Day 0
I lay awake in bed trying to remember the details of a pleasant dream even as they slipped away. I looked over at my alarm clock; it was just past eleven in the morning. I dragged myself out of bed and changed into some day clothes. It was a Saturday, so I was in no rush. I had a break from my so-far futile job hunt. Twenty-two years old and two months out of college I found myself in the same situation as many of my peers: I was looking for a part-time job to get some working experience, but my lack of experience meant nobody would hire me.
After a quick breakfast I decided to head outside for a walk. Today had broken the pattern of the past week as temperatures had cooled to something bearable, so I decided to enjoy it while it lasted. Maybe I could take a stroll down to the creek where the rocks formed a sort of natural bench from where I could watch the dance of water skaters and damselflies. It would be nice to relax after a week of rejection. My walk took me past the playground where about half a dozen children were playing, while their parents watched, sometimes helping the smaller ones around the equipment.
I reached the creek and sat down on my ``bench'' overlooking a calm, deep pool of water. The stone was pleasantly cool from the shade. I sat for a while, watching the bugs send ripples across the surface as my thoughts wandered. Birds all around were singing and shallower parts of the creek babbled. A gentle breeze played across my face as the smell of the creek filled my nose. It was all incredibly soothing and before long I found myself dozing off.
A noise brought me back to awareness. I looked upstream to see four boys, perhaps ten years old, splashing through the water, carrying nets as they tried to catch minnows or some other water-dwelling creatures. I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched them. Those boys were free to have a good time, but for me summer no longer meant vacation. I was becoming the boring adult that cartoons always made fun of. I shifted into a more comfortable position and felt something under my hand. It was a bit of flat rock about three inches across. Absentmindedly flipping it over, I discovered that this bit of rock contained a fossilized sand dollar. I stared at it for a moment, remembering the days I spent years ago, looking for fossils in this very creek. I turned to look at the boys hunting minnows, then back to the fossil. Turning it over once in my hands, sighed, and muttered, ``I wish I could enjoy days like those again, that things could be different.'' I tossed the stone into the pool and got up. Glancing at the sun I figured it was early afternoon, so I decided to head home for lunch.
After I got home I threw together a sandwich and watched some stupid reality show while I ate. I finished up and grudgingly went to do my laundry. Once the wash was started I looked outside and saw dark clouds moving in. There was a distant rumble of thunder. It seemed I wouldn't be going out again soon. With little else to do I sat down at my computer and checked for new job openings to look into on Monday. There were no new postings for jobs I'd be willing to do, so I spent the rest of my time until dinner playing various games and starting an argument on a forum. We had a nice dinner of salmon, after which I washed the dishes and returned to my computer. A couple hours later, tired from boredom, I decided to call it quits for the night and went to bed.
That night I had a series of strange dreams. First I was back in my youth, running around the neighborhood with some other kids. We played tag and cops and robbers, rode our bikes, and swam in the creek. The dream shifted and I was running wild through a forest, my senses keen, my reflexes quick. It shifted again and I was a young boy again, relieving myself behind a tree. Whatever I dreamed after that became indistinct with vague flashes of an idyllic summer life. I became aware of an unusual sensation, like every inch of me was getting a massage. The dreams grew even less distinct and finally faded into nothing.
Day 1
As I drifted back into wakefulness I knew something was off before I even opened my eyes. I felt all sorts of odd sensations; so many that I couldn't quite take stock of all of them at once. As more function came to my waking mind I was able to make them out more definitely. There was a sort of soft pressure all over my body. My face, head, and feet felt out of place. There was something thick around my loins. Strangest of all there was a completely foreign sensation coming from behind me, starting around my lower back.
I cracked my eyes open but was briefly blinded by the morning sunlight. Once my eyes adjusted to the light I noticed something orange at the bottom of my vision. I propped myself up to get a better view of whatever was in from of my face only for it to come up with me and remained fixed in the same spot in my vision. Now a bit scared, I sat all the way up. The thickness between my legs shifted a slightly with a bit of a squish, but I was more preoccupied with my face. I reached up to touch the orange-and-black thing and felt an elongated shape, but also felt where my hands touched it. After a second I realized it was in the shape of a dog's muzzle. I opened my mouth a bit and felt sharp canine teeth. Then I noticed my hands. Like the muzzle, they were covered in orange fur and each finger had a tiny black claw in place of a fingernail. My palms had pinkish pads somewhere between the paw pads of a dog or cat and the skin of a human.
A crow called outside and I felt my ears swivel toward it, a very strange feeling. They had apparently moved higher on my head. I reached up to feel them with my hands. They were triangular and furry. I found I could even move them voluntarily, which was even weirder than when they moved on their own. I moved to get out of bed but was stopped by two sensations. First was that same thick squishiness under my bottom, something I realized I had felt before. More noticeable was the alien sensation of something dragging. I looked behind me and saw a tail, perhaps two feet long coming out of my rear end. It was covered in orange fur, white on the tip and rather fluffy. I stroked it a few times, finally understanding that the strangest feelings came from this new limb. I found that I could move it just as easily as I might move an arm or leg, though perhaps with less coordination.
After a few moments of swishing my new tail back and forth I decided to investigate the rest of the changes. Sitting cross-legged, I turned my attention to my feet. They had become elongated, like those of a dog and were also covered in fur, mostly orange, but my heels and the tips of my toes were a very light gray. Underneath was a set of pink paw pads. I had only four toes on each foot, each ending in a black claw. By the looks of things I had turned into some sort of dog thing. I got out of bed to test my new feet. The thickness between my legs weighed down a bit, but I was soon distracted as I tried to keep my balance. My feet naturally took on a digitigrade posture, which felt strange yet right at the same time. My tail swished around a bit as I took a couple wobbly steps, apparently aiding in balance. After a couple seconds, I found the right rhythm of walking. Despite only just discovering this body, and despite how strange it felt, I was able to walk on my changed feet as if they had always been that way. I looked around and realized that I was considerably shorter than I had been before. The books and CDs on my shelf had been replaced by Legos and other toys.
I opened my closet door so I could finally see myself in the mirror. I was not a dog but a fox. Orange fur covered most of my body, but turned white on my lower jaw and throat. The tips of my ears were black, and black stripes ran along my muzzle to under my eyes. My eyes, once brown, were now green. The only hair on top of my head was ordinary fur. I looked quite young, like a child. Somehow I knew that I was eight years old. I was wearing a loose, oversized t-shirt and some boxers. Taking off the shirt I saw that the white fur continued down my chest and belly. While I was quite shock at my changes, I did not feel panicky. Some part of my brain felt this was almost normal.
Finally, I could ignore it no longer. I had a feeling I knew what the thing weighing between my legs was and finally worked up the courage to see. I pulled down my pajama pants, unsnapping the strap over my tail. My suspicions were confirmed: I was wearing a Dryjams pullup. It was quite wet and sagged under its weight. I put my hand over it and felt it squish. The feeling was indeed familiar; I had worn such pullups to bed until I was twelve and often woke up wet. They were a bit different from the ones I knew. The prints seemed to have changed and, wetness aside, they seemed a bit softer than before. Judging by the weight, it seemed they held more as well. My old pullups had often leaked, so it seemed that the extra protection was warranted. Turning around in the mirror I noticed one more difference: the pullup had a Velcro-like strap in the back to hold the ``underwear'' up on my tail.
Not wanting to be in a wet pullup anymore I undid the strap and tugged the pullup off my hips. It fell to the floor with a ``plop.'' Looking into my closet I saw what looked like a diaper genie. I gingerly picked up the wet pullup, dropped it inside, and twisted the lid. Next to it were some wipes, which I used to clean myself up a bit. I did not want to ponder my predicament naked so I went to my dresser and pulled a T-shirt and shorts. Having a tail added an extra step to putting on pants and underwear, but it seemed routine and I buttoned the straps at the back like I had done it a thousand times before.
I stood in front of the mirror again and tried to figure out this impossibility. Something had to have happened to cause the changes. Why was I a kid again? Why a fox? I thought back over what had lead up to this morning and remembered the bit of jealousy I felt toward the boys at the creek. Then I remembered the sand dollar and the wish. That wish hadn't been serious; just a bit of idle fantasy. And yet it had come true. My wish came true. I was a kid again and I could do kid stuff; summer was a vacation once again. A grin spread across my face and I let out a bit of a giggle. Then it hit me that I wasn't quite human any more. I would be different from the other kids. Would I be teased? Shunned? Treated as a freak? Then again, it wasn't just me that had changed. My room and clothes had changed to fit my new age and species. Maybe other things had changed too.
I came downstairs to find my mom reading a book on the sofa. Despite the changes to me and to my room, she was still human. Since I was adopted, however, this development did not necessarily mean anything. She looked up from her book and greeted me, ``Well, good morning Mr. late riser.'' So, she seems to be part of the changes as well.
``Hi, Mom,'' I replied. My new voice, though oddly pleasing, would take some getting used to.
``Changed already, I see. Did you get yourself cleaned up nicely?''
``Yes, Mom!'' I hissed, blushing under my fur. That bit of Mom certainly had not changed. Sparing myself any further embarrassment, I went to the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal. After eating I brushed my teeth, which felt a bit weird with my longer mouth. I remembered, somehow, that I had planned on meeting my friends at the corner today, even though I made no such plans before my transformation. It seemed that these changes might be pretty far-reaching. On the porch I noticed that I had shoes to go with my changed feet. While my paw pads were more durable than a human sole and were probably fine for walking in the street, it seemed prudent to wear shoes in case I stepped on glass or something gross. Even though the shoes were not quite like any human shoes I had seen before I had no trouble putting them on.
I grabbed by bike from garage and rode down to the corner, where three other boys. They turned to face me as I arrived. ``What took you so long, Riddle?'' asked the tallest one.
``Uh, slept in. Sorry.'' It was the same old posse I had hung out with in my original childhood. William, the tall one, was slightly heavyset and had dirty blonde hair in a buzz cut and greenish eyes. He was the oldest of our group by a few months (somehow I knew he had turned nine not long ago) and so was naturally the leader. To his left, Tien was leaning against a tree. He had slightly longer black hair and features hinting at his Vietnamese heritage. While these two were just as I remembered them Andy, and I knew it was him, was now a lion.
``So what now?'' asked Andy, ``the creek?''
``You read my mind,'' William replied, grinning. We rode our bikes over, coming to the same spot where I had seen the other boys playing the day before. Taking off our shirts and shoes we jumped into a natural swimming hole. It was a rather warm day, so after the initial shock, the cold water was quite refreshing. We swam and splashed for a while. William tried to retrieve a rock from the deepest part of the swimming hole, but ended up getting water up his nose. It was just like our days together years ago. Well, the wet fur was a new experience but I didn't mind it. It seemed like it had been years since I'd had good, simple fun like this. It probably had been.
After William had recovered from his ill-fated diving attempt and I had shaken most of the water from my tail, we turned to hunting salamanders. Andy had brought a few small glass jars in which to collect the critters. We spent some time, I don't know how long, searching under rocks up and down the creek. Between the four of us we managed to catch twenty-six salamanders. I caught the most, ten, but Tien got the biggest and fattest one. It was probably a different type from the rest, but I wasn't sure. We turned them loose after a few minutes and watched them wriggle through the water to find new hiding places. As the salamanders disappeared we said our goodbyes and went home for lunch.
After washing up a bit at home I made myself a bologna sandwich and poured some orange juice for lunch. My mom was watching one of her unbearable soap operas, so I ate in the kitchen. Hunger sated, I told my mom that I'd be in the back yard and collected a small net, by bug cage, and some tweezers and went outside to see what bugs were around today. I spent the rest of the afternoon, minus a couple bathroom breaks, looking under the rocks and logs lining the garden. There was the typical mix of worms, slugs, and pillbugs, but I managed to collect a few centipedes, a couple interesting grubs of some sort, and a mean-looking red-and-white spider. My dad pulled in the driveway at one point and came by the back door to greet him. I replied with a distracted ``Hi,'' as an ant dragging a dead moth had captured my attention for the moment.
Not long after my dad came home my mom called me in to wash up for dinner. We had a sort of chicken casserole, not the best thing in the world, but it went down okay. I told my stories about William getting water up his nose and Tien finding the biggest salamander, but the conversation soon turned over to the happenings at my dad's work. I actually understood what my parents were talking about, even though I hadn't understood such things the last time I was this age. I had apparently retained my adult faculties through this regression, but, as I thought back on my day, it seemed that they sort of took the back seat when I was doing kid stuff. Did this mean that I would be the class genius when I started third grade? I ran the idea of indefinite integrals through my head and figured that I was probably still able to do calculus. This vein of thoughts continued until desert, which consisted of chocolate ice cream, which tasted better than I remember. It seems sweet stuff really does taste better to kids.
After dessert I went up to my bedroom and looked around for something to do. I quickly spotted my Bionicles and began thinking up for a lizard monster. One by one I took apart several sets, taking the pieces as needed as I assembled my new creature. The time went by quickly and before I knew it my clock read 8:41. The rule was that I had to be in my PJs and in bed by nine, though I could push it to ten if there was a show I really wanted to watch. I got undressed, grabbed a towel, and took a quick bath. Drying off was easier than I had thought it would be; some geniuses had apparently developed a type of fiber for towels which easily pulled water out of fur.
I returned to my room to get in my PJs. I realized with a grimace that the first order of business would be to put on a pullup. In my closet there was one nearly full package of pullups and two more unopened. I picked up the open package and brought it into the light of the room. I looked it over with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. The front cover showed a fox boy a little younger than myself, ``DryJams'' printed in colorful letters above. A few of the labels I found notable said ``extra absorbency'' and ``fitted for fluffy tails.'' The back showed diagrams of how they fit around the tail and a chart of different sizes and absorbencies. I had the highest absorbency level, meant for heavy wetters. I took a pullup out and examined it. It had baseball and football themed-designs on it, with a slot and strap for my tail in the back. Despite the use of the word ``underwear'' several times on the package, it was quite diaper-like. I slipped on the pullup and looked at myself in the mirror. There I was, now a young fox kid wearing a pullup, Really, once you get past all the euphemisms, I was wearing a diaper. I was ashamed for a moment, but as I continued to look in the mirror I realized that the image, pullup and all, was rather cute. The pullup was soft and quite comfortable. I threw on a loose T-shirt and shorts for PJs and left my room to brush my teeth and use the bathroom. Hopefully emptying my bladder before bed would mean that I would wake up dry. I lay down in bed, threw the light sheets over my body, and was soon asleep.
