Rover's momentary desire would be satisfied almost instantaneously, as his thumb retracted upwards into a meagre dewclaw and his fingers lost dexterity and clenched together, growing claws just like his toes. He approached his forepaws with equal curiosity, caressing his still-unchanged face with them. He stood up on his four feet, now shifted to a digitigrade contortion, and paced around the room. He could definitely get accustomed to this!
The last to morph was his head. He had already taken note of his enhanced senses of smell and hearing, but the cosmetic changes were absent still. A tingling feeling in his mouth and nose followed. His mouth and nose stretched forward to form a muzzle that covered the bottom of his vision, his teeth sharpening and his nose turning black. He playfully licked his nose with his tongue, moistening it and enhancing its ability to smell, followed by the rows of teeth, taking stock of their sharpness. His fur coat spread to his head, covering his cranium and newly formed snout.
Last to shift were his ears, to the top of his head and flopping forwards. He flung his head a few times, his ears flapping against his head, to his delight. His eyesight become blurry and dull in colour, but that didn't not matter. The barrage of scents invading his sensitive nose would do a much better job of sending his surroundings anyway!
From the kitchen came the caretaker holding the pasta who, in a high-pitched voice, cooed, "Who wants to be a good boy?"
He did not hesitate to reply, "Woof, woof-"
Wait, wants? Isn't he a good boy already? He cocked his head figuring that his human mind, oddly, remained intact, able to discern details like these.
"A sheep farm at the summer home in the suburb awaits you! Gotta get you to work there! Then you'll be a good boy!"
Sheep farm? The spoiled brat, unable to grasp the need to work, cocked his head even further… then it clicked. He was an Australian Shepherd, and what's the job of a shepherd? To herd sheep! He had seen it on television, and despite the joyous faces on the dogs, the constant running looked immensely tedious. He just wanted to stay home and play all day! Perhaps that's why Australian Shepherds are favoured by his father, not for their appearance, but for their utility as work dogs, and it is just about time for him to adjust to this new role in life.
"Gotta make sure my boy is well-fed before his big day!", requested the caretaker, setting the plate of pasta onto the floor. Rover, attracted by the savoury scent of the sauce, did not hesitate, vacating the plate in mere seconds, even if his sense of taste became slightly duller.
Despite his temporary joy, he understood the fate that awaited him. The caretaker picked him up, carrying him in one arm while picking up the dog toys that spontaneously spawned around the room into a plastic bag, and walked out of the door to the car. He wondered which home he is heading to as he is lowered into the backseat of the car and the door slammed beside him.