Okay, I’ll try it a few times, wait a couple minutes and try again. If nothing happens, I’ll call it a day and go home. He sat there for a moment imagining what it would feel like to be a wounded rabbit in pain. May as well get into the role, he thought. When he felt like he had a grasp of being a rabbit, he cleared his throat and squealed three of four times. It sent a chill up his spine. It sure sounded like an injured animal to him. He waited a couple of minutes, listening for any sound of an approaching animal, but all he heard was the breeze rustling the few remaining leaves that were still on the trees.
He tried a second time, squealing a little more urgently and waited again. Still nothing. I guess I don’t make as good a rabbit as I thought. He was just about to call it quits and go home when he heard a different rustle off to his left. He held his breath and waited until he heard the sound again, this time closer. Something was coming towards him. Should he raise his head and look? What if he came face to face with a bear? What would he do? Stop pretending to be a wounded rabbit and run like hell, he answered his own question.
Then the rustling of the approaching animal stopped. Had it picked up his scent and run off? Only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, he slowly raised his head and looked in the direction of the sound and came face to face with the red wolf standing only ten feet away. The two stared at each other for a second that seemed to stretch out into minutes, both startled by the other. It was the wolf who broke first, running into the thick brush of the woods. TJ stood up to give chase but then stopped. The wolf was faster and could run farther than he could. He’d come out here to see if there was such an animal and not just a figment of an old drunkard’s vivid imagination. He’d confirmed its existence. Now what?
What had Homlin told him? To become a new form, you need a sample of that form. It hadn't made much sense to him at the time. After all, he'd been much younger, but since then he'd done his own research, trying to figure out Homlin's meaning. He thought he'd found the answer in the field of genetics. The key to becoming an animal, be it a human, mammal, bird or whatever, was within each and every cell of that species body hidden away in its DNA. To become a wolf, he would need a sample of the wolf. But what if I can’t get the wolf to slow down long enough for that?
Wolves lived in dens, which were often abandoned holes of other animals. Maybe he could find this wolf's den, and maybe, just maybe, there'd be some part of the wolf left behind that he could use to begin the assimilation process. So, instead of heading in the direction the wolf had run, TJ sniffed around until he picked up the scent of where the wolf had traveled from. Sure enough, it eventually led him back to a hole in the ground where the scent of wolf was strong—very strong, but there was another smell that competed with the wolf's scent; a strong, pungent smell of death.
TJ could feel the hackles on his back. Both scents came from the entryway of the den, so TJ lowered himself and crawled forward. The opening was just barely large enough for the wolf and too small for TJ’s large canine form. However, he could get his head and part of his neck into it. Whatever it was inside was just beyond his reach. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the subdued light. Slowly, he could just make out a small form. Was it a rabbit? No, he’d smelled rabbits before while traipsing around in the woods, and he couldn’t detect anything like that. In fact, the only animal scent he could identify was that of the wolf. He pushed himself further into the hole. Just another inch or two and he could reach the still form with his mouth and drag it out.
Meanwhile, the human part of him felt like it would vomit from the smell. I’m glad I skipped breakfast this morning, he thought. It would certainly be all over the place by now. He took another deep breath, then let it out, trying to shrink his body just a little more. It worked. He felt himself slide forward just enough to grasp the small form. As soon as he had it in his mouth, he backed out of the hole and into the light of day. He dropped the object on the ground and stepped back in shock. It was the decaying carcass of a wolf pup.
He turned away, spitting and gagging in disgust.
Be careful what you wish for because you might just get it. It was one of Kendra’s favorite sayings that had never made much sense to TJ…until now. He stared down at the small body of the decaying wolf pup. How do I know this whole crazy scheme of mine will even work? Homlin hadn’t been all that specific or clear about the process. Just that it helped tremendously to have some part of the form you wanted to assimilate into. And there it was before him, but what was he supposed to do with it? Would it be sufficient to rub it on his dog form? He decided to give it a try. Holding his breath, he nuzzled the partially decomposed carcass, then rubbed his head and neck on it, coming away once again gagging and now smelling like rotten meat.
That’s not going to work, he thought. All I’ve managed to do is make myself smell so bad I’ll be banned from ever entering Allan’s home again. No, he knew what he'd have to do if he had any hope of becoming a wolf. Whatever ability he had to shift from one form to another was not on his skin or fur. It was deep within him. If he were truly committed to adding wolf form to his repertoire, he'd have to take a sample of wolf inside him and the only way he knew to do that was to eat the damn putrid thing. Eat it and then pray he had a strong enough stomach to keep it down so his digestive system could absorb the all-important DNA.
He could feel an inner battle taking place. His canine aspect didn't find the idea all that abhorrent while the human aspect made him gag for the third time. After he finished, a thought came to him. If his canine aspect could stomach the idea of devouring the wolf pup maybe he just needed to wait a while until that part of him took over, then after finishing the task, quickly shift back to human form long enough to become comfortable in that form once again. He could then jog home as a human or shift back to the dog form.
Is it really that important to learn to become a wolf? Maybe he could start with some other form? How about a chicken? He liked chicken and ate it several times a week. Maybe he already had that raw material to make such a shift. So what? Who in the hell wants to become a chicken and end up on someone else’s dinner plate? And for sure, becoming a wolf would have much more practical use when he later became a mercenary for hire. And that’s what this was really about, more than the coolness of being a wolf, there was the practical aspect of it as well.
He could just imagine some terrorist like Song in the mercenary game thinking he’d gotten a jump on TJ the Merc, only to watch as his victim suddenly transformed into a hungry wolf. Yea! Wolves ruled!
TJ studied the putrid carcass. Maybe wolves ruled, but at the moment his human nature was still a little too strong. He walked away before the gagging started again. His plan was risky; no question about it. If he waited too long, he might forget his human form, and he'd be stuck as an oversized Saint Bernard for the rest of his life. But the life of a Merc would be risky as well. He may as well start getting used to taking risks.
It took him a good twenty minutes before he could walk over to the carcass of the wolf pup and sniff it without gagging, and another thirty minutes before he felt his canine aspect strong enough to try biting into it. But once he started, he was determined to eat as much as he could before the gag reflex took over. After all, even dogs had their limits. He managed to get half of it down before he felt it starting to come back up.
That’s it. That will have to be enough, he thought as he backed away from the remains. As he retraced his steps to the stream, he prayed that he'd not just made a fool of himself. Upon reaching the creek, he lapped up as much water as he could hold to wash the taste of rotted meat from his mouth. He just about had his fill when he saw a flicker of motion off to his left. He jerked his head up in time to see a rabbit bounding away. Fresh rabbit would taste far better than rotten wolf, he thought as he took out after the cottontail. Time to find out if they really made that squealing noise. Where had he heard it? He couldn’t remember, and it didn’t seem all that important. His one and only objective at this point
was to catch that damn rabbit.
Lost Dog
1
Rabbits were fast; far faster than he was. He'd have to find his next meal somewhere else, but where? He couldn't remember what besides rabbit he ate. There was that putrid wolf pup, but his stomach hadn't handled that very well. It would be better to stay with food that was fresher in the future. The rabbit had really sent him on a wild chase through the woods. By the time he figured out that he'd never catch the damn thing, he was far from the creek, and it was starting to get dark.
Time to head for home, he thought, then stopped. Home? Where was home? He couldn't remember. Surely, he had someplace that he stayed; somewhere that he slept at the end of the day. Home is where the heart is. What was that supposed to mean? He felt like he had heard that before, but he couldn't imagine where. His mind seemed more muddled than usual, and his memory was virtually nonexistent. He remembered drinking from the creek, the rabbit chase and his attempt to eat the putrid wolf pup, but that was about it. Surely there was more to his past than that. Think. Where had he slept the night before?
As he pondered the question, an image popped into his awareness and along with it a name — Allan. And in the next instant a second image of a log house. Home. Where he’d slept the night before. Allan must be his, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he was Allan’s. In either case, he felt sure Allan would give him something to eat that would taste much better than a putrid wolf pup, and maybe even as good as that rascal rabbit.
It took him close to an hour to figure out which direction home was. During that time he wandered around, occasionally stopping to sniff the air. He felt certain that he'd recognize the home smell once he got close enough to it and he was right. Once sniffed, never forgotten. He headed in the direction of home.
By the time he had the log house in his view, his appetite had grown, and the nauseous feeling of earlier had disappeared. But as he approached the house something didn't feel right. Had he somehow stumbled upon the wrong place? No. The house looked the same and smelled just as he remembered it, but something about his approach felt foreign. He slowed his pace as he drew nearer, a feeling of foreboding slowly mounting as the front porch came in sight. Then the front door opened and out stepped Allan—his alpha dog. Surely he was home after all. As he trotted up the steps to lick Allan's hand, he swore he'd never eat putrid wolf pup ever again.
2
“Mollie? Is that you?” Allan asked as he took a step towards the large dog that was trotting towards him. The dog looked a lot like the Parker’s pregnant bitch that he’d performed a C-section on over a year ago, but this dog was even larger and a male, but given how friendly the dog was acting, it must be one of his patients. The dog bounded up the stairs straight towards him, almost knocking him over as it jumped up on him, the two large paws hitting him squarely in the chest.
“Whoa, boy. Down. Behave yourself,” Allan said as he grabbed the two paws and placed them firmly back on the ground. “Who are you, boy? Are you lost? Where’s your owner?” But even as he asked the questions, he was afraid he already knew the answers. This wasn’t Mollie, but it was her lone surviving pup. The one that he’d taken home that evening and raised not to be a puppy, but to become his son.
“TJ? Is that you? God, you smell awful. What in the world happened?" And how in the hell would he ever explain this to Kendra who was still inside waiting for TJ, the human, to return from his weekend romp in the woods?
“Come on, boy, we’ve got to get you out of sight fast.” He grabbed the large dog by the loose skin at the scruff of its neck and guided him to the storage building in the backyard. The dog seemed so happy to see him that he willingly went with Allan.
“I’m sorry, boy, but you’ll need to stay here for just a little while. As soon as I get rid of Kendra, I’ll come back out and…” And what? What in the hell would he do then? He’d have to figure that one out a little later. First, he had to send Kendra on her way.
3
Allan had suspected all along that TJ could turn himself back into dog form. After all, he’d seen the boy’s footprints change to those of a dog when he’d run away from home and had later turned up at Homlin’s preserve. Those suspicions were now confirmed, but something else must be going on. Why would TJ run the risk of being discovered in this way by returning home in his canine form…unless he had become stuck in that form?
In which case it was up to Allan to help him remember his true form, which would take time. Allan started by calling his receptionist.
“I know this is spur of the moment, but I’m going away for a few days. Please reschedule my appointments and contact Dr. Wade across town and ask him to check on my cases. I’ve done it for him a few times, so he owes me a favor. Also, let Kendra know I won’t need her until I return.”
“Are you okay?” Donna asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be in touch,” Allan said and then hung up to avoid any other questions.
Now at least I have a little time to figure this out, he thought. He knew Pat was attending a conference in Nashville and wouldn’t be back until at least the middle of next week. That gave him three or four days to help TJ remember.
After bathing the dog to remove the putrid odor, he brought the giant dog in from the storage room and placed him back in TJ's bedroom.
“This is your room, TJ. Remember?” Allan spoke as though talking directly to his son, though it felt odd doing so. He watched as the dog sniffed around the room, stopping at each piece of furniture. I just hope he doesn’t decide to claim his territory by lifting his leg on everything, Allan thought, chuckling.
“Are you hungry, boy…I mean TJ?" Allan corrected himself. "I'll fix us some dinner in just a little while." But first, it was essential to start the imprinting process that he'd used before and pray it would work again.
He went throughout the house collecting every picture he could find of his son, Todd, and the few pictures he had of TJ he'd started keeping a photo album. He placed them around TJ's room on every flat surface. "This is you, TJ. I think you may have forgotten, but this is your true form. You're human. Remember?"
The dog sat in the middle of the floor and looked at him, cocking its head from side to side.
“Remember? This is your room. You’re my son. You enjoy eating Cheerios by the boxful, and…and Kendra and Mimi are your friends. You must remember them, right?”
But the dog continued to stare at him, cocking his head and whining softly.
Oh boy, this isn’t going to be easy, Allan thought. And what if this wasn’t TJ after all? What if this was just some stray dog with a particularly friendly disposition and TJ was out there in the woods, maybe hurt or worse?
No, I can’t start doubting myself now. If I want TJ to remember his true form, I have to start by believing that this is him, and doing everything I can to help him. He squared his shoulders and went to see if he could find any other pictures, and on the way through the kitchen stopped and poured a big bowl of Cheerios, which he took back to feed to the dog.
This continued for the next three days without any sign it was working. Allan even debated calling Kendra to come over and help but decided against it. She'd been so understanding of TJ's rapid growth, but he was pretty sure she'd freak out to learn of the boy's shapeshifting abilities.
On the third night, Allan stepped into TJ's room to find the dog sleeping on the floor. Allan looked around the room at the dozens of photos of TJ at different ages. As far as he could tell, the dog hadn't paid the first iota of attention to them. Noticing the door to TJ's closet, he entered the walk-in closet to see if he could find anything else that might initiate the remembering process, but all he found was the clutter of a young boy; shoes were strewn around as well as a pile of old clothes in need of washing.
It struck him as funny that a boy could do such a good job of maintaining a clean bedroom but that the habit didn’t extend to his closet. He’d have to remember to bundle up the dirty clothes and wash the
m tomorrow before they started to mildew.
As he returned to the bedroom, Allan noticed the dog was awake and was staring at him, its tail slowly wagging. He walked over and sat down beside it and rubbed behind its ear. “What are we going to do, TJ? Am I going to lose you for a second time and have to settle for a loyal canine companion?”
And how would he explain all this to Pat, who was due to arrive tomorrow afternoon? Talk about someone freaking out. This would likely be the last straw for her. Allan continued to sit with the dog for several minutes before finally standing up.
“Okay, TJ. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The dog thumped its tail on the carpet and rested its massive head on its paws.
4
After the friendly man had left, the dog continued to lie on the floor, dozing off and on. He wished the man had thought to bring him another bowl of those sweet, crispy treats, but he guessed he'd have to wait until morning for more.
He lifted his head and looked around on the off chance he’d missed a crumb or two even though he knew better. As he did so, his eyes fell on the second door that the man had used earlier and left cracked open. Wonder what’s in there? Could there be something good to eat? Worth checking out. He slowly stood up and stretched before walking over to the closet door. He nuzzled it open with his nose and stepped inside, taking a couple deep breaths in the hopes of smelling the sweet treats or anything else to satisfy his hunger pangs, but he didn't detect anything edible. He did, however, pick up the pungent odor of another human. He lowered his head and sniffed at the pile of clothes. Yep, there it was…strong…and strangely familiar. Did he know this other human? It felt like he did, or at least that he should recognize him. In fact, the smell was so strong and so familiar he couldn't understand why he couldn't put a face or a name…wait. Suddenly a face did pop before him. One he'd seen for the past few days all around him. This pile must belong to the boy in the pictures, and now he remembered he liked that boy very much.
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