Dakota

1. Meet Dakota.

I put the collar on her while she slept, and by the first rays of sunlight shining into what had become her bedroom after moving out of the master suite, the changes were complete Of course, I knew they would have been almost instantaneous thanks to the magic stone embedded in the decorative leather collar. 

I waited at the door for her to awaken. 

I watched the sleeping Border Collie on the bed and I wondered what her first thoughts might be when she awoke. Would she be angry? No doubt. She would definitely be confused. Probably terrified too. But which would be the dominant feeling? 

I couldn't wait to see. 

The dog was a young one, just past puppyhood, it appeared to me. And she'd have a good, long dog life ahead of her -- as long as she didn't get any crazy ideas about making my life hell or anything like that. 

Not that I'd blame her for lashing out at first, not after I told her I was the one responsible for her new role and new life. 

But there was no way, no way in hell, I could let her and her red-hot lawyer lover pull one over on me and steal my savings and my various trusts. No, she had earned her punishment. Act like a bitch and become one. 

And him... Well, his day was coming too. 

I saw her start to rustle on the covers, and since it seemed like she was starting to finally wake up, I backed away to hide behind the mostly closed door, peering through the crack where it opened and closed. The beautiful she-dog shook out her fur and stretched. A sort of yawning sound escaped her throat, and when she walked over to the edge of the bed, she stopped cold. 

I could just imagine the thoughts that must have been running through her brain. Why is the floor so far away? Why am I standing on all fours? Why does everything feel so strange?

Then she snapped back toward the middle of the bed and crouched low to almost lie down on her belly and paws. She looked around, sort of surveying the room over the point of her snout. Then she cried out loudly from what I guessed was shock. Only, it was less a cry than it was a series of sharp barks and a low, throaty growl. 

It was time to make my entrance. I pushed open the door, leash in my hand, and called to her, "Good morning, Dakota. Who's my good girl?"

She jerked her attention to me and gave me a startled look, as much as she could anyway with those almost black, almost wet, puppy dog eyes. 

I sat on the bed beside her and stroked the soft fur between her ears. While she was still immobile from the surprise, I quickly fastened the leash to her collar.

"Ready for morning walkies, girl?" I ask. 

She only growled and barked loudly. 

"Excited, huh?"

The dog shook her head. Then she barked again.

"What's wrong? We do this every morning, Dakota. Have you forgotten? Morning walkies, then breakfast."

She kept staring at me as if I was the crazy one. 

The poor dear. 

I stood up, continuing to play my part, and tugged on the leash. 

"Well, are you coming, Dakota?"

She made no move to leave her spot in the middle of the bed, just kept staring at me. So I tugged again, this time hard enough to pull her with enough force that she stood up on the bed. But she only went as far as the edge and looked down at the floor. One more tug was all I needed to get her to sort of leap-fall from the bed, and she thudded all four paws perfectly on the hardwood floor. 

"What's gotten into you this morning?" I asked, and she looked up at me and barked twice. 

I pulled her through the room to the hallway and finally to the front door. When I put my hand on the knob, she stopped and resisted, barking loudly and nonstop. I opened the door and tugged on the leash again, but she didn't budge. Instead she sat on her haunches and kept barking. 

"You know if you don't go outside you'll just poop and pee in the house, and I am not going through that again, Dakota. It's been a log time since I'd had to use a rolled-up newspaper on your snout, but so help me, I will if you don't be a good girl and come on outside for your morning walkies."

Still, she didn't move. 

I hooked her leash onto the doorknob and went to the living room for yesterday's paper. After rolling it up as I returned to the foyer, I smacked it against my open palm. "Well, what's it gonna be, girl?"

She whined for the first time, a low but long one. I could almost imagine what it meant. Why are you treating me this way? You know I'm not your dog, don't you? We never even had a dog before? What the hell is going on?

I didn't give a single inch. She deserved all of it. 

I knelt in front of her and lifted her jaw with my free hand. I raised the rolled-up paper a few inches above her nose and waited. She continued to whine. 

Smack! I brought it down on her nose, and she yelped and tried to pull away but I held her jaw and snout firm. 

I let her whimper a bit before I tossed the paper onto the floor, and then retrieved the leash from the doorknob. I motioned toward the open doorway, and she reluctantly followed my unspoken command. 

We walked in silence, me mostly listening to music on my phone and her primarily keeping her head low to the ground -- most likely from humiliation. I made sure we took the long way and even did two laps on the park's track before turning for home again. Once we returned home, I stopped on the front steps. 

"Take care of business, girl," I said, and her eyes grew as wide as her puppy face would allow. She shook her head. I ignored the motion. "Come on, sweetie. You know I can't have you making a mess on my expensive floors."

She kept shaking her head. I continued to ignore it since it wasn't the way a dog should normally respond. I sat on the steps and rolled the leash two loops around my wrist and started to hum. 

"Take your time, Dakota," I said. "I can wait. I have the day off today. I thought we might even go to the dog park later and let you play with your friends."

I could tell by her expression that the poor girl was more confused than ever. I was playing my part so well that she probably wondered if whatever had changed her and affected my memories as well. Or, and I didn't hold out hope for this option, that all her previous life was a lie and she was really and truly a pet border collie and had never been my lying, conniving, cheating wife.

I figured I'd need to let her in on the truth soon, but not -- at least -- until I had ensured her further humiliation by making her do her toilet in the yard in front of any neighbors who might be out for a walk or getting ready to drive to work. 

I could wait that long. 

2. Training Begins. 

It took about a half hour, but eventually she realized that she wasn't coming back inside until she made "poo-poos" and "pee-pees" outside in public. When she did, I praised her for it extravagantly, as if it were the most amazing thing ever and one of the best things she was capable of doing.I mean, she certainly wouldn't be praised for her grant-writing anymore, not with those adorable paws.

I unhooked the leash when we were inside, and she stood in the foyer, still obviously hoping for some sort of explanation. But I went to the kitchen instead, and she followed several feet behind me. I grabbed a box of dry kibble from the pantry and filled a pink ceramic bowl that said Dakota on the side and was decorated with red hearts. Then I filled a plastic bowl next to it with fresh water from the tap. 

"You did so well this morning, girl. Enjoy your breakfast."

She stared at the food but didn't eat. She did, however, lap up much of the water. 

I couldn't help but add, "No, no, girl. You know you can't have canned food until lunch. Just hold your horses, sweet puppy." 

She whimpered and I petted her head gently. 

"It's a dog's life, huh?" I asked. "But it's a good one, isn't it? You have it so easy. Just sleep, eat, go for walks, and take care of your poo-poos and pee-pees. Nothing like the stressful lives we human beings have to put up with."

She whimpered even louder. 

I scratched under her chin. 

"Yeah, I wish I had it so easy," I said with a smirk. 

Dakota huffed out a sort of breathy noise. 

"Fine, fine, you've been a good girl. I suppose you can have a snack."

I reached for the upper shelf in the pantry and grabbed a bag of bacon-flavored treats. I emptied two into my hand and held them in front of her.

She sniffed at them, caught herself, then jerked her face away and stepped back, resuming her whimpering. 

"What's on your mind, girl? You always love your treats. This is your favorite flavor." 

Two loud barks. I cocked my head to the side. 

"What?! Is Timmy stuck in a well again?"

I laughed. She barked again. 

"Seriously. What's up with you today, dog? Clearly, something is on your mind."

She barked once and nodded her snout up and down. Then she bounced on her front paws. 

I couldn't deny how much fun I was having watching her try to figure out what the hell was going on. She couldn't tell whether she could trust me or not, but must have realized that I was her only chance to get to the bottom of why she woke up as a dog this morning. A bitch, I corrected myself. And not just in attitude, but for real. Biologically even. 

And with each new humiliation, I made her endure, pretending she was and had been my pet border collie for a while, I stored up the memories to relive them over and over again. 

"Come on, Dakota, eat your treats. Don't waste these. Daddy gets them for you special and they're expensive."

I waved them under her nose again. She sniffed, then caught herself.

Good, I thought. Her instincts are kicking in. 

"Open up, sweetie," I said, making kissing sounds. "You know you want them."

Almost as if on cue, her tummy grumbled. After all, she hadn't eaten since dinner last night, and she hadn't touched the dry kibble at all.

"That's what happens when little doggies like you don't eat."

I stroked the fur on her back with my free hand. 

She leaned forward and sniffed the treats again. Then she slowly and sadly -- brokenly, one might say -- grabbed both out of my hand with her teeth and chewed them. As she swallowed, I petted her head again.

"Who's a good girl? You are. Yes, Dakota is such a good girl."

I kept petting her. 

"It's just a shame that Felicia was such a nasty, gold-digging, cheating bitch."

Dakota stepped away to the other end of the kitchen and growled. 

"Yes, yes. I knew all along. Who the fuck do you think did this to you?"

The growl grew louder, throatier.

"Aw, do shut up. If you ever want to see Felicia in the mirror again, you're going to have to be a good girl as Dakota."

She kept her distance but stopped growling. Well, except for her eyes, if they could growl, the whole neighborhood would have heard them.

"Now, let's go over the rules, shall we?"

I stood up and walked to the living room. When I noticed she wasn't following, I snapped my fingers and patted my thigh. She still didn't move.

"Can't say we're off to a good start, girl." I smiled. "But that's okay. I have faith you can be trained like any other dumb animal." I snapped my fingers again. She dropped to the floor on her belly. "Okay, fine."

I went to the foyer and grabbed the newspaper from the floor where I had left it that morning, then rolled it into a tight, sturdy "stick," returned to the kitchen, and squatted in front of the disobedient dog. 

"Now, are you going to do what you're told, or do I have to smack you with the paper again?"

No response. 

"Okay. Be that way. I know how to train a bad dog."

I reached with my free hand for her jaw to hold it steady for the swat, but she snapped at me and even bit me in the web between my thumb and index finger. I jerked my hand away and watched the blood trickle into my palm. 

"Oh, no, Dakota. Now you've done it. That's going to cost you, bitch." I grabbed her by the collar, and no matter how she reached for me, she couldn't get loose. "Rule number one is you never, ever, and I do mean never fucking bite me or anyone else." 

I stood up, and by doing so forced her to raise her head and front haunches. Without waiting for her to follow, I dragged her along the kitchen floor behind me. She kept fighting me the entire way, but after a few minutes, I maneuvered her through the living room, the hallway, the laundry room, and finally into the garage, where I let her go. 

She stopped short when she saw the metal frame cage on the concrete floor. Then she looked at me and barked sharply.

"Oh, fuck no, Dakota. You will learn to keep your teeth to yourself."

I walked to the cage and opened the front and held it open. 

"Get the fuck inside, bitch. Now."

She moved her head from side to side, craning her neck to study the cage's dimensions. It was about an inch taller than she was, just wide enough for her to turn around if she struggled a bit. She could be a lot more comfortable but not remotely free nor living in luxury as she would have been roaming the house. 

"Now," I repeated. 

Instead of obeying, she backed away toward the now-closed door heading back inside the laundry room. 

"Wrong way, you stupid mutt."

Another step away from me.

"One."

I swatted the newspaper against my open hand. 

"Two." 

She took a small step toward me, then stopped again.

I sighed. 

"Three." 

I walked to her. Before I reached for her collar, I said, "I will swat you on the nose, and I will get you in that cage, Dakota. How many times and how long you have to stay inside will depend on whether or not you try to bite me again. And do remember that violent dogs can be put down through the county with a single phone call. Don't think I won't do it."

She remained still as I took hold of the collar and pulled her toward the open cage. Before putting her inside it, I smacked her snout three times, each with a loud thwack that reverberated in the garage and rattled the metal sliding door. 

"Much better. Now get your furry ass inside." 

She did, but very slowly, so I smacked her rear haunches to hurry her along. Once she was inside I closed the door and latched it shut. 

"I'll be right back."

She whimpered as I left. 

I went to the kitchen, and I grabbed her bowl of kibble and her water bowl. I took both to the garage and placed them on the floor beside the cage. She was standing with her head sunk low, either humiliated, apologetic, or just beaten. Honestly, I didn't care which. 

I opened a roughly three-inch slot at the bottom of the cage and slid both bowls inside so she could eat and drink. 

"Now," I said, closing and latching the slot. "Maybe we can go over the rules without you acting out and being such a bad dog." 

She barked. It sounded angry. I didn't care. 

"Consider these your Ten Commandments for being Dakota."

I stood up and got a folding chair from against the wall. I opened it and took a seat. Then I reached into my front pocket for a folded piece of paper I had prepared while she slept last night. 

Opening it, I began to read:

1. You are a dog now, and you will remain so until I feel you deserve to change back. This will be my decision, and the only say you have in it will be how obedient a dog you can become. Impress me by being a good dog and you will return to your old life that much faster. Disappoint me by being a bad dog, and you might never see your old life again. When you obey, you will be rewarded with treats and privileges. When you disobey, you will be punished with swats on the nose for minor infractions. More serious punishments will involve the crate. Really serious ones will be much more severe and up to my discretion at the time. 

2. No biting. Ever. Once or twice will result in an extended time in the cage. More than that, you might find yourself in a boarding kennel for a few days. If it doesn't stop, I will have Animal Control pick you up to have you put down. Don't think I won't do this. After all, no one would ever put two and two together and think Dakota was or had ever been Felicia. And if I have to have you put down, I will keep your ashes on the mantle as a reminder of what a bitch you truly were. 

3. No getting on the couch or other furniture. I bought you two dog beds, one for the living room and one for the bedroom. You will rest and sleep on those so you don't make a mess and get your fur all over my stuff. 

4. No going to the bathroom in the house. If you need to go you will do so outside like any other dog. You will go out in the morning, and any other time you will let me know by barking and looking at the front or back door and waiting for me to let you go outside. If you do have an accident, then you will spend time in the crate as a punishment. 

5. Whether you like it or not, you will eat the food I provide for you. That means dry kibble throughout the day. I will provide canned dog food for lunch. I will also provide you with treats during the day as a reward for good behavior. I might even occasionally reward you with table scraps if you deserve them. But if you beg for them, you will find yourself back in the cage. 

6. Each morning, I will take you for a neighborhood walk. You will not complain, and you will not resist when I put the leash on you. You will heel with only a few reminders and you will bark when you need me to let you stop so you can go to the bathroom. 

7. You will go to the vet regularly and will receive all the recommended immunizations and treatments. You will be treated regularly for fleas and ticks as well, even if you haven't shown signs of an infestation. 

8. You will have regular trips to the dog park. When you are there, I expect you to be on your best behavior. I will allow others, adults and children, to pet you and play with you. If a child wants to play fetch or any other game, you will do so without question and without complaining. You will also perform any tricks they command you to do. 

9. Like it or not, you are a dog and your body is that of a dog. That means you will be susceptible to things that any other dog is liable to encounter. This includes the possibility of fleas, ticks, worms, etc. This also means you will go into heat just like every other bitch of your age. This means that I will sometimes restrict your behavior to take care of you and prevent certain bad things from happening to you without letting you know. Your job is simply to obey promptly and without question. 

10. When you go into heat, as your owner, it will be my decision whether to keep you locked away, safe from male dogs, or to let you out and walk you as normal or even take you to the dog park where other dogs will become aroused and want to have sex with you. As long as you are obedient and loyal and friendly, and as long as you follow all these rules, I will not allow random males to mate with you, no matter how much it seems like they might try. I don't mind you being afraid it might happen, but I will not let them mount you unless I feel you deserve such a punishment. On the other hand, I may at some point decide to bitch you out since you are a full-breed Border Collie, and your puppies would bring in lots of extra cash. You will have no say in this, and you will do as you are told. 

As I finished reading, I folded the paper again and shoved it into my pocket. "I'd ask if there were any questions, but I don't speak dog," I said with a sarcastic laugh. 

She barked. 

"I'll tell you what, just this once, let's figure out how we can communicate. I want you to bark three times for yes and whimper twice for no. Do you understand?"

Bark. Bark. Bark.

"Good girl, Dakota."

She whined twice. 

"Oh, you don't like your new name, girl?"

Two more whines. 

"Well, too bad. That's what it says on your tag and on your bowl. So I guess that's who you are. It's also the name that will be on the vet's registrar after your first visit. Besides, what kind of name is Felicia for a beautiful puppy like you?"

Two more whines.

"Enough about that. What's settled is settled. Now, did you hear the rules while I read them to you?"

Three barks. 

"Did you understand them?"

Two whines.

"Oh, do come on. I didn't ask if you liked them, only if you understood them. I can go over them again if I need to. Do I need to do that?"

Two whines. 

"Then did you understand them?"

Bark. Bark. Bark. 

"Good girl. Now we're getting somewhere." I straightened my back and it complained with a cracking noise. "Do you understand what can happen if you don't obey these rules?"

Three more barks. 

"Okay. Okay. You don't want to get your old life back, don't you?"

Two whines.

"And you understand that I'm the only person who can make that happen for you?"

Two more whines. 

"I assume you don't want to be put down and have your ashes displayed on my mantle."

Bark. Bark. Bark. 

"Well, then. You understand what you need to do to avoid that?"

Two whines. 

"Now, because you bit me, you're going to spend the rest of the day in your crate in the dark. I will check on you in a few hours to refill your water and food. But just to make sure you can be obedient, I want to see you eat some of your food now."

I leaned forward and propped my elbows on my knees. 

"Go ahead. Take a bite."

She looked at the food but didn't move toward the bowl. 

"That's one. When I say immediately, I mean you will obey commands immediately. That's going to cost you another day in the crate. Do you want to make it three?"

Her head lowered as much in shame as it was to reach the food. She tentatively opened her mouth and sniffed the kibble. 

"That's it, Dakota. That's all I have for you today, but we can experiment to find a dry food you like better. But you'll have to deal with it for now. So, go ahead, dig it, girl." I grinned. "Unless you want another day in the crate."

I could tell she didn't want to, but she clearly didn't want to be in the crate any longer than she had to. Regardless, he scooped up a small bite and raised her head. 

"Now chew it up and swallow. I can't have my pretty puppy starve to death, can I?"

She did as I commanded and then lapped at the water as if to get the taste out of her mouth. 

"Such a sweet girl," I said, intentionally with all the sweet syrup my voice could muster. 

She lapped up a little more water and then lay down. 

"I'll be back to refill your water and food in a bit. And then I'll come back and take you for a walk then too, so if you have to go, you learn to hold it. If you poop or pee on the floor of your cage, then I'll not only swat you, but I'll also add another day to your crate training to help you learn how to hold it all in until I take you outside. Do you understand, Dakota?"

Two low whines. 

"Excellent. Why not take another bite so I know you won't go hungry? Can you do that for me, please?"

This time she didn't hesitate. She chewed, swallowed, and then washed it down with more water before laying her head down again.

"Sweet puppy," I said. "Much better. I'm gonna put you back in after afternoon walkies, but then I'll come back and let you out to sleep in the house tonight. But tomorrow, you'll go right back into the cage after your morning walk, understand?"

Two more quiet whines. 

I smiled and turned off the light, then closed the garage door behind me. 

3. Accidents Happen. 

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk," I clicked at Dakota when I turned on the light several hours later. The first thing I noticed were her bowls. Both were empty. Even the dry food. I smiled at that. 

The second thing was the odor. 

She lay in a puddle that drained from the side of her crate and ran to a drain in the middle of the garage. 

"Just couldn't hold it in, could you?"

She barked softly three times. 

"Poor thing. You'll learn. But for now, that just means I need to give you more crate training. I'll make a deal with you. Whenever you get through a full day with no accidents, I'll let you out of the crate for the day. Understand?"

Two whines. 

I opened the door and she crawled out. She remained still while I fastened the leash to her collar. I led her to the front yard via the side garage door and walked her to the big oak tree near the road. 

"Well," I said, way more dramatically than I needed to. "Go ahead, Dakota, my sweet girl. Make your pee-pees and poo-poos."

She cocked her head to look at me sadly. Of course, with those black puppy dog eyes, every expression seemed to include a bit of sadness. But she hunkered down anyway and peed all over the base of the tree. Then she squatted and looked away as she dropped her load behind her. When she was done, she all but crawled to stand beside me and looked up as if to indicate she was done. 

"Are you done, girl? Are you sure there's nothing else? We don't want any more accidents, do we?"

This time she didn't respond. I could tell she was humiliated and wanted to shrink away from the whole situation. Like I would allow that.

"I want to make sure you get it all out, okay, girl? I can wait. I'm not in any kind of hurry. You just take your time."

She dropped her gaze to the grass and lay down. 

I laughed. 

"Did that tire you out, sweet girl?"

She barked. 

Her eyes were wet. 

"It's okay, Dakota-pup. We can wait. I won't make you go back in until you finish your business."

After a few minutes, she got up and walked to the tree again. She squatted so that her little puppy privates almost touched the grass, and she released another long stream of urine. 

"Such a good, good girl," I said. "I knew you weren't done yet."

I tugged on the leash.

"All right, let's go back inside." 

She walked toward the front door, but I redirected her to the garage. Once we were inside, I unclasped her leash and left her alone for a moment. I grabbed a ladder and put it under the attic entrance, then climbed up and pushed the plywood "door" aside. Careful not to lose my balance, I slid a plastic dog carrier down and dropped it loudly on the floor. She yelped and jumped at the sudden noise. 

I climbed up again and closed the attic entrance, then back down, and I folded the ladder and put it against the wall. 

"I'm sorry this one is smaller, sweetie, but I'm sure you don't want to spend the rest of the afternoon in your own piss, do you?"

No response, and this time I didn't push it. She was already totally shamed after the display I had made of her in the front yard. The funny thing was that it only seemed like a punishment to her. Anyone passing by would have just seen a regular dog owner taking a regular dog out to take care of business like hundreds of thousands of other dog owners did every day. 

That was the best part. All I had to do was treat her like any normal dog. It was her human mind that made that treatment into a punishment. I was just taking good care of my dog. She was the only one experiencing it as something humiliating.

Well, for now, I was too, but eventually, that would pass. I'd get used to it and thinking of her that way would become second nature. For her though, the sting of being just a dog would burn with every single behavior I manipulated or commanded her to perform. I could have requested the stone to not just change her body but her mind also, to allow her to fight her human personality and react more by canine instinct -- at least as long as she didn't think too hard about it. But I had specifically chosen to leave her mind intact, knowing it would provide all the punishment I wanted her to endure. Letting her think and react like a dog would have been to let her off too easily. If I wanted her to suffer, then I needed her to feel the horror of being made to act like a dog when it went against every civilized, human inclination, that it defied the person she knew she was still inside -- regardless of what shape her body had taken. 

I opened the crate, and its door was much smaller. The whole thing was several inches smaller, designed for safe travel for a dog, not for spending the day crated. But it couldn't be helped. 

"In," I said, as I stepped out of the way to allow her to pass. She hunched and crawled inside the door, then took a few seconds to figure out how to turn around the face the front. "Good girl, Dakota."

She whimpered softly as she lay down and rested her face outside the crate on the cool concrete. 

"Just wait here for a minute. I'll be back with fresh water and some more food. I didn't expect you to eat all of it. I didn't think you liked it that much."

She looked up with just her eyes but didn't make a sound. She seemed broken somehow as if she knew there was no way out but to endure it and follow the rules. 

"Be right back," I said, leaving her alone with the light on this time. I returned with two red Solo cups, one filled with kibble and the other with water. I put them down on the floor and retrieved both bowls from her cage, then filled them and put them in front of her face. "Go ahead, sweet girl. I'm afraid those aren't going to fit in the smaller crate with you, so you'll have to fill up as much as you can before I lock you in."

I left her to eat and drink, and I only heard her munching the food after I turned away to clean her crate. While she fed, I removed the sheet I had folded and put on the bottom of it, and I took it into the laundry room and dropped it into the washer, then ran a full tub for it to soak. 

I returned with a spray bottle of cleaner and coated the inside floor of the crate several times, then wiped it dry with a shop cloth. 

"So much work, Dakota. I wonder if it might not be easier just to sell you to someone better suited to training and raising you." 

She whimpered a bit but continued eating. 

"That's okay. I plan to keep you. I figure after you learn how to hold your pee-pees and poo-poos, you should be a fairly easy little doggie to keep."

I glanced back at her and she stopped chewing. 

"I figure that's better than the alternative of ending up on my mantle at least." I smiled. "It's okay. Keep eating. Nothing to be embarrassed about. You're just a dog, and that's actually pretty expensive dog food. I want you to enjoy it. As long as you remain a good dog, you should eventually learn to just relax and enjoy it."

As though a greedy, rebellious spirit like Felicia could ever do that in a million fucking years. 

Once the cage was clean, I told her to get any last bites or drinks before it was time to go back in the crate. 

She looked at the larger enclosure and whined.

"No, sweetie. Not that one. It still needs to air out, and not only that, but your sheets aren't clean yet. Don't think I'm going to waste more than one bedsheet on you. So you'll have to spend the rest of the day cramped up in this one. But tomorrow you can be in the big one again."

She slinked back inside and I shut the door. It had a double-clicking latch with a space for a small padlock that had come with it, and I couldn't resist slipping the lock through the hole and padlocking her inside the dog carrier. I leaned over to get a good look at her. She was down on her belly, but she seemed so cramped. I gave her a smile, and then left and turned off the light to leave her alone in the dark a second time. 

"I'll be back in a few hours," I said as I closed the door behind me. 

I didn't return until after and early dinner, about six-thirty, and I knew either she would be lying in her own pee again or her bladder would be full to bursting. Either way was music to my ears. 

I was surprised to find her in a dry carrier. I was more surprised to find her remaining still for the leash and then race toward the door and bark. 

"Oh," I said. "You must really have to go, sweetie." 

She barked over and over again, bouncing on her forepaws. 

"Okay, okay. Give me a second, and I'll get the door."

I opened it and followed her, this time, into the yard. She went straight to the big oak and painted it with a fresh coating of urine. Then without missing a beat, the dropped several solid blessings near its base. 

This time I had remembered to bring out a few plastic bags, and I picked up her poop from the rest of the day. When I got to the fresh droppings, I left the bag open and stuck it under her nose. 

"That's yours," I said. "See, you're being such a good girl. You may not need more than three days of crate training if you can keep this up. Get a good whiff. That's right. Your poop stinks, and all the stinks go outside, never inside the house or the garage."

Then I sealed the baggie and placed it on the ground with the other two. 

"Listen," I added. "I know you're being trained, but you're being a good girl now, and I think you should be rewarded. I know that carrier is cramped, so would you like to go for a little walk around the neighborhood to stretch your legs before having to go back inside it?"

She glanced up at me and whined twice, enthusiastically even. 

I grinned. 

"I don't know if you mean it or if you're just playing along, trying to get on my good side, but I'll take it either way. After all, I told you, good dogs get rewards. Bad dogs get discipline."

She whined again and wagged her head in a yes motion. 

I shook my head at her. "Let's add a new rule, Dakota. No more of that head shaking for yes or no. I don't want you acting human at all. Understand?"

She started to wag her head, then stopped and whined twice. 

"To make it easier, let's change it. From now on, just bark three times for yes and twice for no."

Bark. Bark. Bark. 

"Good. So no more human gestures or you get the paper."

Bark. Bark. Bark. 

"Good girl," I said. Then I tugged her toward the sidewalk. "Okay, let's take a walk." 

We circled the neighborhood twice and on the second loop, we stopped by the play area for kids. I wasn't ready to let her interact with children yet. I didn't fully trust her, and if she were to snap -- or god forbid, actually bite one --  then we'd both be in for a world of trouble if the kid's parents were at all litigious. I'd face a serious fine, and she'd risk having the county put her down.

So I kept our distance and we just stood there and watched the kids. 

"As soon as I know I can trust you," I said. "I want to let the kids get to know you. But I have to be sure you can be a sweet dog first. I'm sure that won't be too long. I know you want to be a good dog." 

She whimpered softly.

"Yes, I want you to play with them. I want them to love on you and pet you and feed you treats. I want you to be the best doggie ever and make sure all the kids in the neighborhood love you. You can do that, can't you?"

Three quiet barks. 

One kid came up and asked if he could pet her, but I told him not yet, that Dakota wasn't used to other people yet, and I could tell he still really wanted to, but his mom made him return to the playground. 

"See, you could be having fun with them already, if you hadn't been such a violent mutt this morning." 

She barked twice.

"Oh yes, you were too. I was there. I still have the marks on my hand."

She barked again. 

"Or are you trying to apologize?"

Bark. Bark. Bark. 

"Well, that's sweet, but it doesn't make the wounds go away, does it?"

She looked at the sidewalk, her snout scant inches from the pavement. 

"But you're learning. And I'm sure you'll get there soon, girl."

I tugged on the leash and led her back to the house. 

This time we went in through the front door. Once inside, I unclasped it from the collar and let her roam freely. After hanging the leash on the hook for keys, I watched as she went to the kitchen for her bowls. 

I laughed. 

Then I went out to the garage and brought them back inside. I refilled both and she ate and drank heartily and without any embarrassment this time. She must have been starving after not having access to her food and water during the afternoon. 

As she feasted, I remembered that in my frustration with her behavior throughout the day, I had forgotten to give her the canned food. So I grabbed a full can from the pantry, shoved it under the can opener, and emptied it into another bowl that had her name painted around the side. 

She looked at me as if I were trying to feed her fresh puke. 

"Trust me," I said. "You're little doggie taste buds are going to love this. You just have to get out of your head and trust your body." I broke up the wet lump with a fork so that it spread out in the bowl. "Besides, if you don't, there's always the newspaper, right?"

She took two more bites of the dry food, drank more water, and then stuck her snout above the new bowl. Two sniffs and I could see a change in her eyes. They still held the same sad, black, wet expression as always, but they seemed to shine at least a bit in the edges and corners as if she didn't want to admit something good.

I had a feeling that if I hadn't been watching her, she would have scarfed it down like a truly starving pooch. But I wasn't going to give her that dignity. She was going to have to eat it in front of me. She was going to have to admit that her new dog body liked it despite how much her mind told her there was no way she ever could.

"Do I need to get the paper, Dakota?"

She didn't answer. She just shoved her nose into the bowl and took a bite. Then another. And another. Six bites in, the bowl was half empty, and she lapped more water. 

"See, what did I tell you?" As I spoke I stroked the fur along her back and sides. "This new you is going to learn to appreciate lots of new things. The old you will hate it, but the new you will learn to love them, and that includes new kinds of foods, walkies, and even getting loved on by the neighborhood kids."

She returned to the bowl and resumed eating. 

"I told you that I'd take care of you as long as you're a good dog."

I kept petting her for another moment, then I left her to eat and I went to the living room. I plopped onto the sofa and picked up the remote to turn on the TV. After a few minutes, Dakota walked into the room and stood at the other edge of the couch. It appeared she was about to jump up, so I raised my hand and snapped my fingers. 

"No. No. Bad dog," I said. "Dogs don't use the sofa." I pointed to her cushioned, fluffy oval bed in the corner. "You have your own place. Use that." 

She walked to it, circled once to get all of her body inside the edges, then flopped onto her belly.

"Much better."

I watched TV for another few hours and when I got up to go to sleep, Dakota followed me into the bedroom. I smiled, though I wasn't sure if she were actually wanting to not be alone or just going through the motions of being my 'good dog,' but as long as it ensured the behavior I wanted for her, I wasn't very concerned. 

After I brushed my teeth and changed, I left the master bath and found her lying on her bedroom dog bed, one that looked exactly like the living room one. She rested her face on her paws and kept her eyes on me the entire time as I climbed into bed. 

"Good night, Dakota," I said. "And remember, no accidents tonight. I don't mind you waking me up if you need to go outside. I much rather do that than have to clean the floors and the carpet."

Her eyes lifted. I chose to believe the expression meant, "Whatever you say, owner." I flipped off the lamp and rolled over, not falling asleep until I heard her snoring softly across the room. 

4. Reunited and Examined

She did wake me up once, a little after three in the morning, to take her outside. Apparently, she really didn't want to risk any more days in the crate than she had already earned. She did her business quickly, just peeing this time, and we went back inside and both fell asleep again quickly. 

The following morning, she was up before me and I found her in the kitchen munching on the dry food. She looked up, probably embarrassed a bit at first, then remembering how this behavior was expected "good dog" behavior, she resumed eating. 

"Ready for morning walkies?" I asked. 

After the walk, she went into the crate, lights out, and thankfully had no more accidents. I didn't leave her for more than three or four hours at a time though. No need to torture her any more than I already was. 

Around one o'clock she got a can of wet food and more water. At dinner time, another walk and then she was allowed in the house for the night. 

The third day was the same. 

It was only on the fourth day I threw her for an emotional and mental loop halfway through the morning.

The doorbell rang, and she followed me to it since she was no longer having to endure the crate during the day. When I opened it, Grant Bellows, her lover, stood there, holding the leash to his own male border collie, Grayson. Where Dakota was mostly white-furred, with brown patches over her eyes and on her back and haunches, Grayson was mostly black, with precious little white fur except on his face over his eyes. 

"This her?" he asked, after I invited both of them inside. 

"Yep. Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Oh, absolutely." We went to the living room and sat down, and Dakota trotted directly to him and sat at his knees. I grinned. 

"I think she likes you," I said. 

Bark. Bark. Bark.

At her noise, Grayson barked twice himself. 

"So this guy has fathered a lot of litters, I hear."

Grant nodded. "It's not enough to live the way I want to, but as a side income, it keeps gas in the Lamborgini." 

"Must be nice." 

"You saw it when I drove up, right?"

I wanted to shove my fist into his smug face, but I only smiled and said, "Of course did. How could I miss something that cool?"

He grinned. 

"You have her papers?"

"They're on the way. Should be here later this week, according to the registration place."

"Good, good. Because as pretty as this girl is..." As he spoke, he scruffed up her ears with his fingers. "...we can't proceed without the papers. I have to protect my investment in Grayson." 

"Totally understand. I just wanted to let them meet and I wanted to be able to shake hands with you on this deal."

On the word 'deal,' she immediately shot her face toward me. She knew this man well. She knew his body as she had been his lover for several months. She knew his job and his friends as they had gone out publicly as if my feelings didn't matter. She also knew he had a side income from studding out several of his dogs. Her shocked expression told me she was putting two and two together and not happy with the sum. 

"So Grayson's new to you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Just picked him up this weekend. I had told my girlfriend I was getting a new dog, but I didn't tell her what breed."

"Oh?" I said. 

"Nothing. Old news. We broke up... apparently."

"I'm sorry." 

"It's okay. Anyway, this will be Grayson's first bitch. And after what he cost me, I hope they have a huge litter."

Bark. Bark.

"Quiet, Dakota, or I'll have to put you in the crate."

She shut the hell up but didn't tear her glare away from me. 

It seemed she wasn't as excited to see her lover now as she was when he first appeared at the door.

I excused myself and got us both a beer. While we chatted, Grayson sniffed all over Dakota, and she cowered in the larger dog's presence. I got the feeling she was afraid of what he might do if she tried to avoid his attention. 

And I enjoyed watching that show immensely. 

He didn't stay long, but the visit accomplished everything I had wanted it to. Her mind was no doubt lost in fears of my leaving her with Grant, but not to spend time with him. No. She would be there to spend time with his newest stud dog, Grayson. 

When he left, she walked with me to the door and this time only barked softly as he told me goodbye. He didn't respond to her, but Grayson did, obviously assuming the goodbye was for him. He returned it and then the two of them disappeared behind my closing front door. 

"Did you enjoy seeing your handsome Mr. Bellows again, girl?"

She glared but didn't make a sound. 

"And that equally handsome Grayson too. What did you think about him, Dakota? He's a yummy drink of water for a dog, isn't he?"

She growled softly.

"Watch your tone, dog, or you'll get a swat."

She hushed and started to back away. 

"Where are you going, girl? I thought we were having a good talk about your ex." As I spoke, I petted her head. "And his good-looking new border collie. He's full-breed, just like you. Isn't that convenient?"

I laughed. 

"Of course I couldn't leave something like that to chance, so before changing you, I checked his website and saw the info about the new dog he was getting for his side hustle. I had to make sure you two were compatible. After all, you do remember rule number ten, don't you? I promised to protect your virtue from strays and mutts, but I fully intend to have you produce at least one good litter with a papered stud." I laughed again. "And who better than one that belongs to your ex-lover?" 

She yapped out two quick barks. 

"You don't have a say in this, sweetie. Sorry." 

I returned to the couch and sat down. She took her spot on her doggie bed, looking dejected. 

"Come here, girl," I said, snapping my fingers, and she just lifted her eyes at me. "Be a good girl," I said and snapped them again. 

This time she stood up and walked slowly, defiantly toward me. She stopped a foot away and plopped onto her ass, sitting and staring at me. 

"All the way, sweetie. I want to love on you."

She made a sort of sighing sound that was half a whine and closed the distance between us. "Sit," I commanded, and she did. I scratched her ears and the sides of her face. "Now, doesn't that feel good, puppy-girl?"

She didn't answer, but she did lift her face to give me better access, betraying any pride she might have been trying to hold on to. 

"Awwww," I said, drawing out the long row of w's. "Who's daddy's sweet girl? That's right. You are. You're daddy's sweet girl, aren't you Dakota?"

I moved my fingernails to under her chin and scratched there. In spite of herself, a little snorting sound escaped, and when she noticed it she tried to pull her face away. 

"It's okay to enjoy it," I said. "After all, you're going to be like this for a while. At least until after the first litter. And only then after I feel like you've earned you old life back. And well, as they say, Rome wasn't built in a day." 

She rested her face in my palm again. 

"So the best thing for you right now is to settle down and find a way to enjoy your new life. The less you get hung up about liking the taste of the foot or appreciating the scratches and rubs, the more you'll find your situation far easy to deal with. Maybe even enjoy if you allow yourself. Who knows? You might even learn something. Being a good dog might help you to also become a better person."

Her eyes gazed up at me, wet and black, but she didn't make a sound. 

I resumed scratching her face and making baby noises at her. 

After a few minutes, I slid off the couch and got into the floor with her. I motioned for her to lay down, and then I made a 'roll over' signal with my index fingers. She looked at me confused, then seemed to get it, and rolled onto her back. 

"Good girl," I said. 

Then I went to town on her exposed belly, vigorously rubbing and scratching it. She tried to resist, but it wasn't long before her natural reflexes kicked in and her back leg started to shake from the attention.

"Isn't that cute?" I asked. "Somebody must really like this attention."

She tried to stop the leg but nature wouldn't let her, and I certainly wasn't going to stop rubbing her. 

I loved on her for a few more minutes before I stopped and stood up. 

"Okay, that was nice, girl, but we have a busy day ahead of us."

I went to the foyer and returned with the leash. After snapping it to her collar and led her toward the front door. 

"Oh, wait," I said, then I looped the handle over the lowest post on the stairwell. "Be right back."

I walked to the garage and grabbed the travel carrier. Rather than come back through the house with it, though, I took it directly to the driveway, opened the back of the SUV, and put it inside. I secured it with several bungy cables until it didn't move even an inch, and then I returned through the garage and found Dakota waiting for me, obviously curious. 

"Come on, sweetie," I said, urging her to the door, and out we went. 

She headed toward the oak tree out of habit, and I asked, "Do you need to go, girl?"

Three barks. 

"Okay, go ahead."

She relieved her bladder and then returned to me, facing the sidewalk, most likely expecting another walk through the neighborhood. 

"Not this time, Dakota. We're going for a ride instead."

She gazed up at me, more than a little concerned. It was clear she didn't yet trust me. And that was just fine with me. 

I opened the led her to the back of the SUV, then I opened the door to her carrier and motioned for her to leap up and climb inside. She whimpered and I tapped the carpeted floor of the vehicle. 

"No, girl. We don't have time to play bad girl now. Up."

She jumped into the SUV reluctantly and crawled into the carrier.

"That's a good girl."

I clipped the latch and even fastened the little padlock for good measure and then I closed the hatch door. 

After climbing into the front, I cracked up the car and lowered the radio volume so it wouldn't bother her sensitive ears. But I didn't talk to her. No, I wanted her to wonder what was up. I wanted her to be torn between curiosity and even some fear about where I might be taking her. Of course, if she remembered the rules well enough, it should have been easy to guess. I had already outlined everything for her. 

About twenty minutes later, I pulled into a small parking lot in front of a red brick, single-story building. A separate, similar building could be seen around the back edge behind the main one. The sign on the door read "Redding Veterinary Hospital." 

Of course, stuck in the back in the carrier, she couldn't see anything except the back of my vehicle. She only knew that we had stopped. 

I took my time shutting off the SUV and readjusting anything I could touch just to prolong her wait. She barked several times, neither for yes or no, just to get my attention, but I told her to hush, that her barks reverberated way too loud in the car. 

Eventually, though, I opened the door and got out, then made my way to the back and opened the hatch. 

"I'm going to let you out now, Dakota, but I want to stress how important it is for you to not just be a good girl for today, but the absolute best good girl you can be. Remember the rules."

She barked three times. 

"And this will be a new experience, but don't be afraid. I won't let anything happen to you."

She whined and locked her gaze on my eyes.

"You'll be fine, sweet girl. Just do as your told." 

I clipped the leash to her collar and told her "Down," and she did as commanded. I closed the hatch and let her to the front of the vet's office. When she noticed the sign on the door and stopped for a moment and pulled against the leash. I tugged and told her not to be that way, just be a good girl, and she started following again, but slowly. 

"Heel," I said, and reluctantly she stepped in line beside me. "Such a good girl," I said. 

The moment I opened the door, her little nose immediately started to twitch. So many new smells assaulting her, I guessed. Cats, dogs, and other pets, every animal and person that had been inside the lobby for the past few days, she got all of it. I could tell it took of off guard, so I gave her a few seconds to compose herself. 

"You okay, girl?"

She didn't say anything.

"Just take it all it. It's a lot more than you can smell at the house. There have been lots of other dogs here, and not just dogs." I wanted to say more but didn't dare give away her secret by actually conversing beyond just an owner trying to comfort a skittish pet. "Take a moment. It's okay."

The front glass door closed behind us, but another separated us from the reception area, and I let her wait. Finally, she stood up and pressed her side against me, shuddering slightly. I reached down and petted her. "You're fine, Dakota."

After another few seconds, I told her it was time to go inside, and I opened the other glass door. This time, in addition to the smells, there was lots of noise too. Kids and parents talking to each other. Dogs barking. Cats mewing, even screeching at times. We rounded the edge of the dividing wall and stopped at the counter.

"I have an appointment for Dakota," I said.

The young man in scrubs with paw print designs on them flipped pages on a clipboard. "Right, you're a little early."

"Is that okay? I wasn't sure about traffic this time of day."

"It's fine. It just means you and Dakota here will have to wait a little, that's all, unless I can get you in early. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks."

The man came around the counter and knelt beside Dakota. She cowered into my leg and stared at the floor.

"Aw," he said. "She's a shy one, isn't she?"

"Not usually. But this is her first time in a public vet's office. Everything else was done at the breeder's clinic. She's never been around this many other animals before."

He scratched her head and behind her ears. "She'll get used to it soon, I'm sure. She sure is beautiful though. Purebred, right?"

I nodded. 

"Well, I assume you're going to want to breed her."

I nodded again. 

"I can get you on a list and I'm sure she drum up a lot of interest. If you want me to take some pictures while she's in the back, I can set all that up for you."

"How much does that run?"

"Just a set-up fee of fifty bucks. That covers her page on the website and all the photos. You just supply an email and a phone number and all the interested stud owners will get in touch with you directly."

"That sounds good. Let's do it."

Dakota barked twice, and her sudden noise made me jump. 

"Hush, girl," I said. 

"It's okay," the man said. "That just means she's settling in."

"I'll take your word for it."

I signed all the paperwork the man handed me, and soon we said goodbye to the nice man and joined the already full reception area. I found a spot between an old man with a big German Shepherd and a young lesbian couple with two yap-yap dogs that looked to be at least part Terrier. 

No soon had I taken my seat than the big Shepherd walked closer to Dakota and started to sniff her. As he did so, he growled almost imperceptibly. Dakota scooched back to between my knees and tried to hide under my legs. 

"He's okay," said the old man. "Buster is just curious. He's mostly blind so sniffing is the only way he can see other dogs now."

"She's just skittish. It's her first time around other dogs like this."

"She sure is pretty. Border collie, right?"

I nodded.

I used to have one. Loved that dog. A hunter shot her. He said he thought she was a deer."

The old man suddenly looked sad, and I noticed Dakota looking at him too, still huddled for safety as Buster examined her.

"You're fine, Dakota. Buster just wants to say hello."

My reassurances didn't stop her from shivering. 

"Okay, Buster," the old man said. "Give the poor girl a break. You're a giant to her and she's scared to death." He tugged on the leash and Buster returned to him and dropped on the floor to lie down. 

Of course, about that time, both yap-yaps had realized it was safe to visit the new dog now that the menacing Shepherd wasn't staking his claim. They barked and bounced and generally made themselves annoying while Dakota remained under my knees. Finally, to get them to back off, she barked loudly and growled with exposed teeth. 

"No, Dakota!" I snapped at her, jerking her leash enough to make her almost fall over. "Bad girl." 

She lowered her head, closed her mouth, and stopped growling. 

"I'm sorry," said one of the girls. "It's the breed. They get so excited so easily."

"Oh, she's fine. She needs to learn anyway. She's just used to being the only dog around." I rubbed her head. "Now you be a sweet girl and play nice with all the other doggies, okay?"

She looked into my eyes but didn't respond, neither two barks nor three. 

It was just as well. 

She remained quiet for a while, and I used the opportunity to review my copies of the papers I'd signed. 

The poor girl was in for a barrage of shots today. I could only assume she realized that was going to happen, but she would have no idea how many. Instead of the usual distemper and rabies ones, I had also selected the shots for parvovirus, Adenovirus type one and two, and even the other shots recommended specifically for Border Collies. These included parainfluenza, Lyme disease, and leptospirosis. On top of that, I was also making sure she was getting microchipped. Not that I thought she'd ever run away or get lost, but mostly for the control it would give me over her and for reinforcing her helplessness just knowing that even if she decided to try to leave, she would be found and returned within a matter of hours most likely. Good and truly trapped. 

I also signed her up for a general examination and her first flea and tick treatment, which was also a shot administered just behind her neck. 

I even thought about having her spend the night to sleep off all the shots, but I couldn't resist the temptation to take her back home and watch a tired, groggy puppy stumble and wander all over the house. 

After about an hour's wait, a thirty-something, pretty nurse stepped into the waiting area and called out, "Dakota?" 

I stood up and tugged the cautious dog along with me. The nurse reached for the leash, and I gave it to her.

"You're welcome to come back, but you don't have to."

"I'll wait out here then."

I squatted down to Dakota's level. 

"Now you be a good girl and do what the nice doctor tells you."

She barked three times. 

"And be on your best behavior."

"I'm sure she will be. She's a sweet, sweet girl, I'm sure."

I nodded. 

And then Dakota disappeared for another hour, and then the nurse called me back to talk with the doctor. My dog was resting on the stainless steel examination table with a black muzzle over her snout. Her eyes remained open, but that was the only clue she was aware at the moment. 

"Wow," I said. 

"Yeah, that was a lot of shots, and with all that medication in her system, she's going to be a little groggy for the rest of the day. She might be a little nauseous too, and it's possible her stool might be softer than normal, so you may want to keep a towel under her for a few hours."

The doctor was a pretty blonde, probably not even pushing thirty yet. She had a pleasant smile that said clearly she had no interest in dating a client. 

"Okay. I can do that."

"All in all, she's a healthy dog. She's a little underweight, so you might want to make sure she gets a high-protein diet. When you check out they can recommend a few that will do wonders for her."

"Thanks."

"Now, as to the question of her heat, she should be going into her first estrus anywhere from a few weeks to two months. She's definitely at the age, but you can't schedule these kind of things like a clock." 

"Oh, of course. What happened?"

The doctor shook her head. "Nothing really. She got scared and she snapped at the nurse, so I put the muzzle on her. It was when the first shot went in. Most dogs don't really react because they have no reason to fear a needle. She reacted more like a person would. It's not common, but it's not unheard of. The muzzle was just to be sure. I'm sure she would have been fine."

Of course, she reacted like a person, I thought, just like I had expected. Because inside that pretty little doggie head, she was a person. And Felicia had always been afraid of needles. I smirked but quickly let the expression fade.

"I'm so sorry," I said. 

"Not to worry. I've had much worse. Like I said, the muzzle was just to be sure. I'm sure she won't need it next time."

I doubt that, I thought but kept my mouth shut. 

"Oh," the doctor said quickly. "You are going to add her to our list for mating, aren't you?"

I nodded. "I've already got the first stud lined up, but after that, I intend to see what kind of attention she gets on your website."

"Good, good. Because as young as she is, you can make a lot of regular money on her puppies for years to come."

"My thoughts exactly," I said, and Dakota poked her head up sleepily and barked twice. "Oh, you rest now, girl. You've had a rough day."

5. Patterns and Something New

        Dakota and I fell into a pattern over the next four weeks. Well, after giving her an extra day to rest and recover from the vet visit. 

Mornings began with walkies, taking care of business, and then breakfast. Then, as long as it was a weekday, she spent the day inside until I got home from work. She knew better than to break the rules while I was gone. Once or twice I found dog hair on the furniture and I had to give her a night in the crate, but she changed her tune quickly after that. 

Once I got home, it was more walkies and taking care of business. After a few days of showing me she could be trusted, I started allowing the kids on the playground to pet her. Then I refilled her bowls and we watched TV while she rested on her dog bed. 

After the movie or whenever I got sleepy, she would follow me to the bedroom and take her spot on her bed in my room. 

On weekends, though, I was able to stay home and take her to the dog park. At first, she was frightened among the other dogs and timid around all the strangers, even the children. But after I gave her a stern talking to the evening of the first failure of a park day, she wised up and got out of her comfort zone, well, at least with the people. The dogs still terrified the shit out of her and she cowered behind me or between my legs while curious pooches sniffed her face, sides, and ass.

I was careful to keep my laughing inside and to save any discussion of her discomfort until we returned home. 

I also took her over to visit Grant, her former lover, and made her play with his males several times when she wasn't in heat so she could get used to being around them -- and so they could get familiar with her as well. 

Grant and I would stand around in the yard and drink beer while we watched the dogs play in the fenced-in area. Poor Dakota was so beautiful trapped in the chain link that I couldn't help but enjoy as she tried her best to avoid the attention from the boys, which only made them that much more persistent. Then after giving her lots of time at their playful mercy, I would finally call her back to the gate, let her out, and crate up in the back of the SUV to carry her home. 

She would often bark and whine at me as if she wanted to have some kind of conversation, but I was quick to remind her that she was just a dog, a pet, and I was a human being, her owner. There was just too vast a chasm between us for any relationship other than dog and owner. I was more than happy to talk at her and to give her commands, but the days of talking with her, well, those were over for now, and the more she lived as Dakota the sooner she'd be able to return to being Felicia. Of course, I never revealed how long, of course. Hell, I still was sure myself yet. 

The most fun we had, well, I had with her, was when we started the weekend obedience training. I loved watching her learn not only the verbal commands, which as a human being inside that Border Collie body she excelled at, but also learning to relate those same commands to hand motions for those times when I might not need to yell out commands but still needed her to do as she was told. Those were tougher since I intentionally didn't explain them to her in English but insisted she learn as if she were just a dog with a dog's limited vocabulary and intellect. Still, within two weeks she was picking them up and passing the class with proverbial flying colors. 

I also taught her several tricks, all with accompanying gestures in addition to the verbal prompts. When I made a gun with my finger and pointed it at her, she played dead. When I made a circle with my index finger, she rolled over. When I reached out my hand, she gave me her paw. And finally, if I held up a treat, she jumped for it to take it from my hand. I always rewarded her with rubs and scratches and told her how proud I was she was a good doggie. 

So things went until one evening, she started to whine and rub her groin on the kitchen floor.

"Oooh, I think it's time," I said. 

She looked as embarrassed as an animal could and slunk into a pile of fur on the floor. 

"Don't try to hide it," I said. "It's wonderful. It's Mother Nature at work, after all. And you'll get to go spend a few days with your old boyfriend again. I won't even be there to interrupt you this time." 

She whined. 

"Come here, Dakota." I stuck out my hand, palm up, and she crawled over to me. I twirled my index finger and she rolled onto her back. I carefully inspected her privates and saw they were getting inflamed. I touched them gently. She whined again. 

"Does that hurt, sweetie?"

Two barks. 

"No? Not sore at all?"

Two soft barks. 

"Is it tender?"

Three this time. 

I couldn't resist squeezing her lower lips together, almost pinching them. She squealed, and I let go. 

"Sorry, girl. You just look so cute all swollen up like that."

Where I had smushed her flesh together, I noticed a slight odor, clearly pheromonal escape. Not only that, her entrance seemed to have become moist, but nowhere near wet, like the merest tease of something to come. 

"You've got it bad, Dakota. Okay, get up. I'll call Grant." 

She whined at me and barked twice.

"You know better than to ask that. You're the one who wanted to fuck around, and this time I'm going to let you fuck around all you're able to." 

Two more barks, this time louder. 

"Oh, no, sweetheart. This was the goal all along. The ultimate humiliation. There's no changing back until sometime after you give me a litter of pretty little Border Collie pups to sell." I stroked her head and she barked just once more. "And then we'll see if I'm ready to forgive you or make you have a second litter before I let you change back." 

I stood up and went to the phone.

"Or would you rather wait and do this later and remain a dog for that much longer?"

Two low, defeated barks. 

"Thought so." 

I grinned and dialed the number for Grant's kennel. 

"Hey, buddy," he said. 

"Hey, man. It's time. She's starting heat. You want me to bring her tonight or in the morning first thing?"

"Can you bring her tonight?"

"Sure. It's not that far."

"Good then. I'd like to get started and give the boys more time with her. I can cycle her through since a bitch can have a litter with more than one father contributing."

"That sounds fine. This is all new for me. I trust you." 

When we hung up, I turned to Dakota and grinned. 

"Good thing you don't have to pack a bag to get ready when you like this. The only thing I have to pack is you... right into your crate." I laughed. She whined, then moaned, and looked at the floor. 

"Don't be like that, puppy. I'm sure you're going to enjoy this. Hell, once you're deeper in heat, you'll want this more than ever. You won't even care anymore about anything other than that primal, biological urge to make sure your species continues."

She moaned again and her front haunches slumped like a depressed person's shoulders. 

Dakota may not have wanted to go but she remained obedient. She took the leash and followed me outside, then when I opened the back of the SUV, she jumped inside without a complaint and crawled into the travel crate. As I locked the front closed she shoved her nose out through a hole in the grate and I petted her snout. 

"Sweet girl," I said. "Such an obedient girl." 

Then I checked the lock straps and when I was sure she was secured for the trip, I closed the back of the vehicle. 

Thirty-two minutes later I pulled off the main highway onto the dirt road heading to Grant's "farm" and kennel. He still called it a farm, but it was one only in architecture. There were no crops, no livestock, just barns and fenced-in areas that had once housed cattle and chickens and grown crops. The farm was mainly just lots of room for the dogs to enjoy when they weren't mating with bitches in estrus. 

After parking the SUV, I let Dakota out, and her smell must have been pretty powerful to the canine noses. I heard the stud dogs begin to bark and carry on like I had shown up with fresh steaks. She stopped in the dirt driveway and cowered against my leg. I petted her head and played with her ears. 

"You'll be fine, girl. This is nothing new. You bitches have been doing this for thousands and thousands of years." 

She sort of grunted, but didn't respond in any real way. 

I tugged on her leash and she followed me slowly to the door of the kennel. Grant opened it as I approached, and the barking from inside grew much, much louder, so loud I could barely hear him say hello across the three feet between us. 

"Oh, she's ready, all right," Grant said. "The boys can smell her good now."

I handed the leash over to him. 

"Just dropping her off or do you want to watch? Some folks like to see it for themselves, especially the first time."

I shook my head. "Just dropping her off. Might even go grab some dinner since I don't need to rush home to take her out tonight." 

"Yeah, sounds good. I might too order something from Uber Eats. I just wanna stay long enough to make sure everything gets started all right and there's no issue between her and Oedipus."

"Oedipus?"

"Yeah, it's a name, huh?"

"I like it. It's different," I said. 

I'll give her some time with him and then with Antonio. Then with Delacorte."

"That's fine. I trust you. You know what you're doing. That's why I'm paying for the stud services from a pro." 

He nodded. "Well, if she's fertile, you'll more than make it up even if she only has three puppies." 

The whole time, Dakota shook against my leg, obviously not excited about her romantic night of lovemaking to come. 

"Well," I said, reaching down to pet her one last time. "You have fun now, Dakota, and make lots of babies so we can justify the expense." 

Grant and I both laughed. 

Of course, he didn't know we were laughing at different jokes. He laughed at the idea that the poor dog shared my sense of economic checks and balances. I laughed at the idea that she was being bitched by the dogs belonging to the man she had cheated on me with, the man who had shared my bed with her, the man who had fucked her in the car we had bought together. I laughed again. 

I tried not to be mean about it, but I couldn't help myself. Despite the relative master-and-pet pattern we had fallen into, now that my ultimate goal for her was finally happening, all the rage I had felt when I saw the photos from the spy cam I had put in the bedroom rushed back and I felt it all over again. 

I couldn't wait to see that literal bitch fat and lazy with a belly filled with baby Border Collies. 

Epilogue

When I picked Dakota up a week later, I had calmed down, and I was genuinely looking forward to seeing her again. I wasn't ready to forgive her, and most of the excitement at seeing her was knowing she'd be knocked up with a litter growing in her belly. But the rage was gone. I was still determined to make her suffer, to humiliate her, to punish her, but I also found that I missed having her around the house. Maybe when it was all over, I'd need to get a dog for real. Not for breeding. Just for a friend to have around. After all, it wasn't like Felicia was ever going to come within a hundred miles of me again when I finally restored her. Not after the shit I was putting her through. 

Of course, after Grant's help in making her punishment, she wouldn't want to have anything to do with him ever again either, even though he had been complicit without his knowledge. 

It was a gift that would keep on giving. 

Hell, maybe I'd keep one of the puppies and send her photos from time to time just to keep the memories from being allowed to fade.