Weredog, Part I

It was probably three weeks ago when I sent my dog outside, he had all of his business to do, then he’d come in for the night. I busied myself cooking dinner, it was late, already dark, Ripper would have time to run around, that's good for a doggo's heart. He’d been out for ten minutes of so when I heard a frightened squeal, then the sound of growling, right out the door I did peal. I saw Ripper crouching by the grill, pressing low to hide away, a dark figure ran fast from the yard, on two legs it made its way. I shouted, “Get the hell out of here! Bastard, leave my dog alone!” Then I turned and looked at small Ripper, who whimpered amidst low groans. He had blood matter up in his fur, something had taken a bite, I brought him in, and turned off the stove, and for a clinic took flight. It turned out it had not gone the deep, and Ripper would be just fine, the vet thought it all rather bizarre, ‘man bites dog’ just came to mind. So I brought my little scottie home, then we went about our lives, and until the next full moon came ’round both of us were doing fine. But on that night I let him back out, with porch light to keep him safe, then I heard a lot of howling, and for the back yard did race. What I saw there chilled me to the bone, it was Ripper, but was not, the scottie dog now stood eight feet tall, and up on two legs did trot. Now I have seen enough monster flicks to know of lycanthropy, a full moon caused werewolves to transform, but Ripper was a dog, see. Yet still he stood here, massive and strong, I fear he’d rip me apart, but when he turned and stared down at me what I saw gladdened my heart. He had the same look he always did whenever he sought to play, his huge tail wagging ever so fast, he pranced in a doggo way. I knew this meant he wanted to fetch, so I got my garden hoe, then hurtled it across my back yard, and away did Ripper go. His jaws nearly chomped through the long shaft, but he brought it back real quick, so of course I had to throw again, and Ripper was back at it. Then he rolled on his back in the grass, then he went up to the hose, so of course I turned it on for him, for a half-hour it flowed. Next he gave me two huge, winsome eyes, of course, he wanted a treat, what do you give to an eight-foot dog? The rib roast bought for next week! He wolfed it down in a few quick bites, then wanted a belly rub, I was worried, since he was a mess, and couldn’t fit in the tub... CONCLUDES IN PART II.