As a stop-gap measure, to gain his liberty from the pound, Frank could see worst things than getting adopted by the Latino stud in a police office's uniform. He knew he should be trying his best to get back home and to his boyfriend, Xander, but any port in a storm...
The muscular, stocky Rottweiler melted when the office stepped closer and scratched behind his ears. "Oh fuck, that feels good," Frank thought.
"I think he will make a good dog for me," Morales decided, turning to the shelter worker.
"Let's go fill out the paperwork, and then you can come back and claim him."
Frank watched with new eyes as the officer and the worker left him alone to tend to the paperwork.
Frank listened and counted himself fortunate. He needed time... and a safe space. If he could gain those things, he could get back to Xander. And then...
And then he didn't really know what to do. He still didn't understand how he had suddenly switched places with his own dog. Maybe the key was Rex. He wondered what his former dog, now in his human body, was doing...