Half an hour later, maybe an hour, you're still there, huddling in your shirt, trembling, paws-over-forehead, unwilling to go out. Your mind is still racing a mile a minute, telling you the same things on repeat with no reprieve:
* What is going to happen to me? I'm a dog! And not even a big dog, or an adult dog, or a talking dog, or a furry anthro dog. I'm an unremarkable BABY dog! And it's a big, big world outside this tent, I mean, outside this SHIRT! How am I even going to put my clothes on now? They're bigger than I am now! And all I wanted to do was be adorable, and now I'm just a tiny puppy all alone. What is going to happen to me? I'm a dog! ... *
And on and on like that. The only interruption was when you peed all over the inside of the shirt. It still smells like YOU in here, it smells like you A LOT. You couldn't even control it. You were just trembling inside the giant cloth-enclosed space, covering your face and trying to ignore the sounds of the wilderness beyond, when you felt the warmth and wetness beneath you. You aren't even a house-trained puppy! You can't seem to do anything except hope you don't get eaten by something big.
But finally, even the frantic repetitive voice in your head goes silent, as if it's afraid something else might actually hear it. That's because you can hear huge, pounding footsteps drawing closer to your tent. Plod, plod, plod, plod, shaking the ground one after the other. One in front of the other, but not exactly in front of the other, like a left foot and a right foot taking turns. Plod, plod, plod, getting closer! The sunlight trickling through the fabric above you gets wiped by a shadow like a solar eclipse. You huddle yourself more tightly than ever and go as silent as you possibly can. The fate of your tiny cloth-wrapped world is at the mercy of a kaiju! And soon you hear its mighty booming voice:
"Hm, someone left their clothes behind? But what's that whimpering noise inside them?"
Apparently your giant monster is a human woman, talking to herself about something that seems strange to her. And apparently, "as silent as you possibly can" is not very silent at all. She gently lifts the shirt watches you tumble right down out of it.
From your perspective, it was not a gentle matter at all. Your shirt has become a roller coaster! And you don't have any restraints! Your eyes are blinded by the sun and your cute puppy bottom plops down upon the bright green grass. In your shocked state, you look up at the towering figure above you.
"Awww, how sweet!" she says. "But who would leave such a tiny helpless puppy out here hiding in a shirt?" She fumbles through your jeans and digs down in the pockets.
"YAP! YAP! YAP!" you shout, unable to talk, but trying to warn her off anyway.
* Hey, that stuffs mine! Stuff your hands in your OWN pockets, lady! *
"It's alright, sweetie," says the woman, looking to be around 50 to 60 years old. She finds your wallet, sees your ID card, and reads your name out loud. "Well, if this person comes back, then they will just have to come find me if they aren't really abandoning this puppy. And I will have to give them a stern talking-to about being a more responsible pet owner."
She digs a pink notepad out of her purse and jots down a message for whoever owns the clothes. (She has know way of knowing that the PUPPY she's just found actually used to be the human owner!) Then she picks you up in her enormous primate hands and carries you off.
"Oh, aren't you just the sweetest little thing!" she coos, looking up and down your tricolor-coated form. "You look like a little Bernese," she says at last. "Let's go back to mamas house and get you a nice big bowl of water!"
Well, you wanted to be the cutest guy in the world! Apparently you're cute enough to get carried off by this friendly old lady. At least, you really hope she's friendly! You watch your outfit and the wishing well shrinking into the distance behind her; your chances of changing back would seem to be shrinking with them.