🐾 It's A Doggone Travesty 🐾

Chapter I

Ryan can remember what it was like to not care about the world, once.

It was back when he was younger, like really young, not even like 5 years old. He and his older brother, Jake, loved to chase eachother in the wheat fields near their old home in Hermosillo. Sure, they technically weren't supposed to be there, but they still went anyway.

He can still remember the ant bites that barely stung, the grass rash that didn't string, the air underneath him that shot through his stomach every time he jumped to look over the downing gold to find Jake's head. That field was their paradise.

It only ended when the farmer came chasing after them one day when they thought he wasn't home. They ran, of course they ran, the shouting in Spanish scaring them back over their side of the fence, but Jake ended up shot in the leg by the dude's rifle and life as they knew it was over in a flash, Mom not wanting them to get hurt again.

Ryan did his best to protest, even saying that they could give him the blame and he'd go without treats and everything, but his father sat him down late when the sun was low int he Sonora's before he explained to him that he couldn't risk their lives - not when they were the last of their kind.

Their kind. God, it sounded so alien. As a kid, Ryan never really got it. It never really hit him like his parents most likely hoped it would. Their kind. It was like a spit in the face. Most people would think he was talking about being Hispanic if he even mentioned it on the fly (which he has, on accident), but it would be far from the actual truth.

No, the real reason Ryan hates those words is because, it's true. He has a kind. A different kind. The straight-up truth is that Ryan Bergara, Human Disaster - isn't actually human at all. Ryan Bergara is actually a full blown fucking dog. Not a werewolf (shut up about mythical creatures already!), just your plain run-of-the-mill dog. Who happens to be able somehow to become bipedal and shift into a human form.

Yeah, life's complicated.

As far as he knows, according to his parents, Ryan's personal hell started way back with his grandparents, who were victims of the Guatemala Syphilis Experiments. Apparently, when being part of the people who were lucky enough to be treated, the US used dog DNA to make an experimental cure for the Syphilis and boom, made hybrids who didn't know they were hybrids until suddenly, they kept transforming into dogs.

This, of course, caused a lot of panic among the people who were running the experiment as well as the unwilling subjects and the US - who seemingly realized just how much they fucked up - ended the experiments in 1948 to cover up the new operation taking place to catch all the hybrids before they could escape.

However, somehow, Ryan's grandparents managed to get out safely with some of the other hybrids and moved up from Guatemala to the mainland part of Mexico, where they made a community of dog people. That was where his grandparents learn to control their new abilities, where his father was born and raised, where his mother had been brought to be blessed and at first, where he and Jake were supposed to be raised as well.

However, thanks to Jake catching a stray bullet (that he still has the scar of by the way, unshifted or shifted), both his parents become overprotective and completely intent on shattering his paradise completely, regardless of his thoughts. So it shouldn't have been such a shock when they told him they were packing up and moving up to the US when he came home from his second day of attending Jake's big school.

Ryan can barely remember what was said, but he knows he and Jake were silent the whole road trip which should have really been a sign to their parents that this was the worst possible idea ever, but it never stopped them from going over the border cause fast forward almost 20 years and here he is, running his own company in California and pretending his skin doesn't itch like meth addict trying to jump out of his skin.