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More from Rocky
I felt cold, despite my car’s heater, and my fur. I could argue it was that we were in a cold spell, or that my very non-self driving car was not very good at putting out heat. But no. I felt cold on the inside. I felt cold because after all of this, I was going to find comfort and normalcy in life again.
Another person would say that was fantastic. I had turned into a human dog hybrid and yet was still able to live my life. But what it meant for me was that this brief spike of everything be very not normal, this heightened desire in me to care about others, was going to end. I was going to be the same person I was before.
Jackie really liked me when I was trying very hard to support her in her desire to be a furry. Ashley felt closer to me when I was doing my best to comfort her. Before all this happened though, my relationship with my sister had been strained - and my relationship with Jackie was mostly nonexistent. I was, quite simply, an a**hole. I contradicted my own personal belief about being cheerful and optimistic in complaining about the slightest pieces of misfortune that crossed my way. How odd then, that I reacted so differently when a real awful world shaking event occurred.
Any other person would have the self control to analyze my situation. To say “I think I feel happier when I care more about others.” But I was not that person. In the moment I might feel compassion for others. A desire to make my friends and loved ones happy. But outside of those times, where I was just alone relaxing, I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to put in the effort to think of others.
I stopped at a light, and pulled the visor down, looking at myself in the mirror. I had gotten used to that reflection now - that golden retriever that was currently licking his nose was me. I’d even gotten to where I was, for the most part, okay with who I was now. Apart from having to manage my tail when I sat down, most of the time I actually didn’t mind the ways I'd been changed.
But in that moment I felt… ashamed, somehow. Where I had early on felt deep anguish over every step further I transformed, I now felt a very different emotion. The light changed. I began driving forward again.
Dogs were “man’s best friend.” They were always depicted as loyal companions. I did not feel like that was who I was. Maybe if I’d turned into an overweight cat person that would’ve matched more of what I felt my personality was. I hadn’t heard of cat people being a thing yet, but they, and all sorts of human animal hybrids, couldn’t be far off.
I groaned. I was looking way too deep into this. I was making this out to be some kind of astrology, that if someone turned into a certain type of dog, it meant something about who they were. In reality, from what Dad had said, it was somewhat random.
And there was Dad. He too had endured this whole crisis, with the much greater weight on his shoulders of being partly responsible, and having to figure out how to help solve the disaster… he was a much better man than I was. I was hardly much of a man though.
I was only in high school. Maybe I was, like I had said to Jackie all those weeks ago, placing too much on myself for someone of my age. I had a hard time though seeing how I would get out of this way of living in the next few years. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be better.
And yet the thought of taking Jackie on dates, on going to do more stuff with friends… it all exhausted me. I would have to remember people’s birthdays, and remember much more about their lives.
I found a few tears dribbling down my face, and a sick feeling in my stomach. I felt like such a crappy person. If Jackie knew what I was thinking right now, that to me, caring about her, and wanting to be in her life exhausted me… she would probably not want me. She would probably go back to not wanting anyone.
That… was a painful realization. I had power over other people’s lives. It was something that I had denied in the past. I had always said to myself “that person doesn’t really care about my opinion - because I’m Matt. Matt is the person who doesn’t have social skills and is weird, and therefore we can ignore him.” It was the way I’d lived my life. I'd thought that being extremely self conscious was only hurting me. Therefore I could say or do whatever else I wanted. People wouldn't think anything of it - because I was Matt.
I had always considered myself the complete opposite of arrogant, of stuck up - but if I felt that I was beyond having to care about others, beyond having to be considerate... that to me, felt like the definition of self centered. I was going down that spiral again. One I had gone down so many times. A domino effect where a single imperfection, a single mistake made me feel like I was incapable of anything.
A little voice inside me told me that was wrong. That I was a good person. I had done good things. I wanted to care about other people like Jackie, and I could pursue those desires, act on them. But I didn't want to listen to that little voice. I did not think I could be the person who could do those good things. I hardly felt like I was capable of doing more in my life than school.
Pulling up into our driveway and turning off the car, I sat still for a while, sobbing silently. It started slowing. The tears started drying. I would go inside, start playing some game, and then all this would retreat into my subconscious. I would delay trying to be a good person another day. And I would do that for the rest of my life.
And I cried some more.
I heard the car door open.
“Sweetie?”
I looked up through bleary eyes at my Mom. She was almost completely changed, and yet she acted like she’d been an anthro her whole life.
She stooped down and put her arm around me.
“I take it your first day of school didn’t go so well?”
Unpacking all of my emotions and bawling like a child was the last thing I wanted. So I lied.
“Yeah.”
“Well,” Mom said, “I know that it’ll get easier over time. Things are going to be different from now on, but you’ll get used to them.”
Would it get easier Mom? I thought. Would it really be different at all?
“Yeah.” I didn’t really know what to say. My mom slowly pulled me up out of the car, and rubbed her now pawed hand on my shoulder. I grabbed my backpack from the back of the car.
“How are your friends doing?” Mom asked.
I sighed. “Better than me.”
We walked into the house. I expected Mom to walk off and do something as I brushed off my paws and hung up my jacket. Instead she stood off to the side with her hands clasped. That meant that she wanted to keep talking with me or something. Ugh.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a package of peanuts. I was more eating as a distraction from my thoughts than anything else.
Mom leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter. “Hey Matt, um… Dad wants you and Ashley to go to his work in a bit.”
I paused my snacking. “Why?”
“He wants to run some tests.”
“But we’ve already changed.”
“I know,” Mom said, “but he wants you to go. He has his reasons.”
“It isn’t like we’re the only anthros in town or something,” I said. “Why do we have to come? Can’t he just use himself as a specimen?”
Mom sighed. I suddenly had a moment of clarity. I’d been acting like a stuck up jerk. Again. Someone who was unaccommodating. Someone who doesn’t want to do one sliver of a thing for others.
“Matt… what’s going on?”
“Huhh..?”
I realized I’d been crying. Crying like an incapable child.
“I’m sorry Matt,” Mom said. “I’ll give you some time to relax and calm down, and ask Dad if maybe you can do this tomorrow.”
“No,” I tried to suppress my sniffling. “I… I can do it.”
“Okay,” Mom said, “be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes.”
I let out a groan, and was only just barely able to cut off the involuntary response at the end. I hated this. Who I was. My Dad wanted me to help him serve thousands of people in trouble around the world, and I was just complaining about having to quickly get ready and leave.
I went to my room, and sat on my bed for a moment, running my hands through my hair, and over my ears, stretching them out for a moment. After taking a few moments to breathe, I changed into a new t-shirt, a light green. This was my normal routine, as my fur shed so much hair all over it. Light shirts now made up more of my clothes, as the dog hair was more obvious on black and other dark shirts. Hair was everywhere in my room, and I’d pretty much given into the fact that my room would never look nice and clean again.
In that way, it was a lot like me.
I groaned, though this time it was more drawn out - an expression of feeling sick. Of being tired. Of disgust at myself.
I grabbed the Switch - I knew from past experiences with being around Dad while working - times where I hadn’t been turning into a dog - that it had been often really boring.
Augh. Once again, my thoughts gravitated towards being inconsiderate. I said to others to look for the good in the world and completely contradicted myself in my own actions.
Perhaps being a human animal hybrid depicted me perfectly. I was something weird, that didn’t make sense. Something conflicted. Something not normal. Something undesirable.
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/44738779/
Next: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/44791467/
First Part: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/43399487/
Join my discord server for canine furries and friends! : https://discord.gg/xGhR89y2mW
Another person would say that was fantastic. I had turned into a human dog hybrid and yet was still able to live my life. But what it meant for me was that this brief spike of everything be very not normal, this heightened desire in me to care about others, was going to end. I was going to be the same person I was before.
Jackie really liked me when I was trying very hard to support her in her desire to be a furry. Ashley felt closer to me when I was doing my best to comfort her. Before all this happened though, my relationship with my sister had been strained - and my relationship with Jackie was mostly nonexistent. I was, quite simply, an a**hole. I contradicted my own personal belief about being cheerful and optimistic in complaining about the slightest pieces of misfortune that crossed my way. How odd then, that I reacted so differently when a real awful world shaking event occurred.
Any other person would have the self control to analyze my situation. To say “I think I feel happier when I care more about others.” But I was not that person. In the moment I might feel compassion for others. A desire to make my friends and loved ones happy. But outside of those times, where I was just alone relaxing, I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to put in the effort to think of others.
I stopped at a light, and pulled the visor down, looking at myself in the mirror. I had gotten used to that reflection now - that golden retriever that was currently licking his nose was me. I’d even gotten to where I was, for the most part, okay with who I was now. Apart from having to manage my tail when I sat down, most of the time I actually didn’t mind the ways I'd been changed.
But in that moment I felt… ashamed, somehow. Where I had early on felt deep anguish over every step further I transformed, I now felt a very different emotion. The light changed. I began driving forward again.
Dogs were “man’s best friend.” They were always depicted as loyal companions. I did not feel like that was who I was. Maybe if I’d turned into an overweight cat person that would’ve matched more of what I felt my personality was. I hadn’t heard of cat people being a thing yet, but they, and all sorts of human animal hybrids, couldn’t be far off.
I groaned. I was looking way too deep into this. I was making this out to be some kind of astrology, that if someone turned into a certain type of dog, it meant something about who they were. In reality, from what Dad had said, it was somewhat random.
And there was Dad. He too had endured this whole crisis, with the much greater weight on his shoulders of being partly responsible, and having to figure out how to help solve the disaster… he was a much better man than I was. I was hardly much of a man though.
I was only in high school. Maybe I was, like I had said to Jackie all those weeks ago, placing too much on myself for someone of my age. I had a hard time though seeing how I would get out of this way of living in the next few years. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be better.
And yet the thought of taking Jackie on dates, on going to do more stuff with friends… it all exhausted me. I would have to remember people’s birthdays, and remember much more about their lives.
I found a few tears dribbling down my face, and a sick feeling in my stomach. I felt like such a crappy person. If Jackie knew what I was thinking right now, that to me, caring about her, and wanting to be in her life exhausted me… she would probably not want me. She would probably go back to not wanting anyone.
That… was a painful realization. I had power over other people’s lives. It was something that I had denied in the past. I had always said to myself “that person doesn’t really care about my opinion - because I’m Matt. Matt is the person who doesn’t have social skills and is weird, and therefore we can ignore him.” It was the way I’d lived my life. I'd thought that being extremely self conscious was only hurting me. Therefore I could say or do whatever else I wanted. People wouldn't think anything of it - because I was Matt.
I had always considered myself the complete opposite of arrogant, of stuck up - but if I felt that I was beyond having to care about others, beyond having to be considerate... that to me, felt like the definition of self centered. I was going down that spiral again. One I had gone down so many times. A domino effect where a single imperfection, a single mistake made me feel like I was incapable of anything.
A little voice inside me told me that was wrong. That I was a good person. I had done good things. I wanted to care about other people like Jackie, and I could pursue those desires, act on them. But I didn't want to listen to that little voice. I did not think I could be the person who could do those good things. I hardly felt like I was capable of doing more in my life than school.
Pulling up into our driveway and turning off the car, I sat still for a while, sobbing silently. It started slowing. The tears started drying. I would go inside, start playing some game, and then all this would retreat into my subconscious. I would delay trying to be a good person another day. And I would do that for the rest of my life.
And I cried some more.
I heard the car door open.
“Sweetie?”
I looked up through bleary eyes at my Mom. She was almost completely changed, and yet she acted like she’d been an anthro her whole life.
She stooped down and put her arm around me.
“I take it your first day of school didn’t go so well?”
Unpacking all of my emotions and bawling like a child was the last thing I wanted. So I lied.
“Yeah.”
“Well,” Mom said, “I know that it’ll get easier over time. Things are going to be different from now on, but you’ll get used to them.”
Would it get easier Mom? I thought. Would it really be different at all?
“Yeah.” I didn’t really know what to say. My mom slowly pulled me up out of the car, and rubbed her now pawed hand on my shoulder. I grabbed my backpack from the back of the car.
“How are your friends doing?” Mom asked.
I sighed. “Better than me.”
We walked into the house. I expected Mom to walk off and do something as I brushed off my paws and hung up my jacket. Instead she stood off to the side with her hands clasped. That meant that she wanted to keep talking with me or something. Ugh.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a package of peanuts. I was more eating as a distraction from my thoughts than anything else.
Mom leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter. “Hey Matt, um… Dad wants you and Ashley to go to his work in a bit.”
I paused my snacking. “Why?”
“He wants to run some tests.”
“But we’ve already changed.”
“I know,” Mom said, “but he wants you to go. He has his reasons.”
“It isn’t like we’re the only anthros in town or something,” I said. “Why do we have to come? Can’t he just use himself as a specimen?”
Mom sighed. I suddenly had a moment of clarity. I’d been acting like a stuck up jerk. Again. Someone who was unaccommodating. Someone who doesn’t want to do one sliver of a thing for others.
“Matt… what’s going on?”
“Huhh..?”
I realized I’d been crying. Crying like an incapable child.
“I’m sorry Matt,” Mom said. “I’ll give you some time to relax and calm down, and ask Dad if maybe you can do this tomorrow.”
“No,” I tried to suppress my sniffling. “I… I can do it.”
“Okay,” Mom said, “be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes.”
I let out a groan, and was only just barely able to cut off the involuntary response at the end. I hated this. Who I was. My Dad wanted me to help him serve thousands of people in trouble around the world, and I was just complaining about having to quickly get ready and leave.
I went to my room, and sat on my bed for a moment, running my hands through my hair, and over my ears, stretching them out for a moment. After taking a few moments to breathe, I changed into a new t-shirt, a light green. This was my normal routine, as my fur shed so much hair all over it. Light shirts now made up more of my clothes, as the dog hair was more obvious on black and other dark shirts. Hair was everywhere in my room, and I’d pretty much given into the fact that my room would never look nice and clean again.
In that way, it was a lot like me.
I groaned, though this time it was more drawn out - an expression of feeling sick. Of being tired. Of disgust at myself.
I grabbed the Switch - I knew from past experiences with being around Dad while working - times where I hadn’t been turning into a dog - that it had been often really boring.
Augh. Once again, my thoughts gravitated towards being inconsiderate. I said to others to look for the good in the world and completely contradicted myself in my own actions.
Perhaps being a human animal hybrid depicted me perfectly. I was something weird, that didn’t make sense. Something conflicted. Something not normal. Something undesirable.
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/44738779/
Next: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/44791467/
First Part: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/43399487/
Join my discord server for canine furries and friends! : https://discord.gg/xGhR89y2mW
Category Story / Transformation
Species Dog (Other)
Size 77 x 120px
File Size 49.3 kB
Augh, why is Matt so relatable!?!?
I noticed a couple of grammatical mistakes which kind of messed up the feeling the reader was supposed to get, but you're putting these out so quickly it's very forgivable!
Thank you for the Thanksgiving gift, this year I'm thankful for you and your writing!
I noticed a couple of grammatical mistakes which kind of messed up the feeling the reader was supposed to get, but you're putting these out so quickly it's very forgivable!
Thank you for the Thanksgiving gift, this year I'm thankful for you and your writing!
This part doesn't quite sound right though I may be wrong "I had thought that being extremely self conscious was only hurting me. That had been the definition of self centered. "
Also the word accommodating doesn't really make sense here.
"I’d been acting like a stuck up jerk. Again. Someone who is accommodating. Someone who doesn’t want to do one sliver of a thing for others."
Also the word accommodating doesn't really make sense here.
"I’d been acting like a stuck up jerk. Again. Someone who is accommodating. Someone who doesn’t want to do one sliver of a thing for others."
There was "Apart from having to manage my tail when I sat down, most of the time I actually didn’t mind being an anthro."
I believe using furry slang such as "anthro" in this sentence ruins the feeling of deep thought that was supposed to exist in this section. Perhaps saying the entire phrase, "Anthropomorphic Animal," or even saying "dog," or "dog thing" would sound better.
I believe using furry slang such as "anthro" in this sentence ruins the feeling of deep thought that was supposed to exist in this section. Perhaps saying the entire phrase, "Anthropomorphic Animal," or even saying "dog," or "dog thing" would sound better.
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