After my golden retriever of seven years ate a strange tuber from the mountains, its eyes suddenly began to look human. It snatched the engagement ring my scumbag ex had given me and tossed it into the toilet. Before flushing, it actually said, “He doesn't deserve you.” Late at night, it would scratch at the door until I let it in, then bring me a treasure map, its eyes shining brightly. The night a thug broke into my home with a knife, the golden giant dog suddenly transformed into a man and shielded me. His fingers, no longer covered in fur, wiped the blood from my cheek. His voice was low and trembling:
