What the Dog Knows

I blinked. Where was I now? Why was I not in pain? Nothing but a slight headache. I felt strong, healthy. I didn’t understand. Confused, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remember. I couldn’t recall anything except panic after my Jeep tumbled down the mountainside.

Moments later, I opened my eyes and surveyed my surroundings. What’s wrong with my vision? Some things close up are fuzzy but sharply clear at a distance. That looks like our sofa. Our oriental rug. But they are not the right color. I took a deep breath. Wow, my sense of smell was especially keen. I detected remnants of a previous meal, Steph’s perfume, clean laundry, and Moose’s distinct dog aroma. I was in our house, but I was looking at everything from the wrong angle. What was I doing on the floor?

I tried to rub my forehead but couldn’t. Something was wrong.

I looked at my hand.

Baffled, I didn’t understand. Where was it? I peered closer. It was a dog’s foot. I moved my fingers, and the canine toes wiggled. What the hell?

I lurched erect and looked down. There were two paws where my feet should have been.

When I turned my head, I saw a furry flank. Then squinted my eyes shut. Jeez. This was a helluva nightmare. I never dreamed I was a dog before. I started to move and fell on my face. What is going on? I can’t walk?

With a struggle, I managed to get to my feet. I stepped forward and almost fell again. Finally, I stumbled into the hallway on unsteady legs and stared into the full-length mirror.

Steph’s dog, Moose, stood there, but where was I?

I shook my head. Moose's head moved back and forth.

I raised my foot. Moose’s paw lifted off the floor.

“Damn.” My word came out as a sharp bark.

Holy shit! I was inside Moose. Or was I Moose?

My mind reeled with the realization. I eased toward the mirror and sniffed my reflection. It was cold to the touch, and my nose left a smear. This was not a dream. Not a hallucination. It was real. I was actually inside a dog’s body. No wonder I had trouble walking. My mind was used to operating two legs. Now I had to manage four. My brain hadn’t adjusted to the coordination yet.

I turned back toward the living room, my legs got tangled, and I fell again. Managed to get back to my feet. I concentrated and tried to move one leg at a time. Doing so, I wobbled back into the living room. Now I understood why things had looked so different. Why the colors were wrong. I was looking at everything with a dog’s vision some thirty inches above the floor. Not my usual six feet. And the colors? I read somewhere dogs didn’t see in colors, only black and white. Whoever wrote that was wrong. There were colors, but to my mind, all were in varying shades of blue or a greenish-yellow. Some more intense than others. One thing was an improvement. I could see a wider area. My peripheral vision had improved.

I stared at the now teal-colored couch. I started to hop up on the sofa but decided not to risk it. I sat and thought about my situation. How the hell did I get here? Inside Moose’s body and head? I remembered my accident. My crash over the side of the mountain, but there was no recollection of Steph’s dog. How did he get involved?

With a dog sigh, I lay on the floor and put Moose’s head between his paws. Maybe Steph knows what happened. I would ask her when she got home. I slept.