Animal Control

[animal tf, dog tf]

[a dog-catcher punishes negligent dog owners by giving them a few weeks on all fours]

Frank parked his van right next to the beach, far from where the tourists and moms with kids usually gather, and unwrapped his warm lunch: a meatball sub with extra marinara. His first bite left sauce in his mustache. He savored it as he licked his upper lip, then froze as he saw a man park his jeep two spaces away.

Frank’s radio buzzed. “Hey Frank, slow day? Figured you would have busted somebody by now. Shift’s almost over!”

“That’s GOOD news, Gene,” Frank buzzed back. “If the dogcatcher doesn’t catch any dogs, it means people are taking proper care of their animals.”

Frank’s eyes never left the nearby stranger, hopping out of his jeep with a towel over his shoulder. He was blond and absurdly large: he stood as tall as Frank’s van with his body stuffed with big, round muscles. Frank scowled at the muscled man’s tattoos as he stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. A brown pit bull–without a leash–hopped out and walked alongside the big blond to a flat sandy spot where he spread out his towel.

“Although, I guess, there’s still time left in the shift, isn’t there?” Frank buzzed back. He smiled at the warm sauce-spattered wrapper lying across his knees. He still had two-thirds of a meatball sub to enjoy! Of course leash laws were important, but Frank’s “work-life balance” depended on strong boundaries; in other words, a lunch break was a lunch break. Work could wait.

The big blond did a few pushups on the beach while his pit bull joyfully ran circles around him. The pittie ran to the surf, barked as the waves lapped at his paws, then ran back to the bulky blonde, who was now doing crunches. It’s a wonder he can do them at all with that big bulge in his little shorts, Frank scoffed.

A dark-skinned Italian man approached from further down the beach. Frank watched as the blond hopped to his feet, sauntered over, and introduced himself to the pretty-faced stranger. “Would you look at that!” he said aloud, observing the blond’s posture as he raised his muscular arms up behind his head, flexing his hips gently during their conversation. The Italian man, a head shorter than the hulking blond, seemed pleased with the interaction, his eyes scouring the large, bulging body presented before him.

He bit into a juicy meatball, wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, and began to crumple up the sandwich’s wrapper. “One more bite and you’re toast, big guy,” he said as he popped the last of the bread in his mouth. The Italian man stooped down to pet the pit bull, receiving rapid-fire kisses in return. Then the two hunks exchanged numbers before the Italian man walked away.

Frank swallowed the last of his lunch and wiped his hands on his slacks. He patted the utility belt around his waist–seven pouches, each containing vital tools for securing at-large pets–and hopped out of the truck, giving its siren a few pumps to get the attention of the steroid-inflated lunkhead just before he got a serious lesson in proper pet care.

The blond stared at Frank with incredulous eyes as he approached. Frank had a good feeling the big stud hadn’t even noticed “ANIMAL CONTROL” printed on the side of his van until the siren went off. It was too late anyway. Most people violating leash laws claimed they’d only let their pet off for a moment, but the blond didn’t even have one with him.

“You aware of the leash ordinance in this area?” Frank said, adjusting his mirrored sunglasses as he approached with a wide strut.

“Oh, really?” he replied, feigning innocence. “Oh, I didn’t even know.”

“Ignorance is no defense,” Frank said as he started scrawling in a small notebook. “I noticed you don’t have any waste containment bags either.”

“Oh, yeah, well, Ox already went to the bathroom before we came here.”

“You have any idea what kind of penalties you’re looking at?” Frank said, licking his lips. He could still taste spicy sauce.

“Are you serious? Don’t you have something better to do than harass me for no fucking reason?”

“Actually, no I don’t,” Frank said. He removed a small dartgun from his belt. “What’s your name sir?”

“I’m Shane,” he said. “Listen, you know this isn’t a big deal… Just get back in your van and we’ll take off. Don’t make this any worse than it has to be.” Shane crossed his arms, making his meaty pecs stand out. He took a step forward, looming over Frank. The device in Frank’s hands caught his attention. “Wait, are you gonna shoot my dog?” he asked.

“Nope,” Frank said. He pulled the trigger and a moment later, a feather-tipped dart was buried in Frank’s round left pectoral muscle.

“What the… what the FUCK?” Shane said, his face turning red as he struggled–but failed–to pinch the dart out with his thick fingers. “Did you… tranq me?”

“No, not at all,” Frank said. He pulled a treat from one of his belt pouches and stooped down to offer it to the lovable Ox, who seemed unphased by the firing of the gun.

“Get away from him, Ox!” Shane said, but he froze. “Wait… what’s…” He scratched at his bare chest, then his arms. “I’m… fucking… itchy…”

“Yeah, that’s how it starts,” Frank said as he attached a leash to Ox’s collar. The pit bull sat down, pleased to meet Frank and hopeful for more treats.

“Get away from… my dog…” Shane said, his big body swaying as a million tiny changes overcame him. Shane’s ears had sprouted up, an inch higher on each side, and were covered in coarse hair. Canine teeth erupted from Shane’s mouth; his eyes went wide as he realized his jaw was starting to protrude. “Somebody… help me…” he said weakly.

“Nobody’s around,” Frank said. “Just relax. It’s not unpleasant, from what I’ve heard.” He snapped his fingers and Ox walked with him to the van, happily leaping up into one of the cages. Frank gave him another treat before closing fastening the door shut.

Shane was on all fours when Frank returned. “What are you… yo–hoo… roooooooo…” The bodybuilder seemed to be struggling with something, squinting his eyes shut and cringing as if holding something back. It emerged anyway: the man–whose blond hair had been overtaken by shaggy, sandy fur on his head, down his neck and lal over his arms and legs–reared back and let out a shrill howl. He looked shocked to have made such an animal noise.

“I hear,” Frank said as he approached the formerly imposing man, “that the strangest part is your insides shifting around. All your guts moving and changing… feels bizarre, doesn’t it?”

Shane’s eyes darted around wildly. He crawled forward and out of his shorts. Frank stooped down, happy to see that Shane’s imposing size had diminished; a moment ago, Frank was staring into Shane’s mid-chest, but he was down to about half his size now. His muscles were diminishing more rapidly than his height, his limbs slimming down as they became more and more animal.

“Almost finished,” Frank said as he watched the delicious moment when Shane’s hips rotated, leaving him on all fours from now on. Frank produced a treat from his pocket and extended it to Shane, who was now only the size of a lapdog. All of his human traits were gone; everyone would look on the little shaggy mutt as a dog from now on. His nose sniffed inquisitively. Despite himself, Shane crept forward and snatched up the treat.

“That’s your animal senses taking over,” Frank said as he rubbed Shane behind his ears to soothe him. “Your human brain’s in there, but your animal side is running the show. Better to just let the dog side run the show. Fighting it is exhausting.” Frank slid a collar around Shane’s neck. The little dog barked as he realized he was being leashed, but a quick yank calmed him down.

“That’s ENOUGH,” Frank said with a stern tone as he gathered up Shane’s discarded shorts, shoes, wallet, phone and towel. “You’re a DOG now, you hear? You’re gonna be sleeping on the floor and eating out of a bowl and lifting your leg to pee. That’ll teach you to respect the local ordinances, won’t it?”

Shane’s Italian friend returned at that moment, seemingly disappointed when he didn’t see the massive hunk he had just met. Frank smirked as he watched Shane pull on his leash, barking wildly at the stranger he now looked up at.

“Looking for someone?” Frank said as he pulled Shane toward his van.

“Oh, just a friend,” the Italian man said, gently stroking his chest. “I guess he’s gone, though.” He pulled out his phone and started calling. Frank chuckled when the phone, in his pocket, started vibrating. “Cute dog. Is he yours?”

“He was running around the beach unattended,” Frank said as the man stooped down to pet Shane. The panicked dog barked and yelped, then buried his face in the man’s crotch.

“Oh! Wow!” the man said, pushing Shane away. The dog crouched near the ground, his ears flat against his head. Clearly he hadn’t meant to sniff the man like that.

“Sorry about that,” Frank said. “If you like him, you can come adopt him at the pound tomorrow.”

As they walked to the van, Frank snickered at Shane’s predicament. “Did you think your little boytoy was gonna rescue you?” he said as Shane whimpered. “You’re not a person anymore, so you can’t use your good looks or your big muscles–or even your words!--to get yourself out of situations.” He opened the van and unlatched the cage next to Ox, who wagged his tail at the new friend coming his way.

“Get on up there, mutt!” Frank said as he latched the cage. Shane scratched woefully at the door, trying to open it. He yelped as Ox, from the next cage, leaned down to sniff his butt. Shane pressed himself against the far side of his cage, as distant from his own dog–who was now twice his size!--as he could get.

*

The number on Ox’s collar, surprisingly, didn’t call Shane’s phone. Back at the office, Frank got ahold of a man named David who said Ox belonged to him.

“My partner was with him… I can’t seem to reach him on the phone,” David said, shocked, when he arrived. He was muscular too, nowhere near the massive giant Shane had been but clearly a man who took flawless care of his body. He had short dark hair, bright blue eyes and deep dimples that made Frank insanely jealous. Some guys have all the luck, he thought, born looking like angels and gifted with easy lives!

David signed a few forms and pulled out his wallet. “God, I’m so sorry this happened. My partner has a habit of getting… distracted. Not that he ever neglects my dog, but…”

“I’m sure your partner will turn up soon enough,” Frank reassured him as he swiped David’s card to process the fine. “Let’s go back and reunite you with your pup.”

Ox threw himself against his cage as David approached. Shane, in the next cage, turned circles anxiously, whimpering as he saw his own partner walking up. Shane yelped as David passed by without even glancing at him.

“Any interest in adopting this one?” Frank said, slapping his hand on Shane’s cage.

“No, I think one dog is enough for me,” David said as he affixed Ox’s leash.

“You sure? Those two seem to get along.”

Shane was at the front of his cage, whimpering, scratching at the door. His mouth kept opening–trying to form a human word, but all that came out were barks and growls.

“No, thanks,” David said. “Sorry about all this!”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s your partner who owes the apology,” Frank said. Shane let out a forceful bark from his cage. Frank just chuckled in response.

With David gone, Frank turned to the former goliath: “So, Mr. Not-So-Big-Man-Anymore, you’re probably wondering what’s gonna happen to you?” Shane barked back. “Well, y’know, if I wanted, I could bring you out back to get your good and neutered. That would help you stay faithful to that boyfriend of yours! Does he know you’re getting guys’ numbers at the beach while he’s at work all day?”

Shane just whimpered. Frank produced a piece of pepperoni and slid it through the cage. Despite himself, Shane quietly crept up and snatched the treat, chomping it loudly.

“But I’m not a monster,” Frank said. “In a few weeks, my little drug will wear off and you’ll be a man again–just as big and muscley as you used to be. Won’t that be nice!”

Shane chewed on his pepperoni and looked away.

“But in the meantime, I have a buddy I’m going to send you too,” Frank said. “My pal Gene has a nice little program set up for disobedient pups JUST like you… think you can do that? I mean, it should be easy. You’ll be the only one in class with the brain of a man! You can follow a few directions, can’t you pup?”

Frank chuckled as he walked away. “Don’t worry. After Gene’s done, you’ll be the most obedient pup around!”

*

“Sit!” Frank called out. “Good boy! Lie down. Good boy. OKay now, play dead… good boy! Fetch, boy! Go get it! Bring it back! GOOD BOY!”

When Frank had approached his cage that day, he found Shane completely returned to his human form–naked, wearing only a collar–but still curled up in a circle, the way he’d gone to sleep as a dog. But as Frank woke him, it was clear the “brain fog” hadn’t lifted. The big, muscular naked man bounded around on all fours, his huge glutes wiggling, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“So, what do I do with YOU, big man?” Frank said, scratching behind Shane’s ear, his fingers tickling Shane’s soft golden curls. The man’s massive leg kicked furiously as he let out a low groan. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Still have all that doggy sensitivity?” Frank’s fingers tickled down Shane’s rippling back. Shane yelped loudly, the lapped eagerly at Frank’s face.

Human tongues felt VERY different from dog tongues. Frank was used to Shane being a 15 pound dog; now that he was a 300 pound human, the big lug knocked him over easily, licked furiously at his face.

“That’s enough, boy! You’re BIG now! Get back, boy, get back!”

Shane did as he was told, sitting upright with his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stared at Frank with admiration, having bonded with him over the past three weeks.

“Well, I guess we can take this thing off,” Frank said, removing the collar. Shane yelped, then looked around, confused. 

“What… what the…” He cleared his throat. He kept opening his mouth to speak, but giving up before he made a sound.

“Been awhile since you’ve thought in human words, hunh boy?” Frank said as he squatted down on a stool as Shane adjusted to his slowly awakening human mind. Nearby were the bowls Shane had been eating and drinking from for the past two weeks. Shane’s beloved beaver toy was twisted in two nearby, its stuffing scattered from his latest chew session. “It’s okay. It’ll all come back soon.”

Frank went to gather Shane’s things. When he returned, the musclehead was on his feet–good god! Frank had forgotten just how BIG he was as a man!--but still just as confused.

“Put these on,” Frank said, handing over Shane’s shorts. The big man yanked them up his large thighs. “And here you go.” Shane fumbled with the shoes, struggling with the laces, but finally just crammed his sizable feet into them without untying them. “And your phone.”

Shane just stared at it. He exhaled heavily as he took it, as if reclaiming a piece of his humanity. “You feel okay?”

Shane just blinked. “I feel… weird…”

“I think you’re a VERY good boy,” Frank said. Shane’s confusion dissolved, his face overtaken by a dopey smile. “GOOD boy. Sit, boy.” Shane immediately crouched down. He looked around, surprised at his body, seemingly on autopilot.

“Okay, boy, stand.” Shane was back on his feet. “Now you can go, boy. But when people ask you where you’ve been, what are you going to say?”

“I was…” Shane looked confused again. He looked at Frank for direction.

“You were away at school,” Frank said with a smirk, plucking at his mustache. “Just say that. If they ask you too many questions, just flex those big arms, got it?”

Shane blushed, then brought his arms up and gritted his teeth. BOOM, those things swelled up HUGE! Frank couldn’t believe how big this sucker was.

“Good boy!” he said. “You’re not mad at Frank for keeping you here, are you?”

“Oh, no, sir!” Shane said. “God, I’ve… I’ve loved it here.” He looked around at the cage, his face scrunching as he surveyed it from nearly six and a half feet above it all.

“I know how you feel,” Frank said as he placed a hand behind Shane’s neck and guided him out the door. “Feels weird to think of how you were as a dog, right? You feel some of that nasty human shame? It’s too bad, though, right? You never felt shame as a dog, did you?”

“No sir!” Shane said. He smiled wide, his mouth open, his tongue hanging out. His ragged breaths sounded like panting. A dollop of drool started to form on his lower lip.

“Being a dog is REALLY nice,” Frank said. “All you had to do was what you were told… just be a GOOD boy, right?”

“YES SIR!” Shane said excitedly, suddenly bounding forward and licking Frank’s forehead. He immediately blushed and stepped back, surprised at himself.

“You’re gonna do as you’re told now, right?” Frank asked.

“OH yes, yes sir, yes sir I will,” Shane said.

“I just know you’ll go home and be REALLY obedient to that boyfriend of yours, won’t you?”

Shane’s eyes lit up. “Oh, DAVID! Oh gosh, I miss David…”

“No more talking to strangers on the beach?”

“Oh no! I love David,” Shane said.

“GOOD boy. Now you go along now… and if you ever want to be a dog again, you know who to talk to, got it big man?”

Shane wiggled his butt back and forth, then blushed, composed himself and headed for the door.