For Freddie's parents, sitting in their living room after dinner, knowing the year was 2019, taking a leap to believe in magic rings with the capacity of turning their 17-year-old son into a German shepherd left them somewhat mentally and emotionally exhausted.
"I hope Freddie's all right staying in the backyard," his mother said.
"We've been over this," his father said. "He's an 80-pound dog. He can't stay in the house."
"He didn't seem to like that dog food that you bought," she said, recalling the way that Freddie reacted to his dinner being served in a stainless steel bowl.
"Probably just tired," his dad said, editing his first response, which had almost been "I'm sure he will get used to it."
"I'm sure Michael will find a way to use the ring that will solve everything."
"He has a head on his shoulder," dad agreed with her. "I still can't understand what Freddie was doing messing with that ring in the first place."
"And he did his business OK when you walked him?"
Dad put his magazine down with a grimace twisting his face at the disagreeable recollection of attaching a collar and leash around Freddie's neck for the necessary after-dinner stroll to the end of the block. "I told you he did," he said with an edge of impatience. "I'm going upstairs."
"With our work schedule, we may have to hire a dog walker..."
Dad exhaled loudly. "Could we discuss that in the morning? If he changes back overnight, it will be a moot point, won't it?"
"I suppose you're right."
Dad dutifully kissed her and walked upstairs.
Meanwhile, in the backyard, Freddie used his front paws to rake dirt from the fence that separated their yard from the one next door. Her owners had put Ellie out for the night, and the teasing Australian shepherd had played along the fence until she had driven the transformed teenager to distraction. He had whined and whimpered, following her on his side of the fence, until he noticed a small dip in the ground. If he widened the gap, perhaps he could squeeze under the fence and join her. He didn't understand why he needed to join her, but the urge proved absolutely overwhelming.
In addition, digging helped take his mind off his parents and the way they were so calmly dealing with the change in him. Buying him dog food, putting a collar on him, walking him, cleaning up after him, and exiling him from the house had been a matter of fundamental disagreement, at least on Freddie's part.
He hadn't made much progress with his digging, though, when someone put their head out a door and whistled loudly. His ears perked up, as did Ellie's, before she turned and raced into the house with her owner.
"Why does she get to stay inside and not me?" Freddie asked sadly. He stopped digging and lingered for a short time, hoping she would return.
Ellie didn't return and when she didn't, Freddie felt raw and out of sorts. He dropped onto his furry belly in the grass and looked toward his house. Moments later, the lights went out. He did something totally unexpected then. Throwing back his head and looking toward the stars, he howled. The primal sound helped get something out of his system. With nothing better to do, he made his way to the blanket his mother had left on the carport and, circling it a few times, settled down for a long night's sleep.