She!

Chapter 2

I had been a dog for almost 15 years. There's a lot to be said for a dog's life. I was well fed – overfed and fat because of it actually – well cared for, and loved. For a dog, I was also quite old. As a trusted pet of a busy family, I was pretty well able to do all the exploring I wanted to do and was pretty well left to my own devices unless I purposely intruded on my family.

All this hadn't been the case for the majority of my dog life. I'd chosen to be a mid- sized mixed breed with soft, moderate length golden hair. I told you I always look toward my own comfort in all my lives. This type of dog seemed to get the vast majority of the good opportunities in dog life – not kept as a breeder by good pedigree, not so small as to get picked on constantly, not so large only the male society would keep me. I was male but not a fighter.

Unfortunately, soon after my incarnation, I learned that any dog's life on its own in a city is difficult and dangerous. Food is certainly available though of mediocre quality. Water is more difficult though possible. I was attacked by a pack of dogs in one neighborhood. I understood their territoriality but didn't enjoy the flight from them at all. Street kids shot a gun at me and, thanks only to nimble feet, missed.

A dog's life on the big city streets involves a lot of dodging cars and people while having few positive aspects. People ignore dogs in big cities or, worse, actively shun them for fear of disease. The few who pay attention to a dog in these circumstances are living a worse than dog's life themselves, are looking for something to take out their inherent evil on, or are trying to catch and thereby clear the streets of him.

I "belonged" to a derelict for a time. Soon, that was too boring to stand though offering a lot of freedom. I was only barely missed by a dog catcher. Again I was saved by my knowledge of the area and very fast footwork.

That's when I began the trek out of the city.

Man is very ignorant of his surroundings. They live in their cities without realizing that the majority of the activity of the world is not happening there. But on the edge of the enclaves, the world awaits. As soon as I gained the edge of the city, I began to see signs of life again -what men would call "wildlife".

Life was much easier for me in the countryside. With my experience, I am a very good hunter and fed myself easily. The water was much better quality and readily available. The other predators were non-existent at my competitive level. The wolves, bears, and big cats have been systematically erased from the ecology surrounding any city. Even the few small dog packs I met didn't feel impelled to defend their territory from me. I made it known that I was only passing through. There were no human predators.

Unfortunately, a dog has an innate need for companionship that seems, in the domestic varieties, to require human attention. Other dogs are a comfort but not the same thing at all. Beyond this, one of my purposes for being a dog was to investigate human society for another possible life as a man. If I'd wanted to be a wild dog, I would have chosen to be a dingo or coyote, two highly intelligent animal species with no need for humans.

My searches passed up some opportunities. There were several farms but the people on farms look on dogs as work animals. That's too similar to the "wild" life with additional negative requirements. At least, they are negative requirements as far as I'm concerned. Other dogs enjoy the sense of purpose in being a work dog.

Now, a small town is as good a place for a dog as a large city is bad. People's attitudes toward dogs are more positive and they seem to have the time to stop and talk and pet a decent looking dog. Unless they have some special problem, they rarely have the need for dog catchers and if they do, dogs are frequently saved from the animal shelters by those looking for a pet. Food and water from the countryside is nearby if garbage cans and handouts are not available. Even the streets do not taste and smell of rubber and noxious gases and wastes.

It took only two days for me to locate a family. It took that long only because I had to research a little. And I was pretty old already and seeing the change nearing. I was 13 at the time. Two years ago.

I began the effort as, I suppose, all homeless dogs do. I went to a school. I watched the kids as they played and remembered the ones who were the best kids with the fewest nasty traits. Then I began following them home without their knowledge. One young girl had a very abusive father. While he occasionally hit her, I knew he would enjoy having a dog around to abuse with even more relish. A boy I followed disliked dogs and another had some type of allergy that didn't allow for animal hair. One had eight brothers and sisters and I didn't think I could stand that much attention.

Then, finally, I found my family. Once the decision was made, it took only a few minutes to become part of the family. Billy and Marshall, 12 and 10, were easy to convince with a few minutes of doggie play. Minni, 13, thought she was too ladylike and adult for the roughhouse play but was soon spending her time hugging and kissing me.

Mommy was the next to fall to my charms. Luck played a big part in that. The children, of course, had almost immediately charged on their mother. I tried to look as appealing as possible to her, as she sat on the porch next to me, and I think I might have won her over. But at that moment the boys were playing with a ball they'd been throwing for me. As it rolled into the street, a car neared. Marshall headed in a straight line for the ball with no notice of the car. I streaked in front of him and stopped him from running into the path of the car. In fact, even as I made the effort, I could see that the car was going to get past even before the ball rolled into the street. But Mommy didn't see it that way at all.

As I returned to the porch and her high praise, I could see it didn't matter what Daddy thought. I had a home. She started our relationship off right. She took me in the house and gave me half a pound of hamburger. I smiled at her as I ate it and she smiled back.

Though I was sure it wouldn't matter very much, I set out to endear myself to Daddy. With directed intelligence, it is amazingly easy for an animal to be fully accepted by a human. When we were introduced, I raised my hand to shake and he laughed. Later, when it was time to get rid of my wastes, I nudged his hand and went to the back door to bark. When he let me out, I could see him watching me as I streaked to the rear fence, leapt it with ease and took my shit in the adjoining field. Then I jumped the fence again and trotted to his side with my smile intact. He wasn't even going to have to clean up piles in the backyard.

"This is a hell of a dog," he told Mommy when we returned to the living room. I nudged his hand and he absently petted my head. "He's a goddamned Einstein." Thus, I had a name for the first time in this incarnation.

Now only the fine tuning was left.

When it was time for Mommy and Daddy to go to bed, I went with them. Together, they crept into the boys' room, securing them in their covers. I put my paws on the edge of the bed and looked from Mommy's even further sweetened smile to the sleeping boys. She petted me, I'm sure remembering my exploit that afternoon.

I had no problem with the boys. Before their bedtime, I'd played with them and let them wrestle me around without complaint. I was sure I'd be doing a lot of that.

That left only one conquest to be made. Minni. She'd had the opportunity to pet me before Mommy came out but hadn't had more than a few minutes of my time since. Now I intended to make up for that. When Mommy and Daddy tucked Minni in, I edged between them and the side of the bed, baring my teeth in an only partially intimidating manner. They understood. I was appointed her protector on the spot. They told me they'd leave the door open a crack so I could get out of the room if I needed to. But they approved of me curling up on the rug next to her bed.

I waited until the lights went off before I jumped onto the bed and licked Minni's hand. It was a gesture rather than a demand but I was happy when she woke slightly. I lay down beside her and enjoyed her arm across me. Now, I thought, the conquest was complete.

During the next year and a half, I was the perfect dog. I wandered the neighborhood enough to identify all the dangers and interesting things. I chased rabbits and other small animals to supplement my diet from the fields nearby. I had no more opportunity to demonstrate my heroism but I did my duty in protecting the family and being everyone's best friend.

It still amazes me how attuned an animal's senses can be to anything out of the ordinary. There wasn't anything in the family's home I wasn't completely aware of. Everything.

I knew when Mommy and Daddy, Phil and Molly when the kids weren't around, were going to make love to each other before they had agreed to it. I knew when one was ready before the other knew the situation. Sometimes Molly was ready and was going to make the suggestion after they were in bed. Sometimes, when Phil came home from work, I knew he was interested. The day that Phil began his extra-marital affair, I knew that too though, in the two months of its duration, Molly never did.

I also knew when Molly and Minni were to begin their menstrual cycles a day before they did. The day the boys discovered they could have fun by playing with their penises, I knew it as well. When the younger Matthew first began to produce semen, I knew that.

I gave both boys and both women climaxes by licking them and Minni did it for me with her hand and, as she studied at night, with her toes. The boys were afraid they'd get caught and never let me do it again after the first time. Molly let me lick her half a dozen times over the two years I was with them. But it was Minni who made it a regular thing. One week we each came at least once every day.

One notable slumber party, four different girls had orgasms on my tongue with only one refusing. They watched, rapt, as Minni used her fingers to bring on my own, wondering if that was how a boy looks.

Of course, that wasn't the extent of my sex life. My more normal activities in the neighborhood included impregnating a dozen different bitches and having successful sex with three who had been neutered. That is very unusual since neutering does away with sexual desire in most cases. I must be a very desirable dog.

But now I see things on the horizon that require a different set of abilities than I can supply as a dog. Now is the time for a new incarnation.

It was a little after noon, the children in school and Daddy at work. Mommy left me alone in the house with tongue in cheek instructions to take care of things until she came home. In my own way, I intended to do that.

I put my paws on the living room window and watched her leave, hoping that I'd have a couple of hours before she returned.

Concentrating, I became a very small, very short-lived animal buried deep in the fibers of the carpet. I saw no other creatures in my time here though there are thousands of creatures, most of which no human has identified, in each of the many places I've lived out lives.

This was my transition creature and I had no interest in its lifestyle. It was already aged in its life terms as I concentrated again on my next incarnation. This creature I considered in detail.

I've never witnessed my incarnations, as you can imagine. Even if there had been a mirror, I could not watch. There are moments of total disorientation and when those moments pass, it is done. Therefore, I can't tell you what you would have seen if you'd been there.

The reason for my need for concentration is that I have to picture the creature to which I am moving in the most intimate and complete fashion. I've found from experience that any detail left out, is left to caprice and caprice is not often kind.

Thanks to that concentration, when I woke on the floor of the living room, I knew exactly what I would see when I looked into a mirror. That made it no less fascinating to anticipate that experience.

I knew that I looked about 14 years old, that I was five feet tall, that I weighed slightly less than 100 pounds, that I had long blond hair and bright blue eyes, and that I was a fully formed female human. For the first time, I was a human female. And I was excited by the prospect.

I uncurled from a fetal position, rolling onto my back, and felt the strange weight of my breasts moving as if entities of their own. For the first time in a very long time, I didn't feel the weight of male genitals between my legs. I sat up and looked there to see the fluff of pubic hair and the bunched skin that, I knew, covered a hole and various other interesting elements.

Knowing for weeks that I was going to do this, I'd prepared. Blocks away, I had taken a tee-shirt and shorts from a clothesline and secreted them in the field behind the house. Earlier, I had brought them into the backyard. Now I opened the sliding glass door and went to the clothing. Back in the house, I stepped into the shorts and pulled the tee-shirt over my head. Both were too small but I didn't care as long as I had something to cover myself.

I let myself back out of the sliding glass door, leaving it partly open, and climbed over the back fence. I circled around the block, talking to my dog friends as I went, wasting time until Mommy came home. Finally, idling along the sidewalk, I saw her drive up to the house and open the back door of the car. It was full of grocery bags.

I skipped to the side of the car. "Could I help?" I asked. She looked at me, frowned, and looked around as if for a car or other people. Finally she shrugged her shoulders.

"Sure, I guess." She lifted one of the bags, holding the door keys in the other hand, and led the way to the door. I picked up two bags and followed her into the house. "Einstein," she called, looking around the house. "Einstein!" I set the bags on the kitchen table and went back to the car to get two more. She had found the open door and was outside calling the dog. I got the last two bags, shut the car door, and returned to the kitchen.

"Oh," she said. "Thanks. That's a big help."

"That's okay," I said.

"I wonder where that dumb dog went," she said to herself. She looked worried and I was sorry for her feelings of loss. She turned back to me. "I guess you ought to get home." I just looked down at my hands. It was very calculating. I'd thought about the transition a long time.

She was sort of nervous about me now. I could feel it.

"Could I get you something to drink?" I smiled and nodded. "Okay. But then you'll have to head out before your mother starts worrying about you."

"I don't have a mommy," I said.

"Then your daddy." I shook my head.

"Then who's taking care of you. Your aunt or grandmother?" she speculated.

"No. I'm sort of on my own."

"You mean you have no one?"

"Uh huh." I tried to look sad. "But I'm okay. People take care of me sometimes." She looked at me, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"Police? Social workers?"

"Huh uh," I said with emphasis, letting my eyes get big and fearful looking. "People who like me and don't want to put me in an orphanage. Guys mostly," I mumbled. I heard her draw in her breath.

"Well," she said with a note of decision. "If you don't have anyone here, then you can stay for a while, while we look for, ah, something better. More permanent." I looked up at her then with the smile I knew she'd like.