The Prime Minister as a Dog

The Prime Minister woke up one day and found he was a dog.

There was something wrong with his eyes — it was all rather grey and blurry — but his nose… his nose was being overwhelmed by the smells. He could smell himself and know he was somewhat male, quite large, a bit tubby, lots of fur everywhere and… and a tail!

What fun! He had a tail!

Hang on a minute, he wondered. Do I have a tail?

He wagged it. Thumped it up and down, wagged again. That made him feel happy, just wagging by itself made him feel much happier.

He could smell the gods also living in the big den: they smelled strongly of ape-dog and strongly of artificial smells a bit like flowers and he could also smell food nearby.

He sat up.

He had four legs, no hands and his legs were covered in rather attractive yellow fur. Labrador fur. I’m a golden labrador.

Wow! he thought, and found he had said exactly that, loudly. “Wow! Bwow! Ruff ruff…WOW!”

He jumped out of bed and shook himself all over, nose to tail, shedding fur everywhere. He went to his water dish and lapped some water. It tasted wonderful. He went to his food dish.

His food dish was EMPTYYYYY!