But I'm Not Supposed To Be a Dog!

- 6 -

As they ambled back to the car, Henry kept snuffling the bags through the plastic holes of the cart. So many delicious smells! He loved the pet store, even if they did have horrible, purple, sparkly leashes.

He found Abby's confusion over dog food funny. Her eyes had glazed over, almost frightened. Henry had let his nose guide him. He always did like salmon. It reminded him of dinners she used to cook for him, like poached salmon with cream sauce and capers.

When Abby had told him he wasn't a cheap date, he tried to recall his dates with her. Where had he taken her? What did they do? Did they have fun? He struggled to come up with a single memory with her smiling face in it, but came up empty. Why couldn't he remember? Was he mistaken? Was she perhaps not the girl he thought she was?

Impossible. The scent had triggered something visceral, something deep within him. She had to be the right girl. Darn this dog brain! He would have to try again later. For now, he would look forward to that massive, juicy bone that would soon be his.

***

Arriving at Abby's apartment confirmed it. He'd been there before, many times. That quirky lamp shaped like a flower was still there. The comfy brown recliner was still in the corner. That ugly plaid couch was still there, though he had no idea why. It was worn thin in some places, and had wine stains that she probably thought were covered by the black pattern. On the bright side, he remembered making out on that couch.

A sudden urge struck Henry. He sat down, lifted his leg, and curled his head around. Something was missing, though. A body part maybe. What had he come back here to do?

And then he remembered.

Wait, where are they? He nosed around the flabby skin around the base of his tail. They're supposed to be here! The shining symbol of his manhood—okay maybe not shining. They were a little too hairy to be shining—but the undisputed symbols of his manhood were... missing!

Henry howled in frustration at discovering that he, or at least his dog body, had been neutered. How could anyone be so cruel? If the dog had been naughty, castration seemed a little extreme. How could he look anyone in the eye? They would take one look at his sagging, empty sac and immediately know he was less of a man. Dog. Whatever.

Henry was so angry he did the first thing that came to mind. He sank his teeth into that god-awful couch.

I'd like to sink my teeth into some votes! :D