she abruptly began narrating her trip to the nearest Cinnabon.

Carter was speechless. Was he just a prop to her? Another quickly forgotten feature in her vapid little life? Maybe that was for the best, though. At least she’d leave him alone. He rubbed at his eyes, returning to his spreadsheet. The numbers seemed to swim before his eyes, and he blinked a few more times to clear his vision.

“Better not be having a stroke,” he muttered, ignoring a small itch on the back of his left hand as he returned to his work. “And great, now I’m talking to myself. That’s a sane thing to do.”

The itch was just as persistent as the girl, returning a little deeper, crawling just under his skin by his knuckles. Carter itched his hand, but it was like scratching a mosquito bite. Whatever relief he’d had was soon replaced with more discomfort.

He clenched his fingers as though that would help, only to notice an odd… fullness in them. It was like they were stiffer, swelling. He returned to the keyboard, but his fingers were clumsier. He kept hitting two keys at the same time. T and G, D and F, S and A…

Carter sent a stern glance to his hand as though he could intimidate it into shape. Were his fingernails always this… yellowed? Maybe it was the lighting. He’d trim them when he got home, too. They were longer than he’d normally like.

He returned to typing, and heard them clack against the keyboard. A small itch settled along the back of his neck and he raked his nails against it, tapping his right foot in pleasure as he hit the spot just right. This was fine. It was normal. He was just tired and hyperfixating on things that were always there.

Still, he couldn’t concentrate. It was harder and harder to focus on his work, to the point that ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye. He only noticed their passing by the return of a familiar pair of sneakers. He looked up to find her again, holding her camera up.

“Sorry, the lighting in here is actual garbage. That last one came out a little blurry.”

“Hey, no means no, kid,” Carter growled. “Leave me alone or I’ll call security.”

“Ha! You’re great. Super intense too, I can get behind that,” she tapped her screen again. CHIRP. “Kay thanks!”

Carter blinked repeatedly, shuddering. Something about that flash made him feel… Wrong. Tight. Like nothing fit right. Was he being self-conscious? He crinkled his nose at her retreating back, wiping the back of his hand against the beads of sweat on his forehead.

It felt like he’d just brushed a towel against his face.

He paused, looking at the backs of his hands. His heart froze. Thick, coarse khaki hair covered the backs of his hands, like he’d somehow glued a patch of faux-fur to himself. He could feel that itchy sensation again, and wherever it went, more fur sprouted, swarming over his hands and racing towards his wrists.

“The hell?” Carter brushed against the hairs anxiously, but it didn’t come off. He could feel the tug of each hair against his skin. He went to try to scratch at them, only to notice that his nails were darker now, black, curved claws poking out from the fur around his fingers.

Frantically, he looked up, checking his surroundings. No-one else seemed to notice his hands changing. Was this all in his head? It couldn’t be, it felt too real. But then why wasn’t anyone react? Hell, the guy across from him was still reading some book about life improvement.

Could they… Not see him?

He gulped, a chill passing down his spine. He had to get up. He had to walk somewhere, anywhere to try and think. Maybe the bathroom? Would a mirror help? Was there anything going on that he’d need a mirror for?

He fumbled with his laptop, his claws skittering across its smooth surface. His fingers felt puffy, clumsy. He had to close it more with his palms than his digits. He shoved it into his bag, not even bothering to zip it shut.

Carter rose to his feet, only to become keenly aware something was very, very wrong. An ache shot up from his arches down to his knees, growing the more weight he tried to put on his heels. It felt like all the bones in his feet were grinding against each other, forcing him off-balance.

He’d planned to try and casually walk to the men’s room. Instead, he made a lurching, stumbling mess of himself, barely making it to the sinks. His hands thumped against the counter, and he leaned close enough to the sink that its proximity sensor triggered, giving his tie a nice bath.

He looked up to his reflection slowly, dreading what he might see. Thankfully, his face was just like he remembered. A bit pale and sweatier than normal, sure. But his.

Then he looked down to his hands, finding they weren’t hands anymore. His fingers were shorter, thicker, stubby things with dark claws. His palms were swollen pads, with thick, soft leather bulging out from amidst the tan fur.

Paws. He had paws for hands.

Carter half-giggled, half-sobbed. He wasn’t sure why he did either. He also didn’t know why he ran his paws under the water, because all it did was mat the fur down to his skin. Maybe he was in shock. Was this what shock felt like? Or maybe it was a nightmare.

He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself. It didn’t really work. “This is a dream. Just a dream. I’m going to get back to my chair. I’m going to take a nap. I’ll wake up in time for my flight.” He looked himself in the eyes, surprised to see the pep talk had worked a little.

Then he pushed himself off the counter, limping back to his seat and plopping down in it with a groan. He folded his arms to hide his paws, even though it didn’t look like anyone had noticed. He closed his eyes.

Coconut conditioner.

His eyes snapped open to find her next to him, a smile on her face. “Oh wow, you look like super stressed. You really need to hydrate.”

Carter glared at her for a moment, then realized she wasn’t looking at her camera, or even his face. She was looking at his folded arms, as though trying to see his hands.

“Wait… You…” He breathed, terrified. “Are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” She blinked, placing a delicate hand on her chest. “Recording? It’s kind of my thing, you know. You really shouldn’t be so paranoid. Though that is a cute look on you.”

Before he could push her away, she brought her phone up towards his face. Its pink case glittered, and now that Carter was looking closer, he could half-make out a shape in the glitter that made his head hurt to look at.

CHIRP.

A headache exploded between his ears, not like a migraine, but like a literal ache from every part of his face, down to his tongue. He gagged, leaning forward, his paws thumping against his knees. His tongue lolled out from his mouth, tasting the cool air. His nose tingled.

A loud creak filled his world, and he watched in horror as his face distended. His nose pushed out from the rest of his face, darkening, spreading, taking on a wet sheen. It felt clogged for a moment and he half-sneezed. His next breath in felt like a firecracker going off in his brain.

He could smell the sharp note of the Cinnabon fifty yards away. He could smell a trace of jet fuel from the tarmac outside the gate, and the crisp winter air. He could smell his own fear-sweat, drenching his clothes. That coconut stink of Lexi’s perfume made his eyes water.

He gagged, choking on his own tongue for a moment as it thickened. The wet muscle dropped against his chin, which felt fuzzier than it should have been. He tried to wipe at his face with his paws but misjudged the distance, thumping them against the side of his dog’s nose awkwardly.

“What’s wrong, puppy? Something off?” Lexi purred.

Wait. That was wrong too. She’d never introduced herself to him, so how-

CHIRP

“Probably your ears,” she muttered.

His ears bulged, right then left. The airport terminal’s ambient noise turned into a waterfall’s roar, a thousand different sounds all at once, all at full blast.

“-telling you, this season’s better than the last-”

“-delayed again, yeah, but I’m hoping-”

“-finally over, thank God. Might even be-”

Fur itched from behind his ears as they swiveled uncontrollably on his head, flicking towards each sound, each conversation, too many things for his brain to even come close to processing at once. He felt the leather of his paws against his ears as he tried to cover them.

“Grraahh’d oo dootuhmeee?” He slurred around his stretched jaw, the muscles in his throat aching as he tried to force words from his muzzle.

“Aww, you’re like, so close to talking. That’s adorable, Mister…” Lexi paused. “Hang on, did I ever get your name?”

“Cawwrrtuuhh,” he moaned miserably.

“Nah, that’s not right. I’m thinking more… Fritz? Buddy? Hmm… Ace! I like that. Sounds like a winner, and you’re just such a good winner, aren’t you?”

Carter’s ears twitched. What was she even talking about? He looked up to find her hopping off her seat, fiddling with her phone.

“Aww, look at you, puppy’s thinking like people! C’mon, let’s try and get all of you in this next shot.”

He tried to escape, tried to take cover, to hide from the camera. That had to be what was doing this to him, right?

But Carter had forgotten about his feet.

The moment he tried to stand, something slid deep in his knees. His arches slid upwards, pulling his heels off the ground, forcing him onto the balls of his feet. His ankles popped and cracked loudly. His toes felt shorter, stubbier, thicker. His shoes were squeezing them too tightly.

He crashed onto the disgusting airport floor, yelping as his tongue met contact with the carpet. It tasted a little rubbery, like the countless footsteps trodden on it had somehow imprinted on it. He noticed a touch of mint, crossing his eyes and finding his tongue had partially landed on some old gum that had stubbornly fused itself with the ground.

“Ooh, that’s perfect. Hold that pose, they’re gonna love seeing how big and clumsy you are!”

CHIRP.

Carte screamed as something tugged at the base of his spine. He hated how much his voice sounded like a terrified canine yelp. His tailbone stretched out, new vertebrae clicking as they settled into a limb he didn’t ask for. It caught against his belt and he rolled onto his belly, scrabbling desperately against the backside of his pants as the pressure built and built and built.

Lexi’s hand snaked around his waistline, tugging his pants down and mercifully relieving the pressure. Thick, dense black and tan fur exploded out from it, thumping against the seat next to him. He could feel every inch of his new tail, and tried to still it, only for it to thump harder as if mocking him.

“Aww, Ace is just such a good boy, isn’t he?” Lexi sang, dropping in front of him and holding her camera up again.

Carte moaned. “Pleeth… Thoppuh thith-”

CHIRP

His skull tightened around his brain like a vise. Tears dripped from his eyes, drool poured from his maw. He coughed, his tongue slapping against his teeth and telling him how sharp they were. More fur itched out from under his collar. His lips darkened. Everything felt so fuzzy, so weird.

Acte tried to beg for mercy, tried to scream.

“WUFFF! HRROOO!?”

His jaw clacked shut, embarrassed. He took in deep, ragged breaths, but no matter how hard he panted, it felt like his lungs were never full. He realized that his chest was barreling out, his shoulders broadening, his suit suddenly too tight against his back.

Still, nobody noticed. Nobody except her.

“Aww, look at you! You’re such a beautiful boy, you really turned out well. But I don’t think those clothes look right hanging off you like that. It’s a little silly,” Lexi said the last part conspiratorially, with a wink.

Acte growled, baring his teeth. He needed her to stay away. She was bad. Scary.

Lexi giggled and then bopped his wet, black nose. “No. Bad dog, Ace.”

He flinched as though stung. She was bad, not him! Why did being called bad make him feel so hurt, so ashamed? And why was she still calling him Ace? He was Acte… No. that wasn’t right. He was… Was…

She reached for him, deftly pulling and tugging at his clothes. The terminal’s cool air met his pelt and he shook himself out reflexively, fluffing up some of his fur. He kicked at the clothes tangled around his legs and she laughed, tugging them down.

Only then did he realize that he was naked. On all fours. In the middle of Gate B12. He whined in shame, turning his head and looking at himself. There was nothing human about him, he looked like a dog. Like a German Shepherd, next to a pile of his old clothes.

“WHGRRRYYY?” He whined.

“Hmm… I think you’re still a little too flexible, Ace… Not to mention, that’s a little close to speech. Who ever heard of a talking dog, huh?” Lexi aimed the phone at him again. He blinked. He tried to move.

CHIRP.

Cace convulsed. His neck thickened, vocal chords aching. “PLHEEHHUUUHHRRUUF! RRRUWRF!” His entire body shook with each bark. His shoulders and hips popped, trapping him permanently on all fours. Worst of all, all the aches vanished, everything felt so normal and comfortable. He was a dog.

He shook his body, from nose to tail, an instinct he’d never learned yet somehow knew. His jowls flapped just a little, a bit of drool flecking out like he was a fuzzly sprinkler.

“That’s right, that’s perfect. Sweet Ace, with such a good puppy body. Now all we need to do is just take a video for what’s left of that little mind of yours, okay boy?”

Cace tilted his head. His ears twitched. It was like trying to translate another language. Her tone was nice, but the more he thought about the words, the scarier they were. His tail tucked between his legs as she swiped her finger on the screen. A light blinked on her phone.

A new, warm, fuzzy feeling traveled along his body. It started in his toes, and he padded his feet on the ground unsurely. It traveled up past his wagging tail, through his chest, down his arms, along his muzzle, lingering on his tongue. He panted. His brain felt fuzzy.

For some reason, Ace thought of the word Carter. Was that a word? Was it a sound? It seemed to meaningless now. Ace tried to focus. Something had scared a person. He could smell their fear. But it was just one. All the other people seemed okay. Why did he feel so uneasy?

Lexi leaned down towards him, her warm hand rubbing against his cheek. She smelled like heaven. He rubbed his head against her palm. “Who’s a good boy. Is it you? Is Ace a good boy?”

Ace knew those words, not like that Carter-sound. Those were good words, it meant he was a good boy. He thumped his heavy tail harder against the ground, wiggling his butt. A whine of affirmation slid up his throat. He stared at the pretty girl, at his good Master, at his world.

“Or… Maybe you’re a naughty boy.” Her tone took on a mocking nature. That light was still blinking on her phone.

He felt… Warm. Hotter. It was like a tingling, good ache deep within him.

“Lick yourself, boy.”

Ace unsurely tilted his head, playing his long, warm tongue against his furry arm. He was a little salty, a lot fuzzy. That was good. His tail wagged. But that heat didn’t go away. It was still there. It needed his attention. He whined anxiously.

“Not there, boy. You know where,” Lexi took a step back, still holding her phone out.

A tiny, fading part of his brain knew what he was doing. The last bits of Carter watched in horror as he moved his muzzle between his legs. He felt one of his powerful hind legs stretch out, splayed to the side, exposing himself to the entire terminal.

He felt his wet, twitching nose bump against himself. He felt his hot, musky breath. His long, raspy tongue snaked out, licking at himself.

His brain short-circuited. He kept licking. He didn’t know how long. His other leg kicked slightly, thumping along with his tail. He pushed his muzzle down further onto himself. “Uuahmm-hlk!” He half-choked for a moment. Too far. He moved a little back, angling his head, panting.

Ace was cleaning himself. Yes. That was it. That was good. He wasn’t doing anything naughty. He rubbed the soft, wet inside of his cheek against himself and his tail thumped even louder. He was drowning in this pleasure.

“Oh em gee, guys. Remember how I said there was nothing fun happening at this airport? Well, check this out! There’s totally someone’s service dog here, and he’s,” Lexi made a motion Ace didn’t recognize with her hands. “Didn’t anyone train him how to behave? What a naughty boy!”

Something about her tone hit Ace just right. He howled, the sound muffled by his knot. Something hot and tasty splashed into his throat and he gulped it down, wagging his tail. That little voice in the back of his head had gone quiet, and Ace happily lapped at himself, cleaning himself off, warm, pleasured.

A warm hand rubbed between his ears, and Ace whined happily. He looked up to see Lexi wasn’t on her phone anymore. She smiled. “Good job, Ace. Good puppy.”

He panted back in reply. He moved to lick her, but she pushed him away with a laugh.

“Not after that, you don’t. Sit. Heel.”

Ace scrambled onto all fours and sat perfectly still, his head held high despite how he’d just shamefully debased himself in public. His eyes were bright, loyal, and completely vacant of any thought more complex than licking at himself again.

Lexi reached into her bag, pulling out a vest with some letters on them, and a thick leather collar. Were they presents for him? His eyes slid along the shapes, tracing them but not understanding. S-E-R-V-I-C-E D-O-G. Weird, but the vest was snug and cozy on him so he didn’t mind. He wagged his tail a little harder.

“Good boy, Ace. Okay, now wait here a moment, you’ll have some new friends. Ace likes that, he likes new friends, doesn’t he?”

Ace wagged his tail harder, sitting a little straighter, doing just as he was trained.

Lexi chuckled, strutting away from him, walking towards a boarding agent. The tired-looking woman slowly slid her eyes up to Lexi like the task was a Herculean effort. “What?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you miss, but I just noticed this dog’s just kind of been sitting alone here. I think he’s maybe a service dog or something, can you put a call out to his owner? Kay thanks.”

With that, Lexi turned on her heel, bobbing away from the counter. She angled her phone towards him as she walked, and Ace looked at it curiously.

CHIRP.

Ace watched the strange girl walk away, before he returned to sitting at attention. Why had he been distracted by her? He didn’t know. Probably that sand-ocean smell she had. He shouldn’t be distracted though. He had to wait for his master. He was a good boy.