Every so often, Jared cocked his head and scanned the upper branches of the large oak tree in the corner of the yard. He produced a low growl when he saw the gray, bushy-tailed rodent scampering nimbly in the branches. He had surprised the squirrel earlier at one of his mom's bird-feeders. His canine instincts surfaced and he had barked and chased the squirrel all the way to the oak, only to have the infuriating rodent climb out of reach in the upper branches. After some pointless barking and circling of the tree, he finally lost interest and returned to his resting spot in front of his doghouse, but the squirrel continued to torment him with periodic chitters and squeaks easily heard by his sensitive ears.
Jared entertained himself with a fantasy of capturing the small, furry offender and meting out some rough justice for its taunts. He thought, too, that Mom would be proud of his defending her bird-feeder from the rodent's impudent raids. This was his yard! The squirrel had some nerve thinking that—
Jared's mental anti-squirrel tirade ended abruptly when he heard young master's voice, as well as another unfamiliar voice. The two boys entered the back yard at the gate, carrying their backpacks as they arrived home from school. A joyful "woof" caused Kevin to make a slight detour. As he walked toward the doghouse, his brother met him halfway, bounding to a stop and sitting.
"Charlie, this is Shaggy," Kevin said by way of introduction.
Jared detected a strange scent on Charlie. He didn't care for it.
"This is your dog?" Charlie asked with disbelief. "He's incredible. Look at how furry he is!"
"Yea, that's why we named him Shaggy," Kevin said.
"My mom doesn't like dogs," Charlie said, adding in a wistful voice, "so we have cats."
C-A-T. Jared pondered this basic word. C-A-T. The spelling itself seemed familiar, as perhaps it should since it had been one of the first words he had ever learned to spell. His mind flashed a helpful image of a feline, and he felt the same urge to give chase that he had experienced upon surprising the squirrel at the feeder. That was a C-A-T he realized. He didn't care for cats, which helped explain that unpleasant scent that clung to his young master's friend.
Jared whined in frustration. "Brother, not master. Kevin brother, not master." With his human vocabulary gradually more stunted, organizational and productive though processes became more difficult. It didn't help when his mind wanted to think of Kevin as his human master, not his kid brother.
Kevin noted the frustrating whining. "Something wrong, boy?"
Jared felt like he could cry from sheer impotent fury. B-O-Y. He wasn't a boy. That was the problem. He was a dog.
"I can't play right now, boy," Kevin said. "Charlie and I have a big project for school."
Jared edited his conclusions. Yes, he was a dog, now, but he was supposed to be a boy. He whimpered. "Please, please, please."
"Sorry, boy," Kevin said again. "Jared should be home from school soon. He will play with you."
He felt hopeful, but then realized Jared was the impostor. Arf! Arf! "Me Jared?"
Kevin petted Shaggy's head, but then motioned for Charlie to follow him to the house. "That is such a cool dog!" Charlie exclaimed as they entered the back door. "You're so lucky!"
D-O-G. He wasn't a dog, not really. Why could no member of his family see that?
He was still pondering his question when Kevin, unexpectedly, returned. "You have to promise to be good, boy," his brother said as he unfastened his collar from the lead. Holding the collar in his hand, Kevin led Jared across the lawn and through the back door into the house. "If you behave, you can hang out with Charlie and me as we work on our project," his brother said.
Jared felt his hindquarters do a jubilant shimmy of agreement and gratitude. Once they climbed the stairs, Charlie and Kevin sprawled on the bed in Kev's room. Kevin patted the bed once, and his brother leaped onto the covers and sprawled out between the two boys. Their initial work consisted of brainstorming ideas for an entry for the upcoming science fair. Jared listened for a short time, but ideas for science projects for a junior high science fair sounded far too complicated and bored him quickly.
Something else kept him distracted. Charlie began to absently scratch Jared behind his ears. As the boy dug his fingers into the crease of shaggy fur behind each ear, Jared experienced waves of bliss. After so long scratching one ear, Charlie alternated and began scratching behind the other ear.
"Oh, I think Shaggy loves that, by the way," Kevin said.
Charlie laughed. "I know he does," the boy replied. "Look at him drool!"
Sure enough, a puddle of dog saliva had produced a wet stain on the green cover over Kevin's bed. Both boys laughed, but Jared felt humiliated as his kid brother and his friend laughed at him. Kevin was supposed to look up to him. He was the older brother, the role model.
He whined and looked at Kevin with pleading eyes obscured by a fringe of shaggy fur. "Don't laugh. Me Jared."
Kevin rubbed the fur at the scruff of Jared's neck. "No worries, boy," he told his dog.
Charlie resumed his vigorous scratching behind Jared's ears. It felt so good Jared wanted it to last forever, and he wouldn't have to think about the tricky sheepdog that had tricked him into dog form. It would have been better if Charlie's hands didn't reek of cat, but he was willing to overlook that, too, for the sake of enjoying the blissful numbness that came with the relaxing feelings from the scratching. He could let go of bad thoughts. B-A-D.
He drooled some more, but he didn't care. He would worry about that squirrel later and...
There was something else he needed to do. What was it?
Charlie switched to the other ear, scratching it and sending out good sensations through Jared's dog body.