Sniff sniff sniff. God I’m hungry.
“Kent? Wake up.”
Huh? My eyes open. For a moment, the world is a wash of indistinct light. Then I see a familiar face.
Bitefighter. My loyal buddy and 10 lb. Terrier Extraordinaire.
His fur-ringed eyes search mine, but something’s weird. Something’s OFF.
I look around and see giant stuffed animals. Chairs that were once waist-high now tower over my head. Everything is…
He urgently noses me. “Come on, Kent. We’ve got stuff to do.”
I look down at my hands and see that they’re paws. WHATTHEHOOZIS! I jump up and start screaming, but what comes from my mouth is:
“ARF BARK ARFSKIE MCROWF!”
“What the hell?” I ask Bitefighter in a furious whisper. “Why am I a dog? Whose body is this?”
He looks tersely around, then locks eyes with me. “Calm down! We’re in considerable danger right now. The body you’re inhabiting is that of my best dog friend: Muttocks.”
I spot myself in a full-length mirror across the room. “I look like a brown Ewok.”
“Don’t be racist,” he snaps at me. “Come on; let’s get out of here.”
We exit the room in a four-legged scrabble and I ask him, “Why? Who’s coming to get us?”
“Save your questions for later,” he says, his eyes darting from side to side. We reach the kitchen and he adds, “We need to—“
And then we feel it: BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM; the patter of dozens of giant feet. I look at a glassful of water on a table, and see that it’s plipping and plopping like the puddle in Jurassic Park when the T-Rex came to get his noms on.
Giant shadows crest the corner of the kitchen entrance. Excited voices rise in a hellacious chorus, singing: “We are never, ever, EVER…getting back together! You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends talk to me…But we are never, ever, ever, EVER…getting back together!”
Wait a second, who could be singing one of my secret favorite songs written by my secret love/hate crush? Why am in a dog’s body? Why—
Bitefighter slaps me across the face. “SNAP OUT OF IT KENT! WE NEED TO HIDE!”
We reverse course and start scrambling back towards the bedroom but it’s too late: a giggling legion of tweenage girls swoops down on our furry little bodies and snatches us up. They begin scratching our bellies. Our legs begin twitching in helpless delight.
“Mmm…yeah…OHHH…OH YEAH!” I can’t help myself. My eyelids droop halfway closed and I start making porn noises.
Bitefighter has more discipline; his legs are twitching, but he’s still in control. He snarls furiously at me, “Fenris’s fur-lined shaft! Try and contain yourself you ignoramus!”
I give him the doggy equivalent of a stoner’s smile. “Why? This feels amazing! Why would you ever—”
And then one of the girls shoves a milk bone into my mouth. My eyes go wide as I instinctively crunch down on it. “MMMM!!!” I look over at Bitefighter, delicious crumbles falling from my lips. “This shit is THE BOMB!”
“No!” he yelps, struggling to get out the words through the ecstasy of belly-scratches. “It’s just a ploy! Goddammit Kent…” he squinches his eyes shut as he uses his immense willpower to focus past the surging pleasure of manicured fingers raking against his soft little stomach. “IT’S A TRAP!”
“Admiral Akbar!” I laugh. I lower my voice so that it sounds smooth like Lando’s and reply, “Han will have that shield down. We’ve gotta give him more time!”
Bitefighter’s eyes narrow in rage. “No, you idiot! I’m not trying to trade Star Wars quotes with you; they’ve…they’ve…” he starts losing himself in the pleasure of the belly-scratch and his pupils roll back in his skull, leaving only the whites. “Ohhhh GOOOOODDDD!!!” Porn noises begin erupting from his mouth.
I lose myself in it too, unable to think through a resplendent haze of scratchies and noms. Hands start moving around my body, and I feel my face being stretched and pulled, as well as fabric sliding across my torso. Bitefighter immediately begins screaming and yelling.
“NO! FUCK YOU! THIS TREACHERY WILL NOT STAND! MAY FENRIS EAT YOUR GLITTERY FACES AND—”
“Dude,” I interject. “What’s so bad about a little dress-up? They’re just putting doggy sweaters on us and—”
“—AND RIBBONS!” he screams, near-hysterical. “This is an insult of the highest order!” He looks at our giggling captors and narrows his eyes. “Prepare to feel my world-crushing hate, you filthy gaggle of trollops.”
Then he squinches his eyes shut, bundles his paws into tiny doggy fists, and sprays pee and poop at them in unrestrained torrents. The teenagers scream and recoil, pinching their noses shut and waving the air by their faces.
“Oh god,” one of them gasps. “It smells worse than Blake Johnson’s sperm-infested sock!”
Bitefighter’s eyes pop back open and he scrabbles away from them. He runs over to an eReader laying on the ground and starts clicking frantically at it with his nose and his paws.
“Come on…come on…please let it be here…”
I see the screen flash onto the title page of Echo. He pumps a tiny fist in triumph.
Suddenly I’m back in my comfortable Man Child hovel, in my normal hirsute body, snoozing away with my little buddy Bitefighter. He’s curled into a donut, nose buried in my armpit. I rub his back and whisper, “It’s okay little fella, it was just a dream.”
But then I stiffen. My hand brushes against a drift of ribbon tied to his ears.
It was just a dream…
Or WAS it?
Are you stuck in a terrier body and need to undistort reality? Not a problem! Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book