You look helplessly at the door knob for a moment, then you use your mouth to turn the handle and run out into the backyard. You leave the door hanging open, and a ripped screen where your new doggy-self bounded through the screen door. It feels great to have grass under your paws, as you cut through the neighbor's bushes and gallop to the park through other people's yards. Mr. Hasket comes out to shout at you for trampling his flowers, and old lady Guernsey throws a flower pot at you as you plough over her camelia tree with a loud snap. As you run, you notice that the color is draining from everything you see. The world is turning monochrome. At the same time all these odors and new smells are filling your senses. Each scent produces an image in your mind, you smell a big dog that you recognize as Tom's mastiff, and then there is the cat odors. Images of Guernsey's cat snowflake, who's often over at your place suddenly come to the fore. You never knew that you'd noticed her scent before, but obviously you must have. Crashing out of the hedge and racing across the park, you smell your master before you see him.