chapter one?

I yawned and stretched my arm above my head. But it didn’t get very far before thumping against…what was that? I propped myself up on my elbows. A low metal ceiling gleamed above my head. My stomach turned. I sat up slowly, but I couldn’t sit up straight. I had to stoop my neck in order to fit. I’d heard of this happening, but I never thought… Isn’t that what they always say? “I never thought it would happen to me.” God, I hoped I was dreaming. But this kennel felt far too real.

Through the wire mesh door of my cage, I could see a dimly lit, narrow hallway. Across the hall and on either side of me were more cages. Most of them seemed occupied, but I was the only one awake, it seemed. I was naked, my head was throbbing dully and my body felt sore, but other than that I felt okay. That was good.

The pet squads had raided a party. That happened all the time overseas, but apparently it could happen here too. Most pets were criminals with a life sentence, but some were volunteers. And a few were kidnapped and sent all over the world. I wondered where I would be sent. Hopefully somewhere where people spoke English. I’d have a fighting chance there. Maybe I could convince the doctors to release me before they made the necessary changes to my body.

I’d seen pictures of biodogs and -cats. But they were long gone. People had kept them as pets years ago, but a virulent rabies-like outbreak had wiped most of them out. The rest had been killed as a precaution. That was when human pets were created. They were quite easy to spot. Every pet underwent extensive body modification in order for them to live comfortably. Fully functioning ears and tails were attached, musculature and joints were adjusted for crawling on all fours, body hair below the neck was permanently removed, and finally, all pets received a lobotomy. Pets had no sense of self-awareness, could not speak, and had no desire to walk upright. All memories were removed. Some pets underwent more mods. Breast augmentation, skin pigmentation, corruption of the hormonal balance so they were constantly in heat… There was no social stigma attached to having sex with your pet, so some owners really enjoyed having their pets constantly “ready to go.”

I adjusted my position, lying down on my stomach instead. Something brushed against my rump. I yelped and lifted myself from the floor. Was there something in here with me? I glanced behind me, then spotted a fluffy black and white thing resting at the base of my spine. It didn’t register at first. I thought it was a ferret, but it wasn’t heavy enough. I reached back and tried to brush it off. It didn’t move. So I tried to lift it up and toss it away.

But it wasn’t a ferret. It was my tail. I had already been modified? A wave of nausea rolled over me. There was no way I could escape now. Even if somehow I got out of here, anyone who found me would just turn me into an animal shelter. But maybe if I got away I could disappear into the mountains. Maybe I could hide. I wasn’t lobotomized yet, so there was still that hope.

I began running my fingers over my body. My skin was impossibly smooth. I had never really liked body hair in the first place, but now that it was gone forever, I missed it. Lacking that hair meant that I wasn’t seen as human anymore. I buried my hands in my hair, tugging slightly. “Oh Christ.” I murmured. It was beginning to sink in. I would never ever go back to what I was. I couldn’t. The ears on top of my head flicked when my fingers brushed against them. I pulled at one, repulsed by the soft fur. Why hadn’t they already cut into my brain? I’d never heard of pets being modified before their lobotomy. It was unethical.

My ears swiveled, startling me. I realized I could hear someone else moving around. “Hey!” I whispered, pressing my face as close to my door as possible. A groan. Then a scream. “Oh God. Oh god oh jesus oh god. Help! Help me!” It was a male voice, followed by the rattling of a kennel door and what sounded like a lot of thrashing. I retreated, my ears laid back and my tail tucked. He kept screaming. Now others were waking up, it seemed. Most stayed mostly quiet and subdued, trying to figure out what had happened to them. Some began screaming and flailing when they felt their modifications. None of them seemed to be lobotomized either. I felt sick again.

A door at one end of the corridor slammed open. I could hear heavy boots on the concrete floor. Two men passed my cage, not even glancing in my direction. A cage door was opened, and the first male voice I’d heard raised intensely. “No! No, God, please!” Suddenly, he shrieked. Then he was quiet. The others in the kennels had fallen silent as well, watching and listening. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but somehow he’d been subdued.

The two men carried him out. He was limp, probably drugged. Hopefully drugged. After they left, someone else entered the room. I leaned forward to look out my cage. A man in a lab coat. A doctor? I almost cried out to him, begged him to let me go. Then I realized how stupid that would sound. Obviously he knew what was going on. I kept quiet.

“Anyone else?” He asked coldly, walking past my cage to the center point of the corridor. No one spoke. “Good. We don’t want to have to lobotomize you. Sentient pets can be so much fun.”

And with that, he left.

“Sentient?” A small voice piped up as soon as the door closed behind him. It sounded like a girl, probably only a few cages down from mine. “But that’s illegal…”

“So is kidnapping, dipshit.” I could see the owner of this voice. He was right across from me, lying on his stomach in his kennel. His tail was curled up over his back, his ears were triangular and erect. An Alaskan malamute, perhaps?

“Oh, shut up, Max.” The male in the cage next to his thumped their shared wall with his fist. This one was a cat. His long tail curled up around his legs, swishing from time to time. Max just grinned and rolled onto his back.

“Erm.. Have you been here long?” The same small voice asked. Persistent, she was. Max rolled back onto his stomach, looking a little surprised that she hadn’t just stayed quiet.

“I suppose so. A few weeks.” He shrugged, then slapped the wall. “Rum Tum Tugger here has been around longer.” The cat rolled his eyes.

“Not Rum Tum Tugger, thank you. No one enjoys musical theatre as much as you do, Max.” The cat licked the back of his hand and smoothed his hair back. “It’s Clarke. And I’ve been here a month or so. I think.”

I didn’t understand. Why had they been here so long? I shifted in my kennel, bumping into the wall in my search for a better position. Max looked over at me, then smiled. I blushed and smiled back, then finally asked. “Where are we?”

“It’s a private club for sickos.” He shrugged. “You’re up for rental or adoption, depending on what they want. Clarke and I are permanent fixtures of the club, though. No adoptions for us.” He paused, then knocked on his wall again. “Hey Clarke, I bet she’ll be adopted within the afternoon. Whaddya think?”

I bit my lip. The cat narrowed his eyes at me, then nodded. “I think you’re right. She is kinda cute. I guess.” His tail swished. “Sorry, girls aren’t really my type.”

I heard the door begin to rattle. Max sighed. “Don’t speak.” He whispered. The door creaked open, and two pair of heels clicked smartly down the hall.

“We received a new shipment just last night, ma’am. I think you’ll be happy with them. What are you looking for?” The women stopped near my cage. Neither could be over the age of thirty.

“A bitch this time.” The second woman nodded, squinting at Max. He wagged his tail and winked, knowing he wasn’t at risk of being taken. The first woman was rather large although nicely dressed. Obviously a representative of this “club.” She headed down the hallway, toward the small voiced girl. “We have a beagle down here, Miss. Or perhaps you’d like a setter?”

The second woman followed the club worker, but shook her head. “No, too small. I don’t like these fragile things.”

“Hrm. Perhaps a border collie then?” The worker came back toward me. Was I a border collie? I didn’t have time to decide before she pointed into my kennel. The buyer crouched down in front of my kennel, looking straight into my face. I blushed again, terrified but unable to move.

“Bring her out for me.” She stood up. The worker grimaced slightly. “She’s brand new, ma’am. I’m not sure how she’ll react.”

The buyer set her mouth and stared at the worker. She glanced down at me. “Don’t do anything stupid, bitch. You don’t want to be punished.” I nodded hurriedly. She looked back up at the worker. “Now do as I asked.”

The woman nodded nervously and took out a ring of keys. She chose one and unlocked my kennel, then grabbed the back of my neck and guided me out of the cage. I crawled out, shivering slightly. The floor was cold on my hands and feet. My paws.

“Sit.” The buyer pointed at me. I hesitated. The floor was so cold. “I said, sit.”

I sat, whimpering slightly. God, I was such a coward. I should have run for it, or at least refused. But no, here I was, trying to keep this woman happy. I’d seen the way dogs sat, but I didn’t know how to replicate it. The buyer seemed a little displeased. “She needs some training.” The worker nodded. “She just came in last night–”

“I know.” The buyer cut her off, raising her hand. She knelt in front of me, looking straight into my eyes. “Don’t you dare try anything stupid, bitch.” I swallowed. She was frightening. She lifted my ears, peering into them and tugging slightly. She opened my mouth and put her fingers inside, touching my teeth and tongue clinically. I coughed, and she withdrew her fingers in a hurry. “No, bad dog.” She slapped my cheek. I frowned.

“I don’t have control over a cough.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about what I was saying. Immediately, she brought her hand back and slapped my cheek again. It knocked me over. Tears came to my eyes.

“Be respectful, bitch. We all know you can talk, the trick is not doing it.” She pulled me back into a sitting position, holding my chin in her hand. “Do you understand? Bark if you do.”

I pulled my chin back, but barked once. She stood up. “This one is just fine, I think.” I hung my head, feeling cowardly and ashamed. A braver person would have refused, would have screamed, would have tried something to get away. But that would have meant a lobotomy. Thinking of a lobotomy felt like thinking of death. Unawareness, no memories… No. I would rather be a coward than be dead.

The worker clapped her hands. “Perfect, Miss. I’ll retrieve a collar and leash for you. Would you also like a transport kennel to take her home?”

“The kennel won’t be necessary, thank you.” She looked down at me. “Puppy needs to learn how to walk.” The worker left the kennel room, and the buyer — my owner, now — moved a few paces down the hallway. I looked down at my hands — paws — then up at Max. Told ya. He mouthed, then wagged his tail.

“Puppy.” My ears perked and flicked in her direction. I turned toward her awkwardly. “Come.” She put out her hand. I could see she was holding something. A treat? My stomach growled. I was starving. Cautiously, I crept toward her. I felt so flexible. It was easier than I expected to walk on all fours. “Sit.” She commanded when I was a step away from her. I did, still awkward, but I tried. She popped the treat into my mouth.

It tasted like beef jerky. Not unpleasant at all. The worker came back now, holding a collar and lead and heavy leather mitts and kneepads. Walking outside was hard on paws. The mitts kept them protected. It also inhibited the use of fingers. The worker handed the things to my owner, who immediately crouched in front of me. I kept my eyes on her face as she placed the plain leather collar around my neck. It was snug, but not bothersome. She clipped the short lead to the collar, then readied the mitts.

“Make a fist with your paw, Puppy.” She ordered, demonstrating with her own hand. I held out my hand, balled up as she asked. She shoved the black mitt on, then buckled it tightly around my wrist. “Other one.” She held out the second mitt.

I didn’t want to admit it, but the kneepads and mitts were actually quite comfortable. My owner tugged at the lead. “Come along now.” I fell into step behind her, casting one last glance at Max. He actually gave me a double thumbs up. Really? Honestly, did he know something I didn’t? I shook my head and faced forward again.

I was no longer Camille. I was no longer human.

I was Puppy. And I was a dog.