Disclaimer for the entire story: Sadly, I do not own Strange Magic, although I do have the DVD that I play once a week.

Supposed to be working on the sequel for Wild Hearts but this refuses to stay out of my head, so I wrote it and posted it for anyone like me who needs a laugh. One shot...possibly. Anyone have any ideas how these spells actually work, timeframe and all that? Constructive advice is appreciated but please refrain from criticism. Enjoy!

He's a dog.

A literal four-legged, fur-covered, barking dog.

How did this happen?!

Well, he knows how. His neighbor is a witch. No, no, an actual witch. Although, she covered the other definition of witch very well.

He still doesn't know why she did this to him. Okay, so he snapped at her when she asked him how he was doing but she should have been used to that side of him after living next to him for five years. It never bothered her before when he was grumpy.

And this time he had a very good reason for being so surly. It's not every day that he proposes to his girlfriend of six years and not only gets turned down but he also gets a long-winded explanation of how hideous he is and that his money isn't worth being married to him. It didn't help that they were in the park at the time and she was far from quiet. It also didn't help that a very good-looking man walked up to them and asked his "Buttercup" if the ugly cockroach was bothering her. As if he wasn't devastated and humiliated enough but he had to find out that their entire relationship had an extra partner in it that he didn't know about.

At least he got the extreme pleasure of notifying her that their relationship was over and that he won't be paying her bills anymore. Even the blonde supermodel looked about ready to cry at that revelation.

He doesn't know what is worse, that they actually believed that he would still support her and her lover after finding out the truth or that they actually believed that he was so desperate that he would still support her and her lover after finding out the truth.

Then to top off a shitty day, he goes home to the house he had bought for them to settle down in and somehow pisses off the neighborhood witch. A short conversation that ended with her telling him that if he wanted to act like a dog then he might as well be one and then poof, a short bit of pain later and he's looking up at the usually shorter woman.

Bog growls at the remembrance but quickly shuts up as he notices looks being directed toward his hiding place. If being a dog isn't bad enough, he's also been on the run for three days. Like he was sticking around after he turned his head and saw his new appearance in the reflective gazing ball in his front yard.

He hightailed it out of there as fast as his long legs could take him and has no shame in admitting that he ran the whole way to his childhood home with his tail tucked underneath him. Too bad that he forgot that his mother is away for two weeks. A fact that he didn't remember until he reached the secluded cabin fifty-two miles away from his residence. The housesitter's scream of panic ripping through the night air only told him that he couldn't stay there either.

He went into his hometown because he was hungry and as much as he didn't want to root in the dumpsters, he drew the line at eating his meat raw. Unfortunately, he forgot about the dogcatcher. Which led him to his present hiding place at the heavily forested park in the middle of the small city.

As far as he can see it, he only has one option but returning home to somehow convince Plum to turn him back doesn't sound all that appealing. There is also the problem of making it back there in the first place. It was a miracle that he managed to make it here without something happening to him and he's not sure that he can make it back.

Maybe if he had a way to contact Plum. She might be willing to come to him and turn him back. Surely, she's racked by guilt by now.

Who was he kidding?

The low groan rumbles through his chest and he lays his long snout on his folded paws. His life sucked. He's a literal dog, hungry and filthy, and has been that way going on four days. He got the lovely revelation that the woman that he thought he was in love with was only in love with his money and her reservations about a physical relationship with him had nothing to do with her religious beliefs as she claimed. As pathetic as it sounds for a man of thirty-eight, he wants his mommy and she isn't even around because he gave her a cruise vacation for her birthday. Worst of all, he has a dreadful urge to itch that he can only pray it is caused by the mud and debris stuck in his blue-grey wiry coat and not by fleas.

His only consolation is the fact that his ex is probably very regretful by now since her rent was due yesterday and so was her car payment, neither of which she is capable of paying for. Even if he feels like a fool as he looks back over their relationship, she gave him the perfect opportunity for revenge with all her manipulations because she has no way to support herself now that he and his money is gone. Looks like she's the fool in the end.

"Come on, Buttercup!"

Bog's ears perk at the familiar voice and he pokes his head out of the bush he's hiding in. His sharp blue eyes scan the park for a familiar face in the waning light.

There's no way his ex could be here! That would be too cruel of the universe!

"Go away, Roland!"

That is not his former love. This woman sounds dangerous to the health of the blonde ponce and Bog can't help the doggy smile gracing his muzzle at the thought. It would make him feel so much better to watch one of the persons responsible for his bad circumstances writhing on the ground in pain.

He finally spots the pair along one of the park's paths and he can't resist the pull to leave his hiding place. Even though her voice had sounded so strong and violent, he can clearly see how uncomfortable she looks being around the other man. Her annoyance is only a mask to cover up her uncertainty, a familiar mask that he sometimes wore himself.

It doesn't take him long for his four legs to cover the distance as he lopes as silently as possible. They don't notice him. The woman is too busy trying to keep the distance between her and Roland without being forced to turn her back on him, while also trying to keep him from being able to touch her.

Bog weighs his options. As much as he'd love to bite Roland, there is a law on dogs who bite, so that isn't an option. Barking at him doesn't seem like a good idea because he might very well be seen as a danger and as with biting, that's not an option either. Maybe he could play being a good pet and hope the woman doesn't scream like the others that have caught sight of him.

He swallows the urge to growl as Roland prattles on about giving him another chance and that it was a big misunderstanding. Whatever happened, Bog is sure was premeditated on the man's part...

"You cheated on me on our wedding day, remember? As if that could be a misunderstanding," the woman scoffs.

Oh, ouch!

That biting thing is looking more like an option by the minute.

Bog quickly strides closer and sharp white fangs glint from the lighted lampposts as Roland tries taking the woman in his arms to forcefully kiss her. Luckily for Roland, the woman escapes his grasp, pushes him, and jumps backward to put distance between them.

She doesn't notice that she nearly collides into the large dog approaching as she keeps her attention fully on her attacker. She doesn't notice as Bog sits down next to her. She does notice when Roland turns his attention back to her and screams, pointing to something at her elbow.

Bog looks calmly up to the startled amber eyes peering down at him before he turns his own attention back to the squealing man before them. He shuffles a little to ensure that his seated form is between the two. It is the woman's fight and he doesn't want to unnecessarily interfere but he will make sure that Roland can't grab her again.

"What is that thing," Roland questions?

"This is an animal called a dog, Roland," the woman drawls.

"I know that, Marianne," Roland snaps back.

Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. What else was the idiot expecting? At least he now knows the woman's name. Bog takes the opportunity to yawn widely, showcasing his sharp teeth, and snorts as Roland takes a few steps back.

The hesitant fingers on the top of his head make him tilt his head more into her touch and he can't help the doggy grin as she starts petting him without hesitation. He's glad that Marianne doesn't seem frightened of him. He knows what he looks like, after all. If his eyes were red and his fur more black then one could mistake him for the Black Shuck of his father's homeland.

An unfortunate side-effect of her confidence is Roland's attempt at coming closer, an aborted attempt as Bog makes his feelings clear by bearing his teeth and growling at him.

"For the last time, we are through, Roland," Marianne states firmly. "I'll forgive you for what you did to me because I will not let any part of you control any part of me but I also will not take you back. Leave me alone!"

Bog accents her speech by standing up on all four legs and taking a growling step toward Roland. No doubt that he'd be joining Marianne in her laughter if he was still human but instead, Bog wags his tail happily as Roland squeals again before running in the opposite direction.

The victory is cut short and Bog can't help the yelp that escapes him as a metal wire is looped over his head and tightened around his neck. How did he forget the dogcatcher? The burly woman's grip on the metal pole is strong but there is no way that he is going to the shelter.

There's no way he'd last. Forget about the humiliation of going to doggy jail, it'll be impossible for him to be turned back to normal. He'd be stuck there until they euthanized him because no one would adopt a dog like him.

"What are you doing," Marianne asks?

"What does it look like? I'm taking this dog to the animal shelter," the dogcatcher answers.

"You can't do that," Marianne protests! "He's...uh...he's my dog!"

Bog momentarily stops his backward struggle and blinks up at her. Was she really going to defend him? Unfortunately, it doesn't look like the dogcatcher believes her and Bog pulls harder.

"Your dog? Okay, so where is the dog's license or it's collar and leash," the dogcatcher questions?

"Uh...at home," Marianne answers? "Yes, they're at home."

"It's illegal to walk a dog in public areas without a collar and leash," the dogcatcher remarks.

"I wasn't walking him," Marianne defends. "He's supposed to be at home...getting a bath. That's why he isn't wearing his collar."

"The dog is giving itself a bath," the dogcatcher drawls.

"No, of course not. My sister is supposed to be giving him a bath but he must have escaped and come after me," Marianne continues.

"Alright. What's the name," the dogcatcher asks?

"My sister's name," Marianne questions?

"The dog's name," the dogcatcher answers.

"Oh, right. Well, he's...uh...he's new and we haven't really decided on a permanent name yet," Marianne mutters.

"Fine. Come into the shelter tomorrow with your ownership papers and pick the dog up," the dogcatcher comments, tugging on the pole harder.

"You can't take him," Marianne protests! "He's also my emotional support animal and I need him. He keeps me from killing my ex-fiance."

This woman is a gem! If only his present vocal cords could handle laughter. Even the dogcatcher looks ready to laugh. Scratch that, that was definitely a chuckle he heard.

"Okay, look, Girly, we both know that you're lying through your teeth. I've been after this dog for three days," the dogcatcher admits.

"Three days? The poor dog," Marianne murmurs. "But he isn't a dangerous animal. Surely, you saw how he kept that jerk from bothering me any further and he wasn't aggressive at all. What's the harm in letting me take him?"

"You really want him," the dogcatcher questions in surprise?

"Yes," Marianne states firmly!

Bog takes the opportunity to grab the metal pole in his jaws and pulls firmly, wrenching it out of the dogcatcher's hand. He doesn't bother running away but instead moves to sit next to Marianne to make his sentiments known. He knows that the dogcatcher knows that he can outrun her. After all, he's been doing it for three days.

"This isn't going to be easy to explain to my boss," the dogcatcher mutters.

"Explain how much money you're saving. Just think of the cost even keeping him overnight will be. A big dog like that would be taxing on the shelter," Marianne remarks. "I'll even be nice and donate money."

"I can't believe that I'm going to do this," the dogcatcher groans.

Bog wags his tail happily as the dogcatcher pulls out a leash from her belt and he stands obediently still as she loops it around his neck before taking off the wire. He knew he always liked Steph. She did have a soft spot beneath her gruff exterior.

"Better make sure you get papers and license for him tomorrow," Steph warns, handing the leash to Marianne. "It'll also be smart to take him to the vet for a check-up and schedule him to be neutered."

Scratch that! Steph is a terrible person! Tucking his tale beneath him, Bog cowers behind Marianne and glares at the other woman.

"The only one I'm going to neuter is Roland," Marianne comments. "The dog is keeping his balls."

I love this woman! She's such a saint!

Marianne laughs as Bog stands on his hind legs and covers her face with licks. He didn't care about dignity or that this is the equivalent of kissing. This woman deserves praise and it's the best that he can come up with in this form.

He obediently removes his front paws from her shoulders and returns to sitting on the ground at her pushing but it doesn't stop his tail from wagging fiercely. It won't be so bad being Marianne's pet dog. It can't be any worse than what he's dealt with for four days.

"Alright, boy. This is your last chance to speak your mind," Marianne chuckles. "Come with me and you'll get free food, a warm house to sleep in, and certain obligations. Those obligations are to be good and keep Roland away from me. Do we have a deal?"

Bog lifts his front right paw and holds it out to her. He'll keep the deal for however long he's stuck in this form.

"I think I'll call you King," Marianne comments, shaking his paw.

Tea Blend...for now.

P.S. Bog is a Scottish Deerhound.