Author's Note: This cracky fic is the result of spending a weekend reading stories about John turning into a cat. They were lovely and amazing, but I'm dog person and it amuses me that Rodney's not, so yes. I decided to turn him into one and the easiest way to do that was by turning John into a dog. This is different from what I'm used to writing, but it was fun. Written at work on a lazy Sunday, so forgive typos and the like. Don't forget that I love reviews.

.::.

"It was supposed to be an easy mission," Elizabeth said incredulously, arms crossed over her chest. She was glaring but Rodney just glared back because it wasn't like this was his fault. It wasn't. At all. Except maybe just a little. "What the hell happened?"

Rodney didn't know what she expected him to say. It's pretty clear, he thought, looking over at the long haired black and tan dog sprawled out on the gurney. "Well," he said with a half shrug. "You know those wacky ancients."

"Rodney!"

"I don't know, Elizabeth! One minute, he was slouching against a wall and then the next, there was a white beam of light and then boom! The next thing we know, he's a dog!"

"I need more information than that," she said but Rodney had no more information to give. He couldn't even tell her what he'd been doing at the time of the John's transformation. It wasn't like he'd intentionally turned his best friend into a dog because really, if he wanted to turn John into an animal, he would have chosen a cat. Much cleaner. "Well?"

"Oh, sorry, what?"

Elizabeth didn't look very diplomatic. In fact, she looked a little like she wanted to kill him, but luckily, he knew that she hated the paperwork almost as much as John did. He was still relieved when she took a deep breath. "How long before you can fix this?" She asked.

"Listen, I know you people like to think of me as a miracle worker, but it doesn't work like that! I have no clue what the purpose of that stupid machine even was, which means I'll need to check the databases and—"

"Rodney, my patience is wearing very thin right now."

"—And Ronon might have shot it."

For a minute, Rodney thought her head might actually explode. "What did you just say?"

Of course, Ronon (the traitor) wasn't around to finger his blaster menacingly and silently dare Elizabeth to question him. "Uh… well, you see… he's not around Ancient Tech a lot so he wasn't expecting it. And when the light completely engulfed John, it was startling, to say the least and I couldn't shut it off, so it seemed that, to Ronon anyway, the best course of action was to shoot it. And you can't say it was ineffectual, because it turned the machine off… kind of."

"Can it be fixed?"

Rodney wilted a little, his shoulders hunched miserably. "I don't know, to be honest. If I can find enough information in the database, I should be able to fix it, but it's going to take awhile."

"Okay," Elizabeth said and at least she looked a little more calm. "Teyla said something about inscriptions? On the walls of the outpost."

"Yes. We were just about to head back to the gate to radio for a linguist when…" he gestured vaguely to John's unconscious doggy form.

"Very well. I'll send a team of linguists through with your best scientists and we'll see if we can't figure this out. In the meantime—"

"—I am my best scientist!" Rodney protested.

"—In the meantime," Elizabeth said, cocking an eyebrow at him meaningfully, "I want you here going through the database. Anything you can find that you think may help turn John back into a person."

Rodney stared at her for a moment. "You know, for someone who just found out that the military commander of this base has been turned into a dog, you're taking this remarkably well. I mean, once you got past the scary glaring and vein-in-the-temple throbbing stage."

"At least he didn't turn into a bug."

Rodney considered it. "Point."

"Okay then," Elizabeth said. "Keep me posted."

"Wait… wait, wait, wait! What am I supposed to do with him?"

Elizabeth paused at the doorway and looked back at the dog—John, Rodney reminded himself—before she shrugged. "I don't know, but I wouldn't suggest you try to collar him."

And just like that, she was gone.

.::.

Rodney wasn't a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of guy. He liked to have a plan, especially under circumstances as ridiculous as this. He didn't know the first thing about taking care of a dog, but he was pretty sure that Carson raised a bunch of sheep herding dogs or something back in Scotland, so was the first one that Rodney recruited.

"I need to find out what breed he is. I'm pretty sure it's some kind of shepherd, but I'd like to be sure."

"And what exactly am I supposed to look for when I figure it out?"

"Find out if they're supposed to be so lazy," Rodney said dryly. "Anything that could help us to better take care of him. Anything breed specific that will make his care different from any other breed of dog. I don't know, Carson. You're the voodoo practitioner here."

"I'm a people doctor, Rodney. I'm not a bloody veterinarian."

"Close enough. Now go."

Carson stalked off, grumbling under his breath. Rodney thought about shouting after him to make sure he brought a pot of coffee on his return, but then the swish of the black and tan tail caught his attention.

"Decided to join the land of the living, I see," Rodney commented, as if talking to a dog-shaped-John was the most natural thing in the world.

A low, guttural growl escaped John as his eyes fluttered open and then all of a sudden, he was up on all fours, growling and baring his extremely pointy teeth.

"Okay," Rodney said, holding his hands up in surrender. "You're confused. It's okay. It's okay, John," he said, resisting the urge to use that ridiculous baby talk that he often adopted when handling his cat back home. "I don't know if you can understand me, but it's okay."

Dog John gave a loud, thunderous bark that startled the crap out of Rodney. He jumped back, clutching his chest.

"THAT is why I prefer cats!" He hissed. "Jesus!" John snarled this time and it was a truly terrifying sound. "Okay, okay! I didn't mean that! I mean, I do prefer cats over dogs, but, but, but… can you stop with the snarling and growling? Please?"

Rodney didn't think it was possible for dogs to glare, but John managed it, though he did stop growling.

"Better! Thank you!" Rodney straightened up, smoothing his hands over the front of his shirt. "Now I uh… assume you can understand me, so you know I'm not going to hurt you. This is freaky and weird and you're a dog for Christ's sake, but it'll be okay, because I'm going to fix this. I'm going to fix it, John."

That seemed to appease John, because he sat and Rodney had to resist the urge to praise him for it.

He doubted a good boy and a pat on the head would be welcomed at this juncture.

"Are you uh… you know, okay enough to maybe get out of here? It's not like we could do much for you in the infirmary but it seemed like a good idea to keep you away from everyone until we figured out what the hell was going on. But since you're awake, we would probably be better off if we went back to your quarters, right?"

John just stared.

"Well, you're not coming back to my quarters," Rodney said, horrified at the thought. "You're probably going to shed and, and, and cat hair was bad enough, but your hair is really long and I should have expected that, because hair but no. No. We'll go to your quarters, so… uh… down?"

John bared his teeth again.

"Please don't bite me." Rodney said, wincing a little.

John stood up on the gurney, swaying just a little slightly. Rodney figured it was a little weird getting used to being down on all fours, but he made no attempt to help steady him because he really liked all of his fingers attached, thank you very much. It didn't take long for John to orient himself though and then he hopped down off of the infirmary bed.

He looked up at Rodney and though his teeth were bared, it wasn't in the vicious way that led Rodney to believe he wanted to tear his body to pieces. Instead, it was almost a… grin?

"You," Rodney said, as he followed John out of the infirmary. "Are strange. But at least you didn't turn into a bug this time."

John wagged his tail in agreement.