A scarcity of food drove tiny Nathan to venture farther afield. He explored an expansive vacant lot and wondered if it might possibly be the same lot where his brother had stranded him a week ago.
He guessed at the date, basing his assumption that a week had passed since Christmas since bursts of celebratory fireworks lit up the night sky. Nathan figures many of the neighborhood families, including some of his former friends, were enjoying the fireworks and welcoming a new year while he had to scrounge for enough food to make it through another of the frigid nights.
"This sucks," he said to himself, not for the first time. He thought about trying to make the long trek home but, stopping him each time, was the mere fact he didn't have a clue in what direction he might find home. The world looked so enormous and different from the humble perspective of a tiny white mouse.
He sniffed at a discarded fast-food carton, intrigued by the lingering scents but disappointed to find not a crumb or scrap of food inside the room-sized disposable container. He pushed himself, like he always did, to keep searching. He always found food, but in quantities barely adequate to fuel his rather intensive metabolism.
So involved in his search, he didn't notice the man and the dog entering the lot. The man, as was his custom, unleashed the dog to give his pet an interval of freedom to run, explore and take care of business.
Nathan hid next to the discarded burger box and sized up the man. As a fellow human, he could offer the transformed teenager a second chance. Or, like his own brother had nearly done, he could prove a danger to life and limb.
While he considered his options with the man, he failed to keep track of the dog until he heard the heavy panting directly behind him. He turned and saw the towering canine looking down at him.
Nathan squeaked and tried to run, but he didn't get far before the dog snapped him up in its jaws.
"No!" Nathan squeaked in terror. "Don't eat me!"
The dog sat back on its haunches and spit out the mouse. "Whoa! You can talk!"
Nathan, drenched in canine saliva and smelling of dog food, thanked whatever gods had responded. "Yes, I can talk. I'm not really a mouse, you see."
The dog seemed to laugh. "Oh, my mistake," the dog responded. "I can see now you're a cat."
"No, really," Nathan squeaked, astonished at finding himself engaged in a conversation with a dog. "I'm human, but got changed into a mouse. Please, help me."
"I wanted to eat you," the dog said. "I'm hungry."
"No," Nathan wailed as an explosion of fireworks cast an eerie glow over the scene.
"Well, I could wait," the dog said. "Sometimes I get a treat when we get home from our walk."
"But you can't leave me here," Nathan said.
"I don't plan to leave you," the dog said and snapped Nathan into its mouth again.
The terrified teenager squeaked for rescue until the dog, hampered by a full mouth, admonished him to keep quiet or else he would change his mind and swallow him at once.
Nathan kept quiet.