Dog - Day After Day Ch. 10

It's Wednesday afternoon and I've been locked in the dog pen since morning. Mooching around the ten foot by ten foot by four and a half foot high wire mesh pen on all fours. In the doghouse, in effect. I've been a naughty doggie it would seem. Dared to question Mary, my owner's, calculation of the length of time that she will keep me trapped in this stupid pet play game. Just as I wondered when I might see Mary, in order to apologise profusely and get back in her good books, the back door of the house opened and Mary came out. She was followed by a younger woman.

They both stepped briskly over towards the dog pen. Mary held some lumpy bunch of fabric in her hand. She was speaking to the visitor as they approached. I could overhear them. They were talking about me, in that offhand way, like I wasn't there, or that it didn't matter that I could hear. As if I were just a dog.

'.. and this is the pet dog that I told you about, Maria. You'll be looking after him. That means feeding him. Cleaning up after him. Taking him out for a walk every day. Usually he is no problem, but sometimes you have to be firm with him.'

I imagined this is what an animal in a cage in the zoo feels like as the public drift by and stop and look, in the casual and disinterested way, at the specimen in the cage. Stuck in my wire mesh enclosure. The low mesh roof of the cage forcing me to stay squatting down on all fours. The two people on the other size of the wire standing tall, towering over me, talking about me, yet ignoring the real me. The real me that was inside the cage, the real me that was trapped inside the dog suit. They couldn't see the real me. To them, I just wasn't there.

'Useless! Come over here and sit,' Mary ordered sharply as she came up to the wire mesh. Just showing off, I decided. Showing how she can order her useless dog of a husband around, and how quickly he obeys. Impressing this Maria, this potential house cleaner/dog minder. Showing her how to handle this human pet with authority. How to make it respect you. I wasn't going to prove her wrong. Not now anyway. Already in enough trouble with my owner.

'Woof,' I answered briskly and obediently trotted across in front of them, where I adopted the regulation 'sit' position. My hunkered knees spread wide, arms down to the ground either side, my balls and cock lewdly displayed for all to see. My head up attentively, looking eagerly at my owner through my doggie head harness, but also aware I was the subject of this Maria person's judgement. Would she take this weird role on board as part of her job, or would she walk?

Maria was trying to rate the job, no doubt. Figure out how much effort she'd have to put in to this task. She'd probably like to have two or three other cleaning jobs going at the same time. The cogs turning in her mind. What to make of it? A grown man on all fours, extra-long arms, dressed in a dog suit and doggie head harness, his balls and cock, thinly disguised in dark mesh, hanging between his legs, a big black tail sticking out the back from his rump.

While she eyed me up through the wire mesh of the dog pen in a calculating sort of way, I felt my cock begin to stiffen and lift before her gaze. It was due to the utter humiliation of being so exposed, to be casually looked at and inspected by some young woman in off the street. And having to just squat before her, so nakedly and wantonly displayed. The first tingling, stinging zaps hit my swelling cock and I convulsively jerked in place, still holding the 'sit' position. To Maria it probably looked like I was trying to fuck fresh air, or put on some pathetic demonstration of sexual prowess for her benefit. She looked questioningly at Mary.

'Don't worry, Maria. It just means he likes you. The dog is not allowed to have sex. He gets excited easily.'

Maria returned her gaze to me as a stronger zap hit and my erect penis bounced stiffly in place. It looked like I was having a dry ejaculation or something, but she focused on my face, looking into my eyes, ignoring my pathetic needy cock.

I guessed that Maria really needed this job. It was probably the first bite she got since she distributed the flyers last night. Mary and I had talked about it this morning, it was only lunchtime now and here she was.

She appeared to be a sensible and practical type. The sort that would make sure that there would be no doggie screw-ups on her watch. If she was, as I suspected, a recent arrival from the other side of the Rio Grande, she'd be delighted to take any sort of paying job. She'd make sure to properly complete anything she's asked to do, even wiping the bum of a grown man dressed as a dog. She'd probably heard that these gringos got up to some strange things. She was prepared for that. She'd move on to something better as soon as she could. In the meantime, it'd do as a start.

I could sense Maria arriving at this conclusion, deciding that this, while far along the scale of strangeness, was doable. Making up her mind, she turned to Mary, nodding her consent.

'I can do this, no problem,' she said calmly. 'What name you call him, this dog?'

'I've decided to call him 'Useless.'

So that's it, I thought, glumly, Mary really is going to stick me with that horrible name.

Maria was looking me in the eye again, holding me in her gaze. She nodded at me slowly. Willing me to submit to her position over me, to accept her for what she was now, that she ranked above me in the pecking order, that she was someone who could boss me around.

'Hi, Usted. You be good dog for Maria?'

'Woof,' I replied, looking back up at her before looking down and away. The doggie sign of submission. Her eyes were hard. She knew she was dominating me with that look. I was getting the feeling that this lady would take no shit.

I glanced over at Mary. Time to do my bit of grovelling. 'I'm sorry about this morning. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about nothing.'

'Well you did, Useless. But good that you can recognise that fact, now that you have had a couple of hours to think about it. '

I knew I was treading on dangerous ground here, but bravely decided to give Mary a steer on changing my doggie name. I wanted something I could live with yet was still a sufficiently put down name to satisfy her wishes.

'Is Useless really going to be my name? I mean, most people won't recognise it as a dog's name. There are lots of generic dog names you could use, like Spot, or Rex, or Champ, or Lucky.'

'When I look at you I don't see a Champ or a Lucky. I see an Awkward, or a Clumsy, or, best of all; a Useless. I already told you this morning that is what I shall call you. My decision, note. Not yours to question. Yet you are still doing it. You are truly useless as a dog. Will you never learn? Get used to your name. It's Useless.'

Mary was sticking to her guns, At least she didn't seem too worked up about my attempt at changing her mind, despite the severe put down of her reply. She briefly opened the cage door to throw the fabric bundle in my direction. It bounced off my chest and landed between my knees. A furry dog toy. Nice.

'You can play with it, or chew on it. Might help pass the time till you go asleep tonight.'

'Woof. Thanks. I will.'

'See what I mean Maria,' I could hear Mary saying, as they turned to go back into the house. 'He can be a bit difficult at times. You just have to be firm with him.'

Locked inside the pen, I watched as Mary and Maria walked back towards the house. Mary talking, gesticulating, issuing instructions, no doubt. Maria still nodding, taking it all in, or understanding only half of it. Hard to know. Mary probably saying he's easy to manage, really no trouble. Probably telling her that she can ignore me most of the time. 'Just leave him in the pen and get on with cleaning the house,' she'd say. Something like that.

Age wise, I'd guessed Maria was in her mid-twenties. Strong and stocky, a bit of a barrel shape, full thighs. Agricultural background I'd guess. Used to heavy lifting and hard work. Used to handling animals, making them do what you wanted them to do. Straight black hair, parted in the middle, medium length, touching her shoulders. Her face was classic Mexican; brown eyes, sallow skin, and full luscious lips. Not that I'd be getting anywhere near them. The back door closed, leaving me alone to ponder my new situation.

Fine by me if Maria calls me 'Usted' rather than 'Useless.' Makes more sense to her and I certainly prefer it. But from Mary's perspective, I'm definitely 'Useless' from now on, it seems. And to think that I felt 'Rover' was a bit of a put down. Sure 'Rover' was a constant reminder that I was a dog, but that was as far as it went. 'Useless' is a daily, constant, reminder that, as far as Mary is concerned, I'm not only a dog, but I'm also a good for nothing dog. 'Useless' is an insult.

I had plenty of time to think about my situation since being locked in the pen after our morning disagreement. I accepted that I'd handled it badly. I shouldn't have been so pernickety. We could have had a grand conversation about this and that. But at the same time, it was Mary who had chosen to escalate a minor query about the length of the pet play into a major blow-up.

Focussing on the positives, I decided this was a sign that Mary was getting fed up of the whole pet play game too. And that's a good thing, because, if she wants a way out, she will find a way out. That's her 'can do' thing. The obvious way out is to give up on whole pet play business right now. But, knowing Mary, she needs to find a way to do that without losing face. In any case, she won't even begin to think about ending it until after the barbeque on Saturday. That's because she's told the neighbours about our pet play game and said they would see me there as her dog. So no way that's not going to happen. That box will be ticked.

By mid-afternoon, following hours of being stuck in the pen with nothing to do, I was fed up. I certainly wasn't going to play with the furry animal toy the Mary had flung at me. It was a pink and blue fluffy shark with an open shark mouth that was all red inside. It had some sort of firm core. No doubt so that dogs could chew on it. I ignored it.

Exercise is the answer to boredom, I decided. Just like they do in prison to pass the time. I flexed my fingers inside their dog mitts. Lifting them off the stilt grips, rolling my wrists. The stilt extensions were worse than just having simple glove like mitts when it came to trying to using my hands. When I brought my hand, or the place where my hand was inside the extended mitt, up to my face, was like rubbing my face with a thick pipe covered in black furry nylon. There was no sense of touching yourself.

The fact that my arms had been trapped in there for almost 5 days couldn't be a good thing. I took up the 'sit' position and started lifting my arms over my head, they soon banged into the low mesh roof of the pen. Instead I tried swinging my arms horizontally, over and back. I had completed about twenty arm swings when Mary came out of the back door and up to the dog pen. She was all smiles.

'I have a treat for you, Useless. Come here,' she said, pushing the tip of a frankfurter through the mesh while holding the other end in her fingers. I hadn't eaten any meat since last Friday. This was really a treat. I badly wanted to grab it between my teeth and pull it into the pen. But what if she's just toying with me? What if she pulled it away just as I reached out for it? It also means I would be acknowledging that my name was now 'Useless.' I hesitated.

'Come on, Useless. It's a peace offering. I was a bit hasty with you this morning. And you have apologised for questioning me. This is my way of making up. Come on. Eat your treat. There's a good boy.'

Tough call. I had my pride, but, since she was just going to keep calling me 'Useless' anyway, why miss out on a tasty treat? And if I refused to take the treat she'd probably give me no evening feed, out of spite. So I moved over to the wire mesh and reached out my mouth towards the sausage. I was half ready to suffer the humiliation of being made a fool, but I still did it.

'Good Boy.' Mary cajoled me, pushing the frankfurter fully in through the mesh and letting go. It dropped to the ground before I got my mouth around it. The doggie head harness limited my vision a bit and maybe that was why I missed it. Or maybe she just wanted to force me to eat it off the ground while she was watching. I didn't care. I just wanted the frankfurter. I was so sick of crunching dry, gritty lumps of weird fish and chicken mix flavoured kibble until they turned to a sticky mess in my mouth. The prospect of enjoying a nice tasty bit of sausage meat was heavenly. I didn't want to rush it, to gulp it down. I'd prefer to make it last, savour each bite. So I looked back up at her and decided to play nice.

'Woof. Thank you. I'm really going to enjoy that and take my time eating it.

'That's good, Useless. Now, before you get down to eating, let's me tell you how I'm going to improve your dog life.'

'Woof.' This sounds good.

'First off, I decided to stop the aversion therapy. I don't think it was working anyway. I'll even switch off you cock cage shocker now,' she said, fiddling with the app on her phone. 'There, it's done. But the ball zapper is still on, just to warn you. I'll use it if I have to. Okay?

'Woof. That's fine by me. I really do appreciate you stopping the aversion therapy. It was misery.'

'Well, life is never a bed of roses, even for a dog. But that's one thing you can forget about. And... big bonus; I'll even let you hump my leg occasionally, starting tomorrow morning. How's that sound, Useless?

'Woof. That's great.' I nervously felt my cock already beginning to grow and swell at the thought of a bit of action, stretching against its mesh enclosure. No tingles, no zaps, no shocks followed. Phew!

'It's not as if you have been denied sex for months, Useless. As I recall, you gave yourself a good time last Friday night, and we are only at Wednesday afternoon now. You can't be suffering from blue balls yet'

'I know. But it's great that you are going to allow me a bit of domestic doggie sex action,' I quickly replied, laying it on thick. I so want to keep her good mood going. Put this morning's spat behind us. 'Humping is very much part of the pet play thing, so we should try it. You never know. I might fall in love with your leg. I might even get to go all the way with your leg.'

'Very funny, Useless. Or, I might zap your balls if I think you are getting too much enjoyment out of it. But we'll see how it goes tomorrow. Give you something to look forward to while you are lying in the dog house tonight.'

'Woof. By the way, I've been wondering how I should address you when I am talking to you. I know you don't want me to use your own name. How about Madam, or Mistress?'

'No. I am your owner and you are my dog. That's our relationship. So if you must call me something say 'My Owner.' That will remind you that I am your owner. And, seeing as I am your owner and you are my dog, I can call you whatever I want. Ha, ha.'

'Woof.' I felt that was better than nothing. Better to have an agreed form of address. Not knowing what to call the person you are speaking to felt strange. It stilted my side of the conversation, at least. Of course, Mary, as she pointed out, had no such difficulty.

'Now more good news, Useless. I'm changing the rules of the fetch game. First. I am increasing the time I allow you to get the ball back to me from twenty to thirty seconds. And second. If you do get it back to me in that time, you will earn a two weeks reprieve off your dog life, instead of one. You like that, Useless?'

'Woof. That's really terrific,' I replied, and I'm sure it was. But I was finding it hard to concentrate on what she was saying, because of her constant use of 'useless' when referring to me. It had started bugging me since she'd first used it when she was showing me to Maria. I'd tried, nicely, to get her to use some other name then, but she'd just blown me away. It's just hard to ignore such a total put down, to pretend it's just a name and doesn't really mean anything. Because it does. It means she thinks I'm useless and is letting everyone else know it, like Maria, like all our neighbours at the barbeque on Saturday, if she gets the chance.

My resentment grew each time Mary kept sticking me with the 'Useless' label. And she was doing it constantly. But I needed to pay attention. Mary had more good news.

'I was a bit short with you when you went out beyond the back yard boundary yesterday, Useless. I remembered afterwards that I had said you could wander anywhere whenever I left the pen door open. I just got worried when I couldn't see you in the yard. I thought you might have run away or something. Silly me.'

'Ha, ha. No. I mean, woof, woof. I was just exploring.' Does this woman have sixth sense, I wondered nervously.

'Well, I have the solution. I'm going to get a tracker tomorrow and attach it to your collar or your head harness. That way I'll always know exactly where you are, and needn't worry. You can feel free to wander about and explore as far as you like.'

'Woof. That's great,' I responded dutifully, despite knowing well that wouldn't really feel free when she 'knew exactly where I was all the time.'

'So are we friends again, Useless?'

'Woof,' I replied, even as the constant 'Useless' name calling totally spoiled the good vibe that all these improved conditions should have given me. I really wanted to tell Mary to stop calling me Useless. It was just grinding away at my sense of self-worth. All I could hear her saying was; you're useless, you're useless, you're useless, over and over. And the fact that I seemed to be just accepting it, implied that I was going along with the fact that I was useless.

It was making me feel negative and suspicious. Maybe all this 'let's be friends again' thing was just another trick on her part. How could Mary claim she wanted to be friends, yet persist in calling me useless? Was she was just building my hopes up with all these improvements in my living conditions in order to smash them later with some hidden twist?

There was no point in trying to object to my new name once again. No point in coming right out and tell her why I hated it. I'd already tried easing her away from using that name when she was showing me to Maria. To revisit the issue would be interpreted as more than arguing; outright rebellion, maybe. No, I decided. Not the way to go. Besides, I needed to pay attention. Mary was still giving out good news.

'We'll play fetch under the new rules at lunchtime tomorrow. Get things started. You'll get to have two goes. If you are lucky both times you will have earned four weeks off your dog life by tomorrow afternoon. Nice thought, eh, Useless? Even if you were really useless at the game last time.'

'Woof. That would be fantastic.' I said, still trying to sound enthusiastic. But I was now very close to screaming at Mary over this 'Useless' label. It was clear to me that she was deliberately trying provoke me into doing or saying something stupid me by constantly calling me Useless. She usen't insert Rover into every sentence when I was called Rover. If she wanted to get a reaction from me, she was going to be disappointed. I wasn't going to play her game, instead I decided on a deflection. Get us talking about something general. Have a harmless conversation about anything. I went for it.

'But may I ask you, My Owner, is there anything interesting going on in the world? Living as a dog for the last five days, I'm losing touch with current affairs. Haven't heard a news bulletin or seen any TV.'

'Well that does it, Useless. Of all the stupid things for a dog to say they are curious about. Who ever heard of a dog thinking about current affairs? That's the thanks I get for trying so hard to be nice to you.'

'Eh... What did I say wrong?'

'You are so missing the point of puppy play, Useless. Even after five days of it. Deliberately so, I suspect. You are just refusing to get into the doggie mindset. What did I say my objective was when we started out on the pet play game?'

'Eh... You said I you wanted me to experience being a dog. Not just to look like a dog.'

'Correct. I clearly remember saying that it was more important that you feel like a dog inside. That you live as a dog in your own mind. True?'

'Woof.'

'And since when does a dog give a shit about the present situation in China, or whatever?'

'Eh..'

'The answer is never, Useless. Never! If you had been thinking like a dog for the last five days, the last thing on your mind would be to wonder what the current thing in current affairs is. True?'

'Woof. Never.' I agreed rapidly. 'Of course you are right. Your average dog isn't wondering about the mid-year economic outlook or whatever. But the real reason, My Owner, that I asked about current affairs,' I quickly interjected, backtracking rapidly, 'is that I just wanted to start talking about something, anything to get my mind off you calling me useless all the time. There, I've said it. That name is really getting to me.'

Mary was getting worked up. I could tell. A little flushed in the face. That determined set of her jaw. This was not going to end well either. It looked like I had dug a worse hole for myself than I already had this morning. Here it comes. The volcano erupts.

'Okay, Useless,' she said, speaking slowly and deliberately now. Using that 'I'll say this only once' tone. 'There is a couple of things that need to be cleared up once and for all. So shut up and listen.'

'I'll get back to your name in a minute. First, I'm going to tell you what a dog should be thinking about - and it's not current affairs.'

'Because of the fact that you are only a dog, you are limited to thinking about stuff you experience in your own doggie world. And that is not much. Let me summarise your world so far. You had two days in Karan's Kennels. That was a doggie experience, and a half. Since then, you have had a couple of days as a dog here. Which is now your whole doggie world; the back yard, the house, the dog pen, me. Right, Useless?'

'Woof.'

'Of course, as a dog, you think about food a lot. A dog in your situation could spend the rest of the afternoon wondering about your evening feed. Like, whether you will get any kibble at all. Or, if you do, how difficult will it be to track down that kibble.'

'Woof.' I had a fair idea about my evening feed already, Given Mary's mood, it wasn't going to happen. Her idea of jerking my chain hard. A practical reminder of who depended on who around here.

'Then there's sex. I suspect male dogs think about sex every time they see a dog of the opposite sex. Feel free to think about sex as much as you like.'

'Woof, I will. I do already,' I chipped in gamely, willing to lighten the mood.

'Shut up. I already told you to shut up.'

'When you are not thinking about food or sex, you should be thinking about your owner, me. Dogs think about their owners a lot. They think about how best to keep on the right side of them so that they will continue to feed them and care for them. Because sensible dogs realise that they depend totally on their owner, not just for food, but for everything.'

I received implied her threat with the silence it deserved. Hopefully, here endeth the lesson on how to be a good dog.

'So that's your world in a nutshell, Useless. And that's the only world you are interested now. Isn't it, Useless? The world of the dog.'

'Woof.' I pretended to agree, fully realising at that point just how far apart we were on the pet play concept. I had wanted a bit of fun sexy pet play. She wanted me to be an actual dog. There is a big difference.

I supposed, on mature reflection as the fellow said, that the minute I asked what was happening in the world, it was clear to Mary that I hadn't let go of the world of people and their doings. I hadn't entered fully into the world of the dog. Nor did I want to, but that was beside the point as far as Mary was concerned.

While taking in Mary's sermon about how to be a good dog, I decided there and then that there was no point in fighting it anymore. I would accept that Mary was entitled to keep me as her pet dog. I would accept that she could insist that this pet play game could not end until I actually started thinking like a dog, or until she had decided that I was actually thinking like a dog.

But, deep, deep down, I said 'Dream on, Mary.' I'd start doing a much better job of pretending to think like a dog. I won't keep telling myself I'm Nathan Hemmings and not Useless the dog. But deep, deep down, I know exactly who I am, not what I am. And I'd still keep my escape plan, the Friday night break-out, as a live option.

'Coming back to your issue with the name I give you, I didn't even think to ask you what you might like to be called. Why? It's obvious, Useless. It's because you are a dog. So get with the program, Useless. Let you name be a constant reminder that dogs don't get to control anything, including what they are called. Yes? '

'Woof.' Yes, I told myself, I am a dog. I'm going to be good at being a dog. And I'm even going to be a good dog.

Mary had got out her phone and was jabbing at it angrily. 'I'm now going to give you another, very real, reminder that there is very little dogs get to control in their doggie life. A regular reminder that whatever might be happening out in the wide world is of no consequence to your daily dog-life existence. Okay?'

'Woof,' I agreed, rapidly and obediently. What's this about I wondered? She still had her phone out and was tapping furiously.

'There is a randomiser function for the ball zapper on here somewhere. I will set it so that in every hour, no, let's say every two hours - that's me being nice to you, Useless -- so that sometime in every two hours your balls will get zapped with the electric shocker. That's to remind you that you have no control of events. That, as a dog, your sole focus is on the here and now. It might also l remind you that I own you, Useless. You are my dog. I am your world. Isn't that so?'

'Woof,' I could feel my scrotum tighten and that wincing twinge in my groin at the thought that I am going to be zapped. That it could happen any second, starting right now, made it worse. The clock was ticking. Somewhere between now and two hours from now I was going to get a severe electric shock in the balls. Mary was still talking and working her phone. I tried to focus on her words but half my mind was waiting for the zap.

'I'll exclude eight hours overnight from the random zapping, so your beauty sleep won't be disturbed. It will turn off at ten tonight. But from six in the morning the randomiser will be active again. What do you say to that, Useless?'

'Woof. Thank you, My Owner, I really appreciate that. It will be nice to be able to sleep through the night. And I will make sure to try to think like a dog, all the time.' Still no zap, but it's only been a few minutes.

'I'll switch off the kitchen light at ten. That way you'll know you are in the no-zap zone, if you are not asleep already that is. And if you behave and are a very good dog over the next few days, I'll push out the zaps to one every three hours, then one every four, and so on. We don't want to permanently fry you balls. Do we, Useless?'

'Woof, woof.'

'Now I think there one final fix necessary to help you to get your head back to where it should be. Because what I think has caused you to slide back from the doggie mindset, was me allowing you to speak English again. That was a mistake, and it was my fault. Having no one to have a conversation with was getting to me. But now I'll have Maria, because called back, already. She accepted the job and starts Monday.

Meanwhile, to help you get back into that dog mindset, you are, from now, restricted to making only woof sounds once more, Okay? You are back to being a full time barking dog from now on, Useless.'

'Woof.' What more could I say. I could have given a few 'wheeii, wheeii' begging sounds to let her know I wasn't at all happy, but it wouldn't make any difference. Mary was determined to keep me deep in dog country. Five minutes gone and still no zap. I found myself holding my breath, because this electric shock to the balls is a sore thing. Millie used it on me once, and it wasn't nice.

'And while lying in your dog house all evening, you can look forward, between the zaps, to Saturday when your doggie world will get a little bit bigger. The neighbours will get to meet you as my dog, and you will get to know them from a dog's perspective. You can only 'woof' at the barbeque, of course, and whenever else you meet someone. I might even have one of them take you for a daily walk down the road. Wouldn't that be nice?

'Woof.' I could have pointed out to Mary that dogs don't look forward, except as far as their next meal. But I didn't.

'Now I'm going back in to do a few more hours on the helpdesk. Enjoy your frankfurter, Useless.'

'Woof.'

And she was gone. I immediately crouched down towards the ground to carefully manoeuvre my mouth around the frankfurter. I didn't want to pick up a load of dirt with it. There were about twenty ants racing over and back across the sausage. I pursed my lips and blew hard and had just blown most of the ants out of the way when the zap hit my balls. No warning. Down I went on one side, gasping for breath, my legs huddled up close to my body, my forearms scrabbling uselessly in the dirt of the pen.

I lay still until the throbbing, wincing pain faded. Breathing deeply and steadily, I repeated over and over in my mind 'I am just a dog' until I felt sufficiently recovered. I mentally parked the zaps under the heading 'Random Stuff That Happens to Dogs.' And I am just that dog. My name is Useless. Live in the now, I said to myself. Get on with it. Grab that frankfurter and eat it. And I did, blowing about another fifty ants out of the way first. I took my time eating it. I knew I couldn't get zapped again for the guts of two hours. Call that my doggie sixth sense. I could relax and enjoy the tangy taste and the solid meaty texture of the frankfurter. It felt so good.

Afterwards, as the sun sank below the trees at the end of the yard, I reviewed where things stood in my doggie world. I didn't really mind having my speaking privileges removed again. Each of my attempts at conversation had only earned me a world of trouble. Since Mary was insisting I remain in this dog world anyway, the maximum extent of my speaking rights would be me telling her how nice my feed of kibble was, or asking if I could hump her leg. Or worse, asking nicely if I might go down the yard to pee or take a dump. I could do without that.

The offer of earning extra time off at the fetch game was more interesting. Maybe it was her way of running down the clock on my, now ninety-three day long, dog life sentence. Unless there was some hidden catch I hadn't figured out yet. But the more likely explanation, I decided, was that it was Mary's face saving way of rapidly ending the pet play game that neither of us wanted any more.

I did some sums to pass the time. Ninety-three days, less five days already done as a dog, leaves eight-eight days. That's twelve and a half weeks. If I managed to successfully complete the fetch challenge each day, and she promised I would get two fetch opportunities daily, that would earn me four weeks reduction on each of the next three days; Thursday, Friday and Saturday, twelve weeks reduction in total. I'd have completed my pet play contract by the beginning of next week. Though, since Saturday was the barbeque, I probably wouldn't get a chance to play fetch that day. Even with that, I could be a free man by Tuesday, say, allowing for the half week of the twelve and a half weeks.

A dilemma presented itself. Should I stick with my escape plan for Friday night, or wait out the game of fetch and see how that goes. After pondering the options I decided against relying on Mary's program of accelerated fetch games, attractive thought it was. With it, I would have to suffer being shown off to all our neighbours at the barbeque on Saturday in my dog get up. Forced to humiliatingly display, do doggie tricks for them, beg for food and be laughed at. I had to think about having the rest of my life to live in West Lake. There would be photos and videos circulating for ever, brought out at Christmas parties and uploaded onto big screens. If I met one of the guys in the mall with his pals, he'd go 'woof, woof' as he passed me and they would all laugh. I was hard and throbbing now thinking about the potential humiliation of it, but, thanks to my owner, I no longer had to worry about getting my penis zapped as the price of an erection.

Thinking of getting zapped reminded me I was probably into the next two hour slot for the random zap to my balls. That realization caused my erection to fade, my scrotum to tighten again, and a shiver run through me. To distract myself, I turned my thoughts to my evening feed. That's what dogs do according to my owner, haw, haw. And I was a dog after all, and I was hungry. There was no sign of Mary coming out with my kibble. I wasn't surprised. That's her reminding me that I depended on her for my food. How predictable. A hungry night awaits. It was dark now. Time to go into the dog house and settle down for the night. I picked up my fluffy toy in my mouth and carried it with me into the doghouse.

I got one more zap in the balls before the bedtime curfew. Took my mind off how hungry I was, briefly. Eventually, I fell asleep, waking at dawn to the sound of rain drumming on the doghouse roof. It can occasionally be was like that, even in late August, in Austin; hot and wet. I hunkered down in the doghouse waiting for the first zap in the balls, reminding myself to be a nice obedient dog for Mary. It does that, the zapping. Focuses the mind on how to make it stop, or lessen. Aversion Therapy all over again, I suppose. If I'm good all morning, I thought, Mary might cut the zaps back to once in three hours in the afternoon.

Eventually I heard Mary calling, and stuck my head out. She was holding an umbrella and wearing only a pair of rubber boots and her T-shirt nightshirt. Holding the umbrella high over her head caused the T-shirt to ride up on that side affording glimpses of her pussy. She didn't care what I saw, obviously. I'm only her dog.

'Hurry up, Useless,' she said, opening the pen door. 'Let's get you inside. C'mon, heel.'

I quickly followed behind my owner, splashing across the patio, up the steps, and in the back door. I saw that she had put my morning feed of kibble in one of the bowls beside the back door. The other was full of water. I wondered, briefly, if I should show my owner some appreciation before heading for the kibble. Show that I'm thinking about her and how much I appreciate that she has put out some food for me. Then I thought, no. I'm a dog and I'm very hungry, and there is food to be had. What would a real dog do? I made a beeline for the bowl of kibble and got stuck in.

Mary had kicked off her boots and continued into the kitchen. I could hear her preparing her own breakfast; cupboard doors opening, cutlery rattling, milk pouring. I followed her in as soon as I'd finished my kibble and had slurped a sizable drink of water from the other bowl. Kibble makes you thirsty. Mary was sitting at the breakfast counter just starting to eat her cereal. Was now the right time for a bit of doggie PDA, I wondered? I was trying to think like a dog, but I hadn't much experience in this area. Let's be logical about this, I thought. Dog has just been fed by owner, therefore dog shows appreciation. Do it.

She was perched on a high stool, wearing only that shorty T-shirt, her long bare limb curled around the leg of the stool, her foot resting on the lower rung, her toes twitching slowly like she was exercising them, waking them up. Sexy. A bit of a come on action. She wants me to do it. We are friends again. As I trundled over beside her, I swayed my hips extravagantly, drag artist-style, making my tail wave over and back, like the 'so happy to see you' puppy that I was. I rubbed my head softly against her leg, just above knee high.

'Woof, woof, woof,' I said gently, advertising my presence, rubbing my head over and back at the side of her knee, pausing to give an occasional soft lick to the back of her knee.

'Aww. Who's being a nice grateful doggie? Is Useless a grateful doggie?

'Woof.' This was going well, I decided, and risked licking a little higher on the back of her thigh.

'Here, Useless, you are just trying to butter me up, I know. Go and chew on your dental stick, said Mary, but in a happy, relaxed tone of voice, as she tossed the stick over into the far corner of the kitchen. 'And if you find any bits of cereal or other food on the floor I don't mind if you nibble it up. That's okay, because that's what dogs do.'

'Woof.' I knew well what she was saying. To prove to her that I'm really getting into the real dog mindset I'm going to have to go lick her leftovers off the floor. This lady is some artist. I crouched down in the corner to crunch on the dental stick. Then the first random zap of the day hit me hard in the balls.

'Aaaggghhh.' I gasped with shock, sending the dental stick flying out of my mouth and across the kitchen floor. I automatically rolled on my side and curled in a ball, lying still, waiting for the numbing, winding pain in my groin to ease, and breathing heavily. I lay very still, hoping my stomach wouldn't heave and make me spew my kibble all over the kitchen floor. Gradually my stomach settled and my breathing eased. I was getting a little better at handling the zaps in the balls now.

I was congratulating myself on this when I was suddenly aware of a warm wetness beneath me. Too late I realised that not only had I had pee'd myself, but I was still peeing, at full blast. I hadn't had a chance to go before Mary brought me in from the pen. Well, actually, I hadn't wanted to go out in the rain and pee in the corner of the pen, then Mary rushed me into the house with her 'heel, Useless' so quickly that the opportunity was lost.

'Oh dear, Useless. Have you had a little accident?' All solicitous now.

'W.. woof.' I slowly rolled back upright, still crouching down on folded knees, and elbows, my head close to the ground. Still recovering, still breathing heavily. I slowly looked back under and between my legs to see the extent of the damage. A large lake of pee extended around and under my hind legs. I was crouching in the middle of a lake of my own pee.

'Poor, Useless. That was most unfortunate. I thought you relieved yourself first thing in the morning when you woke up. Did you do it this morning?

'Woof, woof.'

'Well, be sure to do it in future.'

'Woof.'

'Are you fully recovered now, Useless?' Sounding less solicitous now.

'Woof.'

'Well, I'll tell you what. I know it was an accident, so I won't punish you or add any more time to your dog life if you lick up that mess you made right now. Okay, Useless?'

'W.. woof.' I mean, what choice did I have? She'd probably add a month to my dog life otherwise.

'Good boy. Start licking. I'll just take my cereal into the front room. When you've finished I'll put you out in the rain for an hour. That will help wash the piss off you coat.'

'Woof.'

Mary stood up from the stool and watched as I started licking my own piss off the kitchen floor. When she was satisfied I was going through with it she left the room. I licked steadily on.

Once I got over the initial distaste of the actual thing I was doing, I just got on with it. I found that putting my lips down into the pee allowed me slurp it up more efficiently that actual licking. When I had slurped all I could, I had to lick steadily over the area to leave just a large damp patch. Then I waited for my owner to return and inspect the result. I knew she'd have to mop it with floor cleaner and all that. If I was allowed speak I'd offer to do it. But I'm only a dog.

'Finished, Useless.'

'Woof.'

She was holding the short chain lead. As she clipped it to my collar she told me to pick up the dental stick from under her stool. I got my head in under the stool and managed to get my lips around the stick.

'Heel,' she said briskly as she put her boots back on, picked up the umbrella with her other hand, and opened the back door. Outside, the rain still teemed down, hopping off the patio, filling it with large shallow pools of water.

We briskly trotted down the steps and across the patio to the olive tree at its edge. Mary wrapped the chain around the thin tree trunk and tied it off.

'Stay, Useless,' she said unnecessarily. 'You can roll in the puddles on the patio. It will help you to rinse off your piss all the quicker.' She quickly skipped back over the puddles that I would shortly roll in, hopped up the steps, and back into the house. The door closed with a bang. I was left out in the lashing rain, tied to a tree, expected to roll in the wet and be thankful for getting off lightly. If there was a society for prevention of cruelty to puppy play pets, I'd have been tempted to call them, if I had a way of calling them, that is. I moved forward onto the patio as far as the chain lead would allow, about three feet, and lapped rain water from a puddle to rinse my mouth and get rid of the piss taste. Then I rolled around in it, very dog like, over and back on my back. I sat back under the olive tree and started chewing the dental stick.

Despite the rain it was still a fairly warm day. Even so, I was shivering all over when Mary came out and hour later. The rain had stopped and the day was brightening up. I watched dispassionately as Mary went to the hosepipe that was coiled in the corner of the patio. I could see where this was going. Humiliating? Yes, but in a so what sort of way. I stoically accepted Mary's blasting me all over with a forceful stream of water from the hose. Rolled over, on command, and got my belly, balls, and cock hosed down too. She said nothing about it, before during or after the hosing. Just did it. I just accepted it, playing the dumb animal.

After she had coiled the hose back up she unclipped the leash and told me I could run around the yard to dry off. The sun was out now.

'Play with your fluffy toy,' she suggested, adding that she was going shopping and having lunch out.

'We'll play fetch when I get back.'

'Woof.' And she was gone, leaving me in the backyard to dry off, somehow.

I had a go at shaking myself, dog style and got a few drops of water to scatter off the suit. But, I was still largely dry inside. The suit was neoprene rubber or something and fairly drip dry. The arm and legs mitts were waterproof. Once the sun had warmed me up, I felt fine. I tried to calculate where I might be terms of the random zapper. Still in the safe zone I concluded, but I couldn't be sure. There wasn't necessarily two hours between zaps. If the first came at the end of a two hour slot and the second at the beginning of the next slot, they might be only minutes apart. Conversely, there could be a maximum window of almost four hours between zaps, and, of course, every combination in between was possible. Every option had an equal probability roughly, so I concluded it was best not to think any more about it. Random is random. Stuff happens, Shit happens.

Which reminded me to head for the tray in the middle of the garden to take a dump, not having had an opportunity the previous evening. And I did. Afterwards I scooted my ass over and back on a clump of wet grass. Not dignified, but effective, I decided. I wondered if Mary had a camera monitoring the back yard. Probably had. So what? I'm a dog.

And yes, dear reader, I did get out the fluffy toy and played with it. No shame, I decided. I'm a dog, a play puppy after all. I placed the fluffy shark on the ground and practised running up to it, picking it off the ground in my mouth cleanly, while executing a rapid U-turn. This was to fine-tune my playing fetch skills, ready for the lunchtime doggie Olympics. I planned to win four weeks off my dog life. The comeback kid was in training. And I did get better at it.

The result, you wonder? One win, one washout. My dog life was now reduced by two weeks. On the second game of fetch I got a random zap on the run-in and lay winded for a good ten seconds. 'Them's the breaks, Useless,' was Mary's only offer of consolation. Didn't offer a re-run. 'We'll give it another go tomorrow when you get back from Karen's Kennels.'

'Woof.'

As she walked me at her heel back from playing fetch, me holding the ball in my mouth, Mary imparted a further item of information. Added a further bit of colour to my dull doggie life. 'When Maria starts on Monday, Useless, you realise that she will be the boss of you while she is working here?'

'Gruuf.' I managed while not dropping the ball out of my mouth.

'As such, she needs to be able to discipline you if you are a naughty dog. I've decided not to give her the remote for the zapper. I'll give her the riding crop instead. Okay, Useless?

'Gruuf.'

'A few slaps of the crop across your balls will teach you to respect her.'

Always with the threats.