Society more or less unravelled towards the waning days of the pandemic.

Just as the world began to sputter back to life, humanity now faced widespread inter-species mutations. My own transformation into a white-furred wolf was almost pleasing, minus the sharp pains in my head as my skull made the transition during the month of March 2022.

The company I worked for simply…vanished. The internet flickered, went dark for a few days and then sputtered back to life in a reduced version of Before. News was hard to come by. The New York Times hadn’t been updated in over a week at that point. Government websites pleaded with their citizens to remain calm. Food distribution remained remarkably the same with two notable exceptions: no money needed to be exchanged and severe rations were imposed at the stores.

Within days, we were informed of sweeping new laws. It was illegal to charge rent. Mortgages and debt were eliminated. Banks were assimilated into the Ministry of Finance. The use of currency was suspended. Utilities and transportation networks were nationalized. Property ownership was abolished along with any weapon designed to kill another person.

Communication remained spotty, however. Messages to friends via the normal apps remained unsent. My phone simply refused to make calls. Most days I sat in my apartment watching looters break windows in the shops across the street. One day, there were no more looters. Everything had been carried off.

April revealed itself to be a warmer one than usual. I considered a trip to the grocery store but my full pantry made me think of others and what they might need instead of this fortunate wolf. I did need more shampoo, though. While my showers became less frequent because of my newly-furred body, I was starting to feel a bit rank. After a quick body rinse, I threw on a pair of shorts (slipping my tail through a hastily-cut hole beneath where the belt sits) and stepped into my flip flops. I grinned at the baseball caps hanging in my front closet. No longer would they fit my canine head – nor most anyone else’s these days. Just another object which is no longer needed.

I snatched my backpack from the hook by the door and left.

Taking the stairs, I wondered if shampoo was still even being made. Whatever stock that was lying around surely has been pilfered by now. Mentally, I shrugged it off. This little journey was more about discovery than shopping.

My neighbourhood baked in the heat of the afternoon sun. Happy that I’d gone shirtless, I was extra grateful for my white fur.

Before everything seemed to disintegrate but after folks started turning into animal hybrids, media was filled with everyone’s reaction to their transformations. As expected, some were mortified. Others went into shock. The vast majority of former-humans, it seemed, lost their collective minds. Countries quickly fell into chaos before the signal went dark.

Humans being what they are, they needed to know what caused this. Initially, it was thought that the COVID-19 vaccines had triggered this sped-up evolution. Then, it became rumour. Some folks hadn’t been vaccinated yet transformation occurred anyway. Nothing became conclusive. The lights were already going out on the Old World.

I held my phone up into the air as I stepped into the park. No signal. No surprise. The government did warn that infrastructure was not going to be working as expected for some time. They put out a call for citizens to help. My coding experience, while limited, would come in handy. I applied last week. Anything to break up the boredom and help get things on track was going to be good for my mental health. Two years of being sequestered at home with only a few months of actual work-from-home was testing my sanity. Being turned into a wolf-thing didn’t bother me as much as it would have back in say, 2019. It was actually something interesting for once.

As I sat on the unkempt lawn of the park, I filled my lungs with a deep breath. No more masks. No more worrying about getting hooked up to a ventilator. Things fell apart, but the dread is gone.

There were others in the park as well. Two taller dog-humans, both resplendent in short brown fur, watched as their children…er, pups…played on a jungle gym. A male boar, his naked gut pointed towards the sky, napped on a towel. Two police officers, a jaguar and a lynx, leaned against a dirty patrol car, taking in the scene from behind their dark Ray-Bans. It was weird how…normal this all seemed.

I was reminded how Darwin was often misunderstood. He actually meant that it was the most-adaptable that survive, not the strongest.

Part of this new normal meant that I was now panting in the hot sun. Time to seek some shade. I padded over to the water fountain and was delighted it still worked. After two years of viral fears, someone somewhere had the smarts to turn the water back on in the parks. I lapped up the cool water sloppily, happy at my mastery of newfound skills around drinking liquids.

Heading out of the park and down a residential street, I absentmindedly tried to whistle, then chuckled to myself. Human lips could do that. Doggo lips can’t. I let out a quiet bark instead. I was always a ‘dog person’ in the Before, so being a wolf now was kinda fun.

I was struck by how quiet everything was. Hardly a soul around. Not a single vehicle moved. No cyclists. A few pedestrians here and there. It was just me and the sounds of the leaves rustling in the light breeze. I felt grateful. My hearing was ten times more sensitive than when I was human. Any loud noises made me instantly upset, piercing my brain like a knife. Maybe that’s why it was so quiet. Everyone has enhanced hearing now.

Approaching an intersection with a commercial street, I kept my eyes on the sidewalk. Shards of glass from broken windows littered the concrete. An eerie stillness haunted each of the former shops and restaurants along the avenue. Public health warnings about wearing masks were still affixed to a few of the shattered panes, the tape clumsily holding the shards together. It felt like a post-apocalyptic film, minus the fiction.

And minus the drama, it seemed. The street was mainly deserted. The few others I saw seemed to be doing the same thing as I was: exploring.

My stomach growled. Instantly, I wanted nothing more than a burger from Wendy’s. Or a chicken sandwich from Popeye’s. Neither has been available for over a month, my brain reminded me. So, if not that, what? I searched the avenue for options. Briefly, I considered going home. At least I know I have food there.

Seeking adventure, I kept walking. Catching the shadow of my tail on the pavement, I smiled.

Turning down another residential street, I blinked at the sight I spotted at the end of the block: a large, muscled goat grilling on a barbeque in his front yard. Shirtless, but in an apron, he turned over a piece of meat and turned his head to me. Nodding once, he waved me over.

I picked up my pace and waved back. Approaching him, I realized that this was my first social interaction in over a week.

“Howdy,” he greeted me as I swung open the low, wooden gate to his smaller condo complex.

“Hey,” I barked. “How’s it going?”

“I’m Seth,” he said in a deep voice, extending a hand.

I shook it. “I’m Logan.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“There’s more than enough here. Grab a seat.” He waved towards a couple of lawn chairs, both mismatched. He turned towards the grill. That’s when I noticed he was naked under the apron.

“You’re the first person I’ve talked to in a while,” I confessed.

“Are we persons?” Seth smirked. “I think we need a new word to replace that.”

I chuckled. “Animals?”

He smiled wide. “That would be offensive to the real animals.”

The grilled ground beef was delicious. We ate with our paws as we traded stories. Seth was a musician and a part-time actor. Heavy metal band. Shakespearian-trained. He’s been unemployed for over two years. The virus and now…whatever was happening to the planet…saw to the end of that.

“It’ll come back,” I woofed in between bites.

“Music and art always do,” he mused. “In the meanwhile, we have a lot to sort out.” He was done eating and now licked his fingers. “Wanna go for a walk?”

I licked my own paws now. “Hell yes. Thank you for the burger. I was starving.”

“Hope I didn’t keep you from anything. You on your way somewhere?”

“Nah. Just…bored. Wanted to get out.”

“Same. Tired of being inside,” Seth put his plate down in the grass and stripped off the apron.

He noticed me looking at him.

Seth grinned and scratched behind his ear. “Reckon we don’t really need clothes now that we… uh, at least those of us with external equipment…”

“Now they’re tucked away in sheaths,” I replied. “Yah. I was wondering if anyone else was thinking the same thing.”

“I’ll put something on for our walk, Logan. Not sure if enough feel the same way. Be right back.” He took the plates inside, leaving me in the yard, taking in the rich aromas around me. This enhanced smelling has been both a gift and a curse. Today it is a gift.

Seth reappeared in black leather boots and some kind of leather kilt.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering streets. More looted shops. More deserted sidewalks. More animal-people on balconies and poking their snouts around living room drapes. By the time the sun was setting, we were at Ruins Park.

“You know the story of this place?”

“Sorta,” I replied. “Wasn’t this an old library?”

Seth nodded. “Some developers in the seventies wanted to take over this park and knock down the library for luxury condos. They almost succeeded”

“But the library is ruined. All that’s left are these broken columns.”

“That’s why they didn’t succeed. Once people saw wrecking balls smash through the walls of this beautiful building, they started protesting. It was suddenly real to them. Seeing the destruction inspired action. The demolition permit was yanked and the land was designated a park.”

I nodded and let my eyes scan the landscape. I couldn’t imagine this place as anything other than a gorgeous park, meant for all.

“I think we just saw the wrecking balls…and what they can do. This virus…and whatever happened to us…means we have to do better now. We have our second chance. Whatever mysterious forces are at work are telling us we can’t go on as before.”

“So how do we do this?”

Seth grinned and leaned against a foundation wall that had crumbled on one end.

“We listen to each other. Help each other. We work together.”

I smiled back. He was right. It was time for something new.

And I wanted to be a part of it.