The sun was nice and warm the next morning, and the dew was cool and moist on Ashmael's back. He wondered why he was sleeping outside. Had his wife thrown him out again?
Then he remembered the nightmare about the genie: he'd finally gotten his hands on the secret of the old man's power, only to lose everything he owned in exchange for the body of a black-mouthed cur. Well, the body and also a place to sleep at the dump. Except for his highly intelligent self being dumb enough to try to catch a genie with the wrong color gem, it was a pretty realistic dream, too: he could smell things through the dogs nose, feel his fuzzy ears flopping around, and even feel some other dogs biting him! He'd never be able to tell anyone too much about this dream, he decided: he'd done unspeakable things, and enjoyed them. Who wants to be know as the guy who dreams about licking himself in a junkyard?
'Did I seriously dream about eating trash?' thought Ashmael. 'Oh, well, I'd better wake up and get to the shop. The butcher's daughter might be stopping by after hours, if I'm lucky.'
That's when Ashmael realized he could still smell human refuse all around him, and it still smelled as vivid and complex as it had in his dream.
'Wait a second, I didn't really sleep at the dump last night, did I?'
Opening his eyes, there was no question about where he was. Just when he was about to chastise himself for sleepwalking out here during a disgusting nightmare, he realized he could still feel stinging on his body from the fight. He could also feel damp fur all around him, and his ears were still dangling against his head and wiggling around occasionally. He stood up with a start, and gulped when he realized he'd reflexively stood up on ALL FOURS rather than upright. There was a fifth extremity, though, and it had already ducked for cover between his hind legs.
"Oh, shit! It was real!" he howled, looking back, unable to get out the words he wanted. He looked down his snout at his body, then at his surroundings. A familiar and comforting scent caught his attention. It was the scent marking from last night, and it could use some refreshing, he thought. Was that all he had to look forward to, other than eating garbage? Ashmael howled again into the morning air, lamenting the fate that had befallen him.