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in Chronivac Version 4.0 by anyone tagged as none

Chronivac Version 4.0

It's Fight or Flight Time

added by Anonymous 2 years ago A O

Poor Mike. Not nearly as clever as he had thought himself to be. Treating the Chronivac as a toy for his amusement hadn't turned out at all as he had planned, other than landing him in canine form as a duplicate of his own pit bull pet. That much had worked.

Now, with one shock after another, he hadn't even been able to enjoy his transformation for even a few seconds before Jake, formerly such a loving if dim bulb of a dog, had gone into full attack mode. After several moments of inconclusive struggle, both dogs lay on the floor, panting, tongues lolled out of their mouths, nostrils flaring as they both sniffed the air, eyes wary and alert for any sudden movement on the other's part.

Maybe, if he kept trying to correct his mistake... He raised his snout and stared up at the table where he had left the device.

Jake growled at the other dog's sudden movement of its head. The other dog's actions seemed so wrong. He didn't do anything right and the failure to observe simple canine norms set Jake's nerves on edge.

Mike, suddenly nervous and submissive, turned away from the table and stared across the room at the doggie door. All of his instincts were practically shouting at him to flee the room when Jake, feeling unreasonably provoked, lunged at him again. Some dogs don't surrender easily in the face of a challenge. Mike, new to his new life, turned, tucked his tail between his legs, and fled ignominiously through the doggie door. Jake, feeling full of himself, launched himself through the exit, as well, in hot pursuit of the interloper, their paws bounding across the soft grass of the lawn. Jake stopped short of the suburban sidewalk and tore up chunks of sod in a display of bravado to intimidate his vanquished foe. Satisfied he had done a worthy job protecting his master's property, the pit bull ignored the cowed intruder and trotted back toward the house.

That left Mike bewildered and uncertain. He needed the Chronivac, but his mind refused to set a paw onto the lawn. His own lawn! He tried to take a few steps back across the boundary between the grass and the pavement.

The mental block remained. Sitting back on his haunches, Mike pondered. He'd wanted to be a dog. He'd counted on dealing with many physical changes. He hadn't really considered the way the canine brain is wired to think.

The other dog had made it quite clear he was canine non grata. His brain had computed that Jake ranked as the alpha dog. Mike's new dog wiring made a simple acknowledgement of that fact and refused to violate the usual doggie norms by returning to his own home.


"Well, this sucks," Mike concluded. What should he do now?


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