Bill headed to the bathroom, and dug out his shaving kit. He looked at his wooly body, and set the kit down. He ran to the kitchen, and returned with a dog grooming kit. He plugged in the electric hair cutter, and starting at his waist began shearing upward. Chunks of wool covered the bathroom floor. Absently, Bill thought he might have some nice wool socks or a sweater made from the growing mound of wool. He paused as he looked at his defiliated torso. His defined pecs and abs were gone. His trunk was now barrel shaped. His tan had faded to a pasty pink. His knees seemed weak and he fell forward supporting himself with his changing hands on the sink. He looked down at his feet which were now cloven hooves. He looked up to see his stub-covered bare torso filling in with fresh wool. He opened his mouth, but the only sound that came out was "Baaa!"
Bah, he thought, that about summed up his day so far.
The emerging horns on his head curved back on themselves as his jaws began to thrust outward into a muzzle.
"Baa," he bleated and slipped from the sink to the tile floor. He walked out of the bathroom on all fours. His hooves clattering first on the tile and then on the hardwood. He sniffed the air, and wondered what that funky smell was? Then he froze as he realized it was him.