My day as a dog…

My day as a dog.

The strangest thing happened to me the other day. I went to bed as a middle aged man and woke up as a dog.

Perhaps unsurprisingly it took me a while to realise it. The basket I was curled up in should have been a clue but it’s not everyday something like this happens so it took a moment or two for my mind to adjust.

As a half full bowl of food kind of dog, rather than the half glass empty kind of human I’d been the day before, I was fine with my new circumstances. I looked upon this unexpected change as an opportunity for new and exciting experiences. The first of which would be to exit my new sleeping quarters and chase my tail as fast as I could.

Although I never quite managed to catch my pesky tail, after about thirty minutes, I felt confident I’d sent it a strong message that I wasn’t to be trifled with so I stopped. It was now time to embark on some serious sniffing.

The first thing I sniffed was the crotch of the unfamiliar man who appeared to be sitting on my sofa. As my dog intuition, still in development as it later turned out, had already suggested, this dude smelled like someone who wasn’t to be trusted.

I’d have liked to have challenged him as to his motives for being in my house using the Queens English but, instead, I let out a blood curdling growl that was sure to scare the upstart on his way. Imagine my surprise when, instead of bolting for the exit, he crouched down and patted me on the head.

This outrage was compounded when he followed this up by adopting a strange, toddler inspired, voice and asking, “How’s my little lady today?”. Not only was I a dog but I was a girl dog to boot. This was turning into a slightly strange sort of day.

Deciding to reflect a little on my situation, instead of simply biting the new guy, I went into the kitchen to sniff out some food. Becoming a female dog was hungry work and I was ravenous.

Once in the kitchen I soon tracked down my food bowl. Due to my extreme need for sustenance I didn’t let myself get too upset by the fact that it was bright pink in colour. The dry, multi coloured, pellet like, biscuits that were inside it were another matter. No self respecting former male human that’s now a female dog could be expected to eat this nonsense. I did though. I was a dog, I’d have eaten anything.

After the abomination masquerading itself as my breakfast had been demolished, I found myself quite fancying the idea of a walk.

Eyeing what I assumed to be my lead, hanging over the kitchen door handle, I grabbed it in my teeth and shuttled off back to where I’d left the scoundrel (I’d christened him that whilst munching on my dry, so called, food) to find him, as expected, still lazing about on my sofa.

Positioning myself directly in front of him, I gave a little bark and shook my head from side to side, thereby ringing the little bell someone (probably the scoundrel) had attached to my lead.

Despite the obvious meaning behind my actions the scoundrel remained unmoved. I tried again. I tried again. I tried again. I peed on the carpet.

He wasn’t happy but it worked. We were heading on our way towards the nearby park. I could feel my tail wagging furiously in anticipation as I dragged the scoundrel forward at pace. It hadn’t escaped my attention that he had a small ball in his pocket. If there was ever anything that needed throwing, chasing, returning and then throwing again that ball was it. I couldn’t wait to get started.

We’d barely started our game of ‘fetch’, I’d only returned the ball to the scoundrel thirty seven times, when I saw him. The most majestic creature I’d ever seen. Handsome, muscular and oh so very sexy. A Prince among Rottweilers and he was looking over at me. Even the scoundrel could feel the strength of our connection and he did me a solid by launching the ball over in his direction so I had an excuse to bound over to where he was in the park. Once there the two of us were able to indulge in a spot of mutual sniffing of each other’s behinds. If every you wanted to see a visual representation of what true love looks like then this was it.

I think we both knew it couldn’t last. His owner wanted to take him in one direction and the scoundrel wanted to manoeuvre me in another. As we headed off I couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t in fact the woman of my dreams who’d woken up that morning having turned into a male dog. Stranger things have happened.

We ended up at a bench near the duck pond. The scoundrel chose to sit down. I was a little tired by now, as well, so I settled myself near him and awaited our next move. It was then that I noticed how lonely he looked. I could see in his eyes that he needed a friend. He needed a best friend. He needed me. It was then that I realised he wasn’t a scoundrel after all so I jumped up on his lap and licked his face. All best friends should lick each other’s faces. It should be the law.

Up close I could also see how much he looked like me before I turned into a female dog. I didn’t really think much more about that though, not sure why.

Our trip to the park had changed things. As we made our way home I could feel the bond between us getting stronger. Whatever was missing from his life I knew that my purpose was to replace it, or at least make things more bearable, until he could find what he’d lost. No job was ever more important.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing at home. We watched some television. I enjoyed an episode of ‘One Man and his Dog’ we managed to catch. The dog on the show was rubbish but, fortunately, the sheep responded to my expert barking at the television and found their way to the pen in a decent time.

Teatime was a revelation. Gone was the dried nonsense and instead we shared a packet of sausages. The former scoundrel had chips with his, I had a real bone. I wasn’t like a dog with a bone. I was a dog with a bone.

After tea we took a short stroll to the local pub. We sat, silently, together in the corner of the old fashioned tap room and I contemplated stuff. I decided that a dogs life brought out the best in me. It made me understand what real loyalty, friendship and unconditional love are all about. Whereas before I’d wanted these things from other people, now I just wanted to give them to the former scoundrel. I didn’t really think I wanted much in return, maybe the odd sausage or twelve but that’s about it.

I went to sleep that night in my basket having learned a lot. The next morning I woke up in my bed and knew immediately that I had changed back into a middle aged man. As I lay there, one thought was front and centre….

I really should get myself a dog.

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7 thoughts on “My day as a dog…

    1. I’m beginning to think you may be right. Having a dog to talk to might stop me from posting silliness on FB on my bad days if nothing else.

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