The Role of His Life

            “Look, Jesse, I've got you a role, but it's more than a little, let's say, unconventional.” Those were the words that had changed his life. As an actor without a steady income, he couldn't turn down any roles, no matter how unconventional, as long as they paid, and when he found it paid 300k, more than he'd made in the past 10 years, he jumped at the change.

“Esme will tell you all about it,” his manager Jerome had said.

And he found himself shortly in a casting room downtown, talking with a lovely woman in my early 40s with the exotic-sounding name of Esme Goodwin.

“It was Esme Provincia,” she said proudly, “but I fell in love with Todd and became a Goodwin.”

“About this role,” Jesse asked, curious but not trying to be pushy. Jerome didn't say much about

it.”

Esme pointed to a poster behind her. A dog stood in the center flanked by a family and outlined by a mountain range. The movie was entitled “Princess: The Story of a Hero.”

“Cute,” I said. “I assume the dog is the hero.”

“Of course,” Esme responded, smiling. “They always are.”

“What part is it I'm trying out for?”

“You're not trying out for any part, Mr. Hutchens. You already have the part if you want it.” 

“Well,” I said excitedly. “Of course I want it.” She put her hand in the air, palm out, between us.

“Before you give me your answer, perhaps I'd better explain a little more about the role. You see, you'll be playing the part of the hero.”

I cleared my throat. “I'm sorry. I thought you said the dog was the hero.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I did.”

“I don't understand.”

“The way you responded so quickly, I was sure you didn't.”

“You want me to play the dog? Is this one of the bodysuit things where the computer captures movement and then converts to 3D animation?”

She shook her head.

“Just relax, Mr. Hutchens, and I'll explain. You see, working with animals can be tricky, but obviously people in animals don't work either. How many believable gorillas do you remember from the Three Stooges, after all?”

She laughed. I joined her, still more than a little confused.

“What I need, and what has always been beyond our reach, is an animal that could think and perform like and actor. Don't get me wrong, there are several very talented animals in film but even they have their limitations and must often be tricked or coerced into doing what it needed on camera.”

 

“That makes sense, but I don't see—”

“Then I'll continue to explain,” she said, ignoring me. “What if we had the power to take a gifted actor—such as yourself—and transform him or her into the very animal we need for a scene or for a full film? Surely that would be the best way to get the performance we need. Would you not agree?”

I nodded. “I guess so. But that's also straight up impossible.” She grinned.

She showed me a green stone.

It glowed.

Then it shot a beam at me.

The next thing I knew I was sitting in the chair with my vision all off in regards to colors.

Esme showed me my reflection in a mirror she retrieved from her purse.

Holy shit!

I was a dog. A fucking dog.

I opened my mouth to ask her what the hell had she done to me, but I could only bark.

She grinned again and held up the stone once more.

It flashed me with a beam again, and I was me again.

“So you see,” she said after letting me catch my breath, “it's not impossible at all.”

“I stood up and walked to the door.”

“I don't need what you're selling lady.”

“So you don't want the three hundred thousand dollars for two months worth of work?” I stopped.

“So I do have your attention then, Mr. Hutchens...” It wasn't a question.

“What do you need?”

“I simply need two month of your time for a movie. I will transform you into the star of the movie and you will retain all your human intellect and senses, in addition to the new canine ones, and you'll be able to be an actor and an animal at the same time. Instead of having to hired lackluster trained dogs, we'll simply set the scene and tell you what to do.”

“Two months?” I sighed loudly. “I'll be changed back at the end of the day, right?”

“I'm afraid not. We don't want any of our competitors to know how we do it, so you'll have to remain in character, shall we say, for the full shooting schedule. But you'll be well taken care of by a member of my staff who will look after you and know your secret.”

“I don't know. I'd have to be a dog. What guarantee do I have that—”

“The same guarantee that anybody else in life has, Mr Hutchens, none at all. But you'll have a contract. And when it's over you'll have three hundred thousand dollars. Or you could simply walk out of my office and remain broke and forgotten and I could offer the opportunity to another actor. You guys are a dime a dozen in this town, you know.”

God damn it, she had me, and she knew it.

“Can I sleep on it?”

“You have one night. And tell know one of the offer unless you want to be sued for everything you don't yet have. Then, if you decide you want the role, meet me here at seven tomorrow morning to begin. If not, then don't show up. It's as simple as that.”

“Thank you, Ms. Goodwin.”

She smiled. “I'll look for you in the morning if you want the job, Mr. Hutchens.”

I went home, called this girl Monica I'd gone with a few times and she came over. We made out a bit before she had to leave for work as a waitress at a 24-hour diner downtown. Then I joined a few buddies at the bar until 1 a.m. to drink myself into the frame of mind where becoming a movie star dog for more money than I'd ever seen in my life would be a good idea. Even so, I slept fitfully during the night, tossing and turning and constantly waking up.

 * * *

At seven the following morning, there I was, sitting across from Esme Goodwin's desk. We took an hour signing contracts and getting them ratified by notary republics, then when I was finally ready, she asked me to strip—after all, dogs didn't wear clothes, well, not it this movie anyway—and then blasted me with her magic rock again.

Instantly the world grew larger around me and the colors in my world shifted to adjust a a dog's color blindness.

“Perfect, just perfect.”

She led me to a tall, skinny mirror behind her office door. Sure enough, she was standing behind a dog that was an exact match for the cute, white-blonde mutt in the movie poster.

“My god, you're Princess, all right.” She smiled. “Can you understand me?” I barked, trying to say Yes I can.

“Well,” she said, realizing our communication gap. “Let's try that again. Bark three times for yes and twice for no. Can you understand me?”

Ruff. Ruff. Ruff.

“Ah. Good then. Let's try a few things to see how well you can still act.”

Ruff. Ruff. Ruff.

“Let's see. Show me protective, like a loyal pet protecting its family.”

I lowered my head and growled, baring teeth and spreading my forelegs just a bit.

“Perfect. Now jump around like you're happy to see your family at the end of a long day alone in the house.”

I yapped and jumped from back legs to front paws, then pushed up to rest my forepaws on Esme's thighs and let my tongue hang almost two inches out of my mouth.

“That's perfect. Just a few more stage directions to test you. We've seen how well you respond to English directions, now let's see who much you can respond to regular dog directions.”

I cocked my head sideways.

“Sit,” she commanded.

I parked my ass down on the floor.

“Shake,” she said.

I lifted my right paw and gave it to her.

“Switch paws.”

I did, and she took my left paw.

“Lie down.”

I dropped onto my belly.

“Last one,” she said. “Roll over and play dead.”

And I did, presenting my belly to her and hanging my paws limply above me.

Esme scratched my belly, and I couldn't believe how good it felt. I panted and let her continue for a few minutes while she spoke.

“Like that, huh?” she asked, still scratching. “This is going to be perfect. You're going to be perfect. A few things we have to discuss first. Since you're going to be living as a dog for the next two months, there are certain legal issues we'll have to follow for your safety per ASPCA regulations. We know you're really a person inside that doggy brain, but since we're keeping that a secret from the other studios we're going to have to treat you as if you're any other canine on the studio grounds. That means simple things like making you're crated anytime you're in a vehicle to making sure you get enough water—and that will be from a bowl since you're a dog, remember. Just basic things. At night, you'll be crated and taken home with your handler, and she'll feed and bathe you, and then she'll bring you back each morning for filming. You'll have to be on guard and listen to the stage directions even though the director will be speaking to her, not to you. He won't know you're the world's smartest pooch actor, and you can't let anyone find out, so you'll have to get the takes done right without spilling the beans.”

I barked three times.

“Good dog,” she said, and stopped scratching. “Here's your wardrobe.”

She clipped a pink leather collar around my neck, then fastened a heart-shaped pendant onto the

D-ring.

She read it to me: “Princess – A Hero.”

Then it hit me. Princess.I reached between my rear legs and looked. My dick was gone. Not only was I a dog, I was a female dog.

“Took you a while to catch on, huh, Princess.”

Esme laughed.

I barked twice. Then twice more.

“What's done is done, sweetheart. Best not to just enjoy it until your contract is up. Besides, you knew what the movie was about. Did you think we'd hire a male dog to play a female hero?”

I barked once loudly.

“Pipe down, girl,” she said. “We couldn't have your male equipment showing up in a kids' movie about a female dog, could we? How gross would that be? Besides, that doesn't change anything. After the shooting is finished you'll still be changed back and all your old equipment will be returned to you fine and dandy.”

I slumped.

“Well,” she said and clipped a rhinestone pink leash to my collar and tugged. I followed, not that I had much of a choice. “Let's go introduce you to your handler.”

Esme led me back to the lobby, where a young woman in maybe her mid-20s was sitting with her hands folded in her lap. Upon seeing me and Esme enter from the back, she stood up and stepped forward, shaking Esme's hand and then squatting down in front of me. She gave me a hug hug and fluffed the scruffy fur around my neck. I had to admit that felt good. I barked as softly as I could.

“Aw, who's a sweet girl?' she asked. “You are, Princess.”

What little shoulders I had slumped as much as my new body would allow. I wasn't anybody's sweet girl. I was a guy. An actor. This was just a part, although the with the most convincing 'make-up' job I'd ever had thanks to Esme's magic rock.

“Yeah, who like her neck rubs?”

I barked again.

“That's right, puppy. You do.”

The girl stood up.

“I never can get over these transformations, Ms. Goodwin.”

“They're one hundred percent. That's why we have to entrust our actors to special handlers like you.” She smiled.

The girl laughed. “Especially after that unfortunate accident when that one actress got distracted and wander off the lot and was picked up by animal control. It's a good thing she'd only be spayed when you found her. Too much longer and she might have been adopted or put down.”

I jerked my head toward the girl and then toward Esme, my ears alert. I barked several times.

“Oh, don't worry, Princess,” the girl said. “We've got new safeguards in place after that.”

She rubbed my neck fur again. “We can't have you spayed or picked up by the dog catcher, can we? No, not my sweet girl.”

Again with the sweet girl. But the neck rubs were wonderful. Damn conflicting feelings. “Don't frighten the poor thing,” Esme said, then turned to me. “You'll be fine. She's just teasing you. Nothing has ever happened to any of our actors.”

I couldn't help but notice that she shot the girl a quick but intentional glare.

“Anyway,” Esme continued, “Princess, this is Kate Wilkins, and she'll be your handler and caretaker for the next two months. Kate, this is Princess, and she's going to be our next star, so you need to give her the A+ care we expect.”

“Absolutely,” Kate responded. “I'm sure we'll be best friends. Right, sweet girl?”

I barked loudly

“Isn't it three barks for yes and two for no?”

“I think our new star is just not used to being a girl and referred to as one. But she'll get used to it soon, I'm sure.”

“Ah. That makes sense,” Kate said.

“Anyway, until just a few minutes ago, Princess here was an actor named Jesse Hutchens, but he's the one we wanted for the role. He showed the most aptitude for it.” Esme crouched down to my level and petted my head. “Now, I'm sure you'll be fine once your in front of the camera. You're acting chops are, after all, the reason you got this gig. But you're going to really need to put those skills to work most when you're not in front of the camera. No one is to suspect you're anything other than just a very smart and very well trained dog. You understand?”

I barked three times.

“Good girl. Only Kate and I will know who you really are. Everyone else must believe you're just our newest canine movie star.”

I barked thrice again.

“Good girl. Well, I've got lots more meetings to attend today, so I'm just going to leave you in Kate's capable hands,” she said, handing the girl my leash, “to get you started on your new life of being a pampered pooch like Lassie and Benji and Beethoven.”

“This sweet girl is in good hands, Ms. Goodwin. I'll take great care of her. She'll be positively spoiled by the time I”m done with her.”

Esme smiled. “I'd expect no less, Kate.”

Then she said goodbye and disappeared back into the offices beyond the lobby.

“Ready?” Kate asked, giving me a huge smile.

I barked three times.

“Good puppy. What a sweet girl.”

Without another word, she tugged on my leash, and I followed her outside to the sidewalk. Then she tugged again and said, “Heel.”

I glared but it was to no avail since she didn't look back at me. Instead, she simply tugged a little harder and repeated the command.

It couldn't hurt to get used to acting like a real dog in public, so I sucked it up and picked up my pace to walk beside her. She smiled and reached down to pet me as we kept moving. “Told you you were a sweet girl, didn't I? Already know how to heel.”

I assumed she was saying this for the benefit of the people around us.

She walked me at a heel down to the corner and then halfway down the next block to a four-door sedan that could have been any number of colors. My ability to distinguish them had diminished to match the regular eyesight and color recognition of a dog. She opened the back door and told me, “In, girl.”

I looked up at her but got in anyway. On the opposite side of the seat was a pet carrier that looked o be just small enough for me to fit comfortably without a lot of room to move around.

 

“I know it looks small, Princess, but that's for you own protection. The less you can shift around in there, the less you're likely to be hurt while I'm driving. And believe me, neither of us wants you to get hurt. It that happens, not only would I possibly lose my job, but you might also have to extend your time as Princess because they couldn't start filming until after your broken bones healed.”

I barked resignedly and climbed inside the carrier. She locked me in, then fastened the seatbelt through the catches to lock it safely in the back seat.

 * * *

After almost an hour stuck in traffic and listening to apparently Kate's favorite top 40 radio station, I was more than ready to be out of the carrier and out of the car. My new dog body was not designed for long times cooped up in a moving vehicle. When Kate let me out and I stepped onto her driveway, I took a few unsure steps before I felt comfortable again.

She clipped on the leash and led me inside.

When she closed the front door behind us, she looked down at me, smiled, and say, “Sit.” I just looked up her, hoping she got my message of “Ain't gonna happen, kid.”

“Okay,” she said, and went to the kitchen. I followed her, curious, and she went to a drawer on the island, then pulled out another collar. I tried to pull away, but she held my leash and kept wrapping it around her wrist until we were almost eye to eye. Then, without expending hardly any effort, she easily latched the new collar around me neck.

After that, she let go and stood up again, even unclipping the leash from my regular collar.

“Let's try this again,” she said.

She reached into the drawer again and grabbed a small remote, about the size of a keyless entry

device.

“Sit,” she commanded.

I just stared at her.

She pressed a button on the remote and my world exploded in a charge of pain. Electricity shot from my neck to my muscles all over, then stopped and I was panting.

“Sit,” she said again.

Then another shock wracked my doggy body.

“Sit,” she said, and for damn sure I plopped right onto my furry dog ass that time.

She petted my head. “Good girl. A little stupid, but it seems you are trainable.” She laughed as she held up the remote for the shock collar.

I barked.

She ignored me and headed to the living room. “Come,” she said and I got up to follow. “Heel,” she added and I trotted to catch up, but I was apparently too slow and she zapped me again.

How could she be treating me just like any other dog? She had been so sweet to me, if a little patronizing, at Esme's office. What had happened?

I caught up and we walked through the living room, to her bedroom then back out. To the guest bedroom. Then her exercise room/office. Then back through the living room and kitchen, all the while with me at a heel by her side.

Finally she stopped at a closed door. She opened it and I could see it was the garage. I didn't dare move until she did. The last thing I wanted was another shock for not heeling.

“Go,” she said.

I went.

“Don't pee on anything. If you need to go, there's a pad over in the corner. Use that. I'll put a new one down in the morning.”

Then she closed the door and left me in the mostly dark. With my new dog eyes and the little bit of light coming in through the tiny garage door windows high on the garage door, I could see well enough to get around.

She returned once a few minutes later to give me a full bowl of water and some dry kibble, then left again without a word.

 * * *

In the morning I was wide awake when I heard Kate open the door, and I ran to her, determined to make a fresh start and try not to do whatever I had done to piss her off the day before. If I wasn't going to have to be Princess for two months, then I certainly wanted to make it as endurable as possible and didn't want to spend the time as a prisoner in Kate's garage.

She snapped her fingers at me and said, “Come,” and I bounded inside. “Heel,” she commanded, and I remained at her side all the way from the garage through the foyer and living room and to the kitchen door leading outside. She opened the door and motioned me out. “Go do your business,” she said.

I barked twice.

She raised the remote and I went out without giving her time to push the button. Had I become that easily trainable? So afraid of the shock collar?

She stood at the door and kept an eye on me, and after I had peed and pooped in her back yard, the opened the door to allow me inside again. After closing the door and locking it again, she walked to the living room. I dared not move until she told me.

She looked at me, still waiting and looking at her from the kitchen, then smiled. “Come, girl.” I came. I came all the way to where she had taking a seat on the sofa, and when I reached her knees, she said, “Sit.”

I sat, my eyes locked on the remote for the collar.

“Good girl,” she said. “Now shake.”

She hung her hand in the air between us, and I reached up my paw to touch it.

“Switch.” I dropped the first paw and used the other one.

“Circle,” she said making the motion with her index finger for me to spin around. I did.

“Such a sweet girl this morning.”

I wanted to ask her why she was doing this, but honestly I was happen enough at the moment just to be out of the garage and not getting shocked.

“Lie down,” she instructed, and I dropped my my below on her hardwood floor.

“Roll over.” And over I went.

“Play dead.” I stopped on my back.

“Sit up,” she said.

I wriggled myself around and back to a sitting position.

She pointed her fingers at me like a gun. “Bang,” she said.

I looked at her with a confused glance.

The collar went of and my brain seemed to explode with pain.

“Maybe still got a little bit of stupid in you, huh, Princess?” I only whimpered.

“Let's try that again.” She made a gun with her fingers. “Bang.”

This time I got it. I dropped to my side and rolled onto my back with my forepaws limp and dangling above me.

“Who's a smart girl?” Kate asked. “Why's mommy's sweet girl, learning her tricks?” She climbed into the floor beside me and rubbed my neck fluff and then my belly. “Awww. Does Princess like her belly rubs? Or course she does. She's such a sweet girl.”

She got up and sat back down on the couch. I stood up and lifted my front paws to jump on on the couch beside her, but she zapped me and I backed away.

“No. Bad girl. This couch is linen. That means no pets on the couch. I can't have you rip a hole in it or get your fur all over it. There's plenty or floor for you to play in and sleep in, Princess. But no getting up on mommy's furniture.”

I slunk over to the corner and lay down, but she was having none of it.

“Come here, girl. I'm sorry I had to be so mean, but you have to learn the rules.” She snapped her fingers to call me over, and since I really had no choice, I walked to her. “Now you just lie down at mommy's feet like a sweet girl, okay.”

I did as she commanded and before long I fell asleep. When I awoke I was alone on the floor. I listened for Kate and picked up her voice in the master bedroom. I walked to her quietly and from the hallway I heard her half of a telephone conversation.

“You should see her. She's the cutest thing. I've been teaching her tricks this morning and she's super cute when she gets it right. No, she doesn't have any idea who I am. Why do I keep calling her her? Because that's what she is, silly. Until this movie is over, she's a full on bitch dog. It's almost delicious in its irony, isn't it? Yeah, I'm sure she's pretty confused right now, trying to wrack her stupid little doggy brain to figure out what she did to make me treat her like this, but it doesn't matter.”

I went back downstairs.

Oh shit.

For some reason Kate was trying to get some kind of revenge me. But I had never met her before. So why?

I lifted my head and watched as Kate came in. She grinned and passed by into the kitchen where she poured me a bowl of kibble and fresh water. Because of my new dog taste buds, the kibble didn't taste bad, other than being dry, and the water took care of that. Thank goodness for small favors, right?

 

While I was nibbling, she shouted out, “Sit,” and down my ass went.

“I didn't even have to use the remote that time, sweet girl.”

She petted my head.

“Well, I've got to run some errands, and since you aren't needed at the studio until Monday, feel free to wander around the house, but,” and as she spoke she glared, “don't you dare get on the furniture. If I find so much as one hair on that couch, I'll swat your snout with a rolled up magazine. Do you understand, Princess?”

I barked three times timidly.

“That's my sweet girl,” Kate said and left me alone in the house.

In a moment, she unlocked the door and walked back in.

“Almost forgot,” she said and went to the garage. She returned with a puppy pad. “For you if you need to do your business while I'm gone. Only on this pad.”

She laid the pad in the guest bedroom floor, then told me “Toodles” and left the house again. This time, I heard her car drive off, and I knew I had the place to myself to snoop around and try to figure out just what the hell was going on.

I trotted to her bedroom first and sniffed, intoxicated by the degrees of scent and odor I'd never been able to distinguish before with my human nose. I could tell Kate's scent from any other, I was sure, and even from so far away I wouldn't recognize her by sight. The mixture of powerful scents in the bathroom convinced me to leave that room quickly as it overwhelmed my new fledgling super-powered dog nose.

I stood up with my forepaws on her nightstand and saw a lamp, and her phone charger and a romance novel. So I went to her dresser. I had to stretch out long and far to get my eyes up there, but I found what I needed. There were three framed photos of Kate and Lena, a girl I had dated a few months ago. And it hadn't ended well. I had been a jerk and slept around then dumped her via text while she was waiting for me at a restaurant for a date.

I grabbed the stool from her bathroom and pulled it with my teeth into the bedroom, then I stepped into the chair, then to the dresser and picked up the photo of Lena and Kate and jumped back into the floor, knocking several of Kate's things over in the process.

Oh well, in for a penny in for a pound. And when I presented her with the photo, there wasn't going to be any way to avoid admitting I had been on her dresser anyway.

I did pull the stool back to the bathroom and push it under the make-up area though. Then I picked up the framed photo in my teeth and went to the foyer to wait for Kate and ambush her with the evidence.

When she opened the front door, I picked up the photo again and lifted it to present it to her. She entered with her arms filled with grocery bags. When she noticed the photo, she only smiled.

“Looks like someone was a bad girl and got on my furniture even after being told not to.”

She took the groceries around me, dropped them in the kitchen and returned. She took the photo from me and looked it over.

“You recognize her, don't you, sweet girl? Yes, that's Lena, the girl whose heart that bastard Jesse broke when he cheated on her. It's a good thing that it's just us girls here now, and that's old bastard isn't anywhere around. Isn't it?”

She smiled as she traced over the picture of Lena with her thumb.

“That dumb son of a bitch hurt her really bad. I always said if I ever got my hands on him or saw him again I'd really make him pay.”

I whimpered.

Perhaps I hadn't thought through my idea of confronting her in my current state.

She stood up and walked to the living room. “Heel,” she said.

I heeled. No need for the zapper. I was learning in spite of my pride.

“Good girl,” she said. “Sit,” she said when we reached the coffee table.

I sat.

“Good girl. But getting up on my furniture was a very bad thing. And getting into my stuff was a very bad thing. So, for those two bad things, you get two swats on your snout with the magazine.”

I whimpered, not wanting the swats, but at least it wasn't the shock collar.

She grabbed a copy of Cosmo, rolled it up, then whacked me hard across the nose.

I changed my mind. The magazine hurt worse than the zapper. My tender nose felt like it had been hit with a brick.

I yelped loudly.

She whacked my snout a second time. I yelped again, then lowered my head and tucked my tail between my legs instinctively.

The worst part wasn't the physical pain though. The worst part was that she was treating me as if it didn't matter. As if I was just a dog who had been a bad girl. As if I wasn't growing more terrified by the moment of what she might have planned for me.

I started to back away.

“Stay,” she commanded, and without even thinking about it I stopped. Just one night as a dog and I was already becoming conditioned to her commands. Just what did that stupid magic rock do to me?

She petted my head between my ears.

“Now, just because you were a bad girl, it doesn't mean I don't love you.” She sat on the couch and left me sitting in front of her.

“And as long as you remain a good girl, we'll get along just fine. But if you start to act like that bastard who hurt Emma, well then I would have to get very mean, and while, sure, in two months when your contract is up, you could have me fired, can you imagine the stuff that could happen to a sweet puppy like you in that time? Some many things could go wrong. Lost and picked up by the dogcatcher if I accidentally took off your tag and collar. Maybe get spayed. You could even get pregnant. I'd imagine you'd have to stay a dog at least until the pups were born in that case since the magic can't be used to kill, not even those sweet babies that would be in your little bitch womb.

“So, you can either pitch a fit and be a bad dog, or you can accept your training, do what I tell you, and be a good girl and follow the rules, and we'll be great friends. But the one thing you will not do is be that prick Jesse Hutchens. Princess will be welcome and well taken care of, as long as she acts like I expect Princess to behave—just like a good dog should. Jesse, on the other hand, will get your doggy ass in deep shit really fast, even if it costs me my job.

“Are we clear, Princess?”

I barked three times softly.

“Good girl. I knew you'd see it my way. Now, lie down at my feet and be a cuddle puppy.” I had no choice. I lay down.

“See, that wasn't so hard. Now, as long as you are obedient and do as I tell you, things will go smoothly for you. You won't have it easy, I'm afraid, but it won't be so bad ultimately. I'm sure it'll be a little embarrassing, maybe even humiliating, to have to be a real dog even in the off time when you're not on set, but it won't be so bad, and it will only be what you deserve for hurting Emma. A fair trade off, if you ask me.

“Starting Monday, I'll take you to the set, and you'll be my well-trained acting dog. You'll take direction from the director but you'll do it in such a way that makes it look like you're taking instructions from me. Understand?”

Three soft barks.

“Then when we come home, you'll be my sweet girl puppy for real. You'll do what I say and live how I tell you. No human advantages. I'll take you for walks, and to the park, and you can sleep at my feet and get all the neck scruff rubs you want. But if you expect me to have conversations with you other than when I need to, or to treat you like a person, you're sadly mistaken. I'll be your owner and trainer, and you'll be my dog. That's the relationship, period.”

I whined softly.

“Oh, don't complain, Princess. After all, you're going to be a movie star.”

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