It suddenly struck Ken that in this new world, Jeffy wasn't the only person with this affliction. Ken wanted to see Jeffy interact with others of his kind. Maybe Ken could acquire another dog?
He grinned. He could take Jeffy to the dog park, but those might be just regular dogs. Or at best maybe one or two homo canus? Where to get a bunch together? Was there a club for owners or dog-boys? Ah, the vet! Jeffy's vet had to be skilled in both human and canine anatomy. All the dog boys would be there.
"Jeffy, get your leash and collar. We're going to your doctor's."
Jeffy whimpered. "You haven't changed your mind about having me fixed?" He looked down at his red rod sticking out of his hairy sheath.
"No!" laughed Ken. "I just want to make sure you're healthy, you looked a little pale earlier."
"Oh? I feel fine, Master."
"That's good boy. Now get ready, and you can drive."
"Then you'll have to change me back, only full humans are permitted to drive. Mandatory neutering for dog-morph drivers," Jeffy reminded Ken soberly.
Ken chuckled, "Stand up, Jeffy boy."
Jeffy the hairy doggy man stared at his brother-master uncertainly.
"Right, Stand tall. Jeffy boy!"
The fur, tail, ears and teeth receded into buff Jeff's human form.
He scampered out of the kitchen, and returned wearing blue nylon shorts, sneakers and a lanyard containing his driver's license around his collar. He grabbed the car key off the rack on the wall.
"Thank, you master," Jeffy said jumping up and down in front of Ken with his tongue sticking out. "You never let me drive."
Ken just grinned, and added, "I'll be driving home, and you can stick your head out of the car then. Until drive safely, Jeffy."
Ken didn't want to admit he had no idea where Jeffy's vet's office was. He wondered if they should have made an appointment, as Jeffy turned on to the motorway on ramp.
Jeffy pushed the button to lower Ken's passenger window, but only lowered his own a crack. Jeffy knew he would probably stick his head out, if he opened his window too far. He was sporting major wood. Maybe he should have worn a jockstrap? Too late now. Ken never let him drive. Well, this was the third time since he had gotten his driver's license. He saw the red tail lights and spinning wheels ahead, and pressed the accelerator.
Damn, now Ken understood why he never let Jeffy drive in this world. Dogs chase cars, and so did dogboys. Tailgating was an inadequate word to describe how Jeffy drove. Fortunately, the second off ramp led to the vet's office. Ken was sweating and white knuckled by the time Jeffy pulled into the parking lot.
"Jeffy done good?" Jeffy asked beaming at his brother.
Ken pulled the key out the ignition, and blew on the whistle four times. He led Jeffy out of the car on all fours by his leash and locked the car. Jeffy's sweaty nylon shorts were in Ken's jacket pocket.
The vet's waiting room was filled with people and dog-people. Ken found a seat next to a shirtless buff young man in a black leather jacket and blue jeans. An older overweight man sat next to him. After Ken sat down he noticed the lead running from the buff stud's neck to the older man's hand.
"Heel, Jeffy," Ken ordered. The Great Dane sat on his haunches.
"Nice stud, you got there," the older man said leaning forward across the barechested stud, "You consider studding him?"
"Dad!" exclaimed the barechested youth looking mortified.
"Quiet, Fifi!" the man ordered.
Fifi? mouth Ken.
"Yeah, my boy's canine form is a real bitch. He's a female, and I've been trying to find him a good mate, and your boy looks like he'd fit the bill."