No matter how loudly or how desperately he brayed to the whole world, Jeff couldn't get people to pay him the least attention. If the veterinarian couldn't even see the truth, what hope did he have?
Thinking of how he had trapped himself in this horrible form haunted him until he felt extremely claustrophobic. The very walls of the compound that currently housed him seemed to close oppressively around him. Once he realized, sadly, that his loud, uncouth braying wouldn't bring the vet or the keeper back, Jeff lowered his head and examined the offerings that had been left for him. A couple of scoops of some sort of nuggets. He sniffed of them and didn't detect anything in the least appetizing. He snorted, a sound produced from his growing sense of defeat, and looked to the water trough.
He was thirsty. Depriving himself of food and water would do him no good. He lowered his snout into the water, opened his mouth, and began to drink the water from the trough. The sun had warmed the water, and he saw that, in addition to leaves and litter that had made their way into the trough, some insects had fallen into the water and drowned. Refreshed by the water, he moved his hooves and stood in front of the other trough with the food. He took his first mouthful, chewing from side to side, and decided that the food didn't taste all that bad. It wasn't the taste sensation of a chocolate brownie or a sausage pizza, but it filled his stomach. Well, almost. He had eaten out the measured supply of feed before he even realized it.
"That's all!" Jeff huffed and snorted.
He remembered the vet describing him as unhealthy and grossly overweight and ordering the keeper to put him on a strict diet. "But I'm still hungry!" He forgot and tried to say the words aloud. "Hee-Haw!"
The sound bothered him. Why can't I make any other sound?
"Hee-Hawww!" Jeff deliberately tried to vary the vocalization, but no matter what he attempted, he uttered "Hee-Haw" over and over, each time hating the way the awful sound got carried with crystal clarity to his huge, upright, furry ears.
The sound came close to making him feel like an animal, which was enough to prompt him to shut up.
"I'm still human," he thought to himself. So far, nothing he had done made him feel like the animal he resembled. He would eat the food and drink the water from a trough because he didn't want to starve or die from thirst. It didn't mean he was an animal.
As his thoughts dwelled on his attempt to project an image of his human self, a buzzing noise around his left ear interrupted. The noise traveled around his head, hovering near his right ear. Then he felt something tickle his nose. He hated having such poor vision. He could hear the buzzing fly, but he couldn't see it, even though it was right on his nose.
A second later, he definitely felt it when the biting insect bit and drew blood. He reacted in shock and pain. "Hee-Haw! Hee-Haw!" He shook his head and tried to dislodge the fly. The insect got dislodged, but it returned and continue to hover near his head, tormenting him. He didn't have any hands he could have used to swat away the irritating insect.
The fly, as flies are prone, flew to the regions of Jeff's new body that smelled most appealing, which resulted in the buzzing fly concentrating its torments on his hind region. In reflex, not from conscious thought, his tail flicked and did disturb the insect. It flew off and left Jeff alone for a short interval.
It has been the oddest sensation to have his tail flex and move. Jeff tried to extend his thoughts on his tail to see if he would willingly move it like he used to move an arm or leg. His tail remained hanging down toward the ground. He didn't apparently have the right connection to make the tail flick and swish at his whim.
He was still wondering what to do with himself when his tail suddenly swung into motion on its own, taking Jeff by surprise. At first, he thought the aggravating fly might have returned. Then he heard the wet plops fall to the ground as he dropped a load of donkey manure. Within seconds, his nostrils picked up the offensive odor. He turned, horror-struck, and stared at the hazy deposits on the ground within the compound. Now, he felt like an animal. Unable to control such a simple, routine body function struck him as the ultimate evidence that, despite his need to cling to his humanity, the destruction of the Chronivac meant there wasn't any going back without some extraordinary human or divine intervention.
There was worse to come. He moved off to another part of the compound to avoid both the stench and sight of the donkey manure he had produced. He was standing, not really even thinking. His thoughts remained too horrified at what his new body had just done to actively focus on anything else. The sound of water pouring to the ground sounded in his ears.
He puzzled for a moment before he realized that he was the source of the sound. A steady stream of yellow donkey piss, not water, issued from the tip of his awkwardly enormous cock. He hadn't even realized he needed to pee. His body just did so on its own when the need presented itself.
A mortified Jeff realized that the urine falling on the ground splattered onto the fur covering his lower legs while the ground soaked most, but not all of it, to produce a foul-smelling yellow puddle.
This was his life. He remained hungry, but knew the keepers would never feed him enough in their quest to reduce his weight. He was thirsty, but he almost dreading drinking more lest he have to release more of the water later as urine.
He hung his head low, too tired, too demoralized, to even manage a single bray. His thoughts focused exclusively on what those who suffer bad luck have uttered throughout the ages. "It isn't fair! It's not fair!"