Dog Boy

23

It was slow going adjusting to living normal life again.

Well, as normal as life could be when we were quarantined. A week and a half earlier, before my world had been upended, the time off from school would've be nice maybe - but instead, we were all stuck inside, and to my annoyance, on a snow day that would've been nice to hang out with my friends.

So I just lounged about, noticing that Ashley was avoiding me whenever possible. My mom would peek into my room, asking if the heat was too high, if she had some music on downstairs too loud... or she'd been reading some news article that said that most canis people were very allergic to dark chocolate - but most could eat milk chocolate. I thankfully was able to eat normal chocolate fine - but gosh it made me sad knowing how many little things were going to be different now.

It was just all of those smaller things. I still was getting used to my new body, and having to get comfortable with fur all over me. Grabbing stuff felt weird with my paw-pads - but surprisingly, the extra cushion of my finger pads made it easier to play guitar. I had to change the way I strummed however.

It was just an endless give and take. It was no longer a roller coaster with big highs and big lows, but just a really bumpy road I'd rather not be on. Despite it all, I was done feeling sorry for myself. I was going to stick through this with the stubbornness of a boulder, and live my life no matter what happened. And with that, I made it clear to my family that I wasn't going to fight my canine instincts. 

While some changes I was not very fond of, others I actually did. They were all part of me, and perhaps had always been there, buried deep. I needed to pant, I wanted to wag my tail. I wasn't going to apologize. I knew they found it uncomfortable, but they would have to get used to it.

Dealing with the discomfort of my family was tough though. I felt loneliness in a way I hadn't in a while. I'd felt it while I was cooped up in that patient room at Generation. It felt a bit different now though, where it was hard for my mind to fully process things, because it was such a unique situation. Now I was at home in my own room - and I still felt lonely. 

It was now the Wednesday after I'd gotten back home. Only a few days really, and the quarantine was starting to wear on me. I didn't care if it was super awkward, I unironically wanted to go back to school - and not the awful online homework I was having to do. I wanted to see my friends again.

I knew that an obvious solution to this was to call them and see how they were doing - but I still felt like a high wall of awkwardness stood in front of that. I just... was not ready to talk to Douglas and Wendy, or especially Ted.

Jackie did understand me. Perhaps more than anyone. We'd been through all of this together, and we'd had all those private moments. And now... I felt like I was starting to know even deeper how she felt. I started finding myself imagining what it would be like if Dad discovered a cure... and what it would feel like to not have my tail anymore. To not be able to fully sense the world with my nose and ears. Thinking back to before my transformation... it seemed... dulled.

It wasn't just the reduced senses, it was a feeling somehow that I... felt more right this way. Like in some way before, I'd felt subtly uncomfortable in a way I'd never known. 

When Jackie had first told me she felt this way, it had been so... odd to me. I was in a state of shock, unable to understand why someone would ever want this... but in the days since, as I grew more used to this, I felt the bizarre sensation of actually... liking it. Was this something that was common to all people our age who'd gotten the treatment? Had it altered the neural paths in our developing minds? Or... or were Jackie and I just weird?

I wanted to call her. Wanted to talk to her. But I felt a sort of blankness. I didn't know what to say. When we were trapped together at Generation, in the nightmare of our bodies transforming before our eyes, I felt something in me that wanted to be brave and bold. I wanted to comfort her in her time of need. But now I felt some amount of normal reality returning - and now I had lost that adrenaline boosted sense of action.

Jackie was once again, one of those strange scary people known as "girls" that I didn't know how to talk to, who could reject me. And I hated that. I hated that after all I had gone through with her, after she had obviously felt something for me, I wasn't calling her even just to check up on her. I felt crappy. Had she expected me to call her? If she had, she probably was extremely sad now. She probably thought that I had been weirded out by her, and had tossed her aside the moment I could get away.

Sitting on my bed, I put my face in my hands. I felt so stupid. But now if she felt like I had just tossed her off, calling her now would feel even more awkward. I'd told myself that she'd probably need a day or two of a break from me - but now I had given her four.