Chasing Her Tail by Katie Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

she could run forever.
    When she’d reached her own backyard, she’d stared at the house, nonplussed. How was she supposed to get inside? If she changed—if she could change—back to human form, she’d be naked. It would be just her luck if one of the neighbors spotted her as she retrieved her spare key from the top of the backdoor ledge, stark naked. She’d retreated to the shelter of the lilac bushes to puzzle out what to do. She wasn’t having much luck with that.
    Too bad she hadn’t installed a doggy door. Since Bridget had never had a dog, though, that would have been slightly insane. With a heavy sigh, she lay down with her chin on her paws.
    Maybe she should just go for it. It was mid-morning on a weekday, so all the neighbors should be at work or school or yoga-lates class or whatever they did during the day. She’d have to change under the cover of bushes—since who knew how crazy that would look?—dash to the back porch, grope for the key, open the screen door, jam the key in the lock… She sighed again. She’d be seen for sure.
    Her gaze move across the yard and stopped on the garden shed in the far corner.
    Bridget didn’t keep much in it—her lawnmower, an old bike with two flat tires, a few rakes, shovels, buckets, a tarp—
    Her head shot up. A tarp would double as a toga in a pinch, which she was pretty sure she was in right now.
    Belly low to the grass, she slunk diagonally across the lawn. An unlatched combination lock held the door closed. Bridget never actually locked the shed. If someone bothered to steal her ancient lawnmower, she’d send up a prayer of thanks for the excuse to buy a new one that could actually cut the grass with one pass and wasn’t held together with wire, duct tape and baling twine.
    Even hanging open, the lock was tricky. She tried to nudge it off with her muzzle but the U-shaped metal bar just knocked against the door. With a low growl of frustration and a growing fear that a neighbor would glance out and spot a large, mottled dog breaking into her garden shed, she grabbed the body of the lock in her mouth, turned her head and twisted it until it slid free.
    Dropping the lock, she nosed the latch open and scrabbled at the door until it swung out just enough for her to wedge her muzzle in. With a twist of her head, she opened the door wide enough to slip into the dim shed. The tarp was there, folded and placed neatly on a shelf, and a surge of relief tore through her, so strong it made her legs go wobbly.
    Now the hard part. Bridget closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to repeat what she’d done at the hospital when she’d changed the paw back into her hand. Her bones 31
    Katie Allen
    began to slide and shift, yanking her muscles with the movement. She’d expected pain but it was surprisingly smooth, only a slightly panicky pull on her muscles, similar to what she felt when she pushed a stretch just an inch too far for comfort.
    As the change finished, the final joints clicking as they fell into their proper human places, she gasped, a sound of half relief, half exhilaration. If this had really just occurred, if she hadn’t had the longest, most realistic dream ever, then an amazing thing had just happened—and it had happened to her. Bridget. An ordinary, brown mouse of a schoolteacher whose idea of a wild night was watching a PBS special on African lions.
    She, Bridget Grace, had just turned into a dog. In fact, she’d turned into a dog, escaped from an evil doctor, turned back into a human and was now standing naked in her garden shed. At the whole “naked” reminder, she grabbed for the tarp and wrapped it around herself toga style. Only then did she peer out the half-opened door to see if any of the neighbors were watching.
    The coast was clear, as far as Bridget could see. Pulling the rough fabric of the tarp more tightly around her body, she glanced down to see if she was completely covered and then dashed for her back porch. Stretching up on her