"Bad boy!" Joe said swatting you with a rolled up newspaper.
"Hey, what's that for, pops?" you whine.
"First, you drove my new car through the wall of the garage. Second, you crushed, Franklin, your brother's prize pooch. Third, today is the dog show. And four, well, it's all the last straw," Joe says shaking with anger he lowers the remote control at you and aims it at you. He pushes the button.
You snort, "Hey, I'm sorry about the car, and the dog," you say with a yawn, "But I'm not one of your TV programs that you can- woof!" You stop, and try to speak, but you can only bark. You are itching all over, and your body aches even more than it did. You feel your organs shifting, and your bones and sinews reshaping your body. You tumble out of bed on to all fours, and whimper.
"Now here's the sitch, Nate doesn't know that you're not Franklin. You obey him, and don't do anything to make him think you aren't his dog. If you win the dog show, I'll change you back tonight. If you're a good dog, well maybe a week will teach you a lesson. Oh, and if you're a bad dog, or do anything to upset Nate, your canine condition can easily be made permanent."
You are quivering in agony, as your body loses its humanity,
"What happened, pops?" Nate asks as he enters your room. "There is a gaping hole in the garage wall, and your car's all smashed up. I can't find Franklin, he must've run off." He sounds worried.
"Teddy was drunk driving again. But Franklin's fine. Aren't you, boy?" Joe says stooping to pet you.
You snap at him with your new teeth and growl.
He jumps back and says, "You may need to have him fixed, if you want to win any competitions with that animal."
Nate swoops in and wraps his arms around your neck, and begins massaging your shoulder.
"There, there, boy," he says soothingly to you, "I'm sure he's just on edge from the noise and trauma of the accident. I'm glad he wasn't hurt. We've got a competition today."
"I know. Let me know how it goes. If he's troublesome, you can always harvest his sperm for breeding before you cut his nuts off. Tell me you'll do that if Franklin misbehaves?"
You press yourself against Nate. You whimper. You realize that your father is serious about cutting your nuts off.
"Pops, you're scaring him. Just relax. If Franklin remains temperamental, I have him neutered, but I don't think that will be necessary."
You relax a bit. Bark cheerfully and lick his hand.
"There, there, boy. It's amazing how much tone and body language communicates to an animal who really has no concept of our language," Nate remarked.
"Yes, isn't it," Joe said with a sneer.
"Where's Teddy? Was he hurt?" Nate says looking at the hole in the wall.
"What? Teddy, he wasn't hurt in the accident," Joe says, and adds, "But he was driving drunk.
"Is he in jail? We should go see him," Nate says standing.
"No, I put him in a rehab program," Joe says with a grin looking down at you. "He's not allowed any contact until he demonstrates he's learned his lesson. I don't know if that will be a week, a month or ever?" He sighs.
Damn, that's his way of telling you that even if you win the stupid Kennel Club Ribbon, you're stuck as a dog for a week for snapping at him. You whimper, put your front paws on the ground and lower your head in supplication.
Joe grins and wishes Nate luck, and that he's got to attend to other matters, but will check in with him at the end of the day at the dog show.