In light of your ongoing complaint, WereAir would like the issue you a $50 voucher for new clothing as compensation for your lost luggage.
Sequel:
"What do you mean, 'lost'?! That's my humanity you're talking about!" David scrambled up onto his suitcase to better meet the eye level of the WereAir representative. His reduced form still barely reached above the the level of the employee's belly.
The man tapped his keyboard listlessly. "There's no sign of your DNA registered on our system. 1867 passengers boarded. 1866 vials of DNA loaded in the cargo hold." He frowned down at the half-animal. "You're sure they extracted it in Dallas?"
"Yes, I'm sure! You think I was born like this?" David snapped back. He turned to point at his wife and children lingering by the exit. They were eager to begin their Caribbean holiday. "My family got reverted just fine."
The man shrughed. "It's possible your vial got loaded onto a later flight. We have your number on file. If- when it arrives, we'll ring you to come collect it. Okay? Next!"
The heavyset woman in the queue behind him bustled forward, knocking David from his perch in her impatience to get to the helpdesk. David continued to complain at the feet of the WereAir representative, but his tiny voice was lost in the hubbub of the airport.
He was on the verge of extending his claws for the first time when his wife's finger hooked into his collar.
"Babe, the taxi is waiting," she chided him, dragging her husband-cum-pet towards the start of their vacation.