Jared spent most of his morning scratching at an irritating, constantly shifting itch. He tried to dig at the maddening itch with a hind paw, but when that didn't work he twisted his head and bit at his shaggy flanks.
"What the hell?" Jared whimpered. "Does Shaggy have fleas?"
To take his mind off the itching, he made a survey of as much of the yard and carport area that he could reach under the constraints of the lead attached to his collar – the wrong collar, as it so happened. How unlucky did he have to be to swap bodies with Shaggy just for kicks and then almost immediately have the all-important collar removed by his unsuspecting father? He used his nose, which was like a superhero power for him now, to pick up scents from far and wide. The scent of old leather, however, didn't register, even as he picked up the scent of leaf smoke from a nearby yard where a neighbor burned a pile of fallen leaves. As the smell got stronger when the wind shifted, he gave up trying to separate and pinpoint any other smells.
He settled down for a rest in front of his doghouse, feeling morose. "That damn Shaggy," he said. "I should never have listened to that dog. What if I am stuck like this?"
He would have gotten even more frustrated and depressed, but something intervened to provide a break to the monotony of his new furry, itchy existence.
The sound of a car pulling to the curb and a car door slamming caught his attention. None of his family should be home. He heard footsteps before he saw the person, who was carrying a leash in one hand, unlatch the back gate.
"Oh great!" Jared yelped. He had completely forgotten about...