Dog Man

Logan stared at the man—no, the dog-man—his mind struggling to process what was happening.

The stranger tilted his head again, eyes wide with curiosity. His damp hair stuck to his forehead, and his expression was so familiar—Logan had seen that same look on the dog’s face just last night.

“This isn’t real,” Logan muttered, rubbing his temples. “I drank too much. I’m dreaming. That’s gotta be it.”

The man blinked at him, then slowly lifted a hand and reached toward Logan.

“Nope!” Logan scooted back, nearly falling off the bed again. “Stay over there, whoever you are!”

The man flinched, then lowered his hand. He looked confused, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

Logan’s phone was still on the bed, the call to the police active. He could hear the dispatcher’s voice: “Hello? Sir? Are you still there?”

Logan hesitated. His thumb hovered over the screen.

This was insane. He should let the cops handle it. But what would he even tell them? That the stray dog he took in had turned into a man overnight? They’d throw him in a psych ward before they even dealt with the naked stranger in his bed.

He sighed and ended the call.

The man watched him closely, his expression unreadable.

Logan took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Okay. Let’s—let’s try to be rational about this.” He looked the man up and down. “You were the dog, right?”

The man didn’t respond.

Logan groaned. “Of course, you can’t understand me.”

The man frowned as if concentrating, then suddenly—

He growled.

A full, clear, canine growl.

Logan’s soul nearly left his body.

“What the actual—okay. Okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the man was still there, watching him expectantly.

Logan swallowed. “So, you are the dog.”

The man nodded enthusiastically. Then, as if realizing something, he suddenly sat up on his knees, raised both hands in front of him, and mimicked paws. 

Logan stared.

“...I need another beer.”

The man tilted his head again.

Logan stood up, ignoring the fact that there was a large naked stranger in his bed, and marched into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer, popped it open, and took a long sip.

When he turned back, the man had crawled off the bed and was now sitting on the floor, watching him with those same wide, attentive eyes.

Logan groaned. “You even sit like a dog.”

The man perked up at that. He pointed at himself. “...Dog?”

Logan nearly choked on his beer. “Wait. Did you—do you understand that?”

The man blinked, then pointed at himself again. “Dog.”

Logan set his beer down. “Oh my god. You’re learning words.”

The man looked proud of himself.

Logan exhaled. This was too much for one morning. He needed answers, but first… 

“You, up now!” He ordered and the man, stood up almost immediately. Logan walked to his closet, grabbing some of the clothes Jared left at his place for nights when he'd sleep over, and tossed them at the man. “Okay, first things first—clothes. Put those on.”

The man picked them up, turning them over in his hands, looking utterly lost.

Logan sighed. “Right. You don’t know how.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did we get here?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Alright. Let’s start with the basics.”

He stood next to the man, who was still examining the T-shirt like it was some kind of puzzle.

Logan took the shirt from him and held it up. “This is a shirt,” he said, then mimed pulling it over his head. “You wear it like this.”

The man stared at him, then at the shirt, then back at him. He didn’t move.

Logan huffed. “Okay, let’s try step by step.” He took the man’s arm, guiding it through one of the sleeves. The man let out a soft whine—like an actual dog—and Logan froze.

“Are you seriously about to complain?” Logan muttered.

The man pouted, ears—well, imaginary ears—flattening.

Logan ignored it and continued, carefully pulling the hoodie over his head. Once it was on, the man wiggled his arms, looking amazed.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, congrats. You’re wearing a shirt.”

The man beamed like he had just won a prize.

Logan handed him the sweatpants next. “Okay, now these go on your legs.”

The man grabbed them and immediately stuck his arm through one of the pant legs.

Logan groaned. “No. Legs.” He patted his own thighs for emphasis. “Legs.”

The man furrowed his brows, then hesitantly lifted his foot and shoved his head through it.

Logan dropped his head into his hands. “This is worse than babysitting Ian's kid.”

After a few frustrating minutes of trial and error, the man finally had both legs in the right places. The pants were a quite tight on him, but at least he was covered.

Logan leaned back against the wall, exhausted. “Okay. You’re officially…covered.”

The man grinned and wagged his imaginary tail.

Logan eyed him warily. “Alright, so you were a dog. Now you’re… not.” He exhaled. “What are you?”

The man opened his mouth as if to answer—but only let out another growl.

Logan pointed at him. “No. None of that. We’re gonna have to figure out how to get actual words out of you.”

The man furrowed his brows in concentration. He opened his mouth again, this time trying something different.

“Luh… Luh-gahn.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Holy crap. You just said my name.”

The man blinked, then tried again. “Luh…gan.”

Logan stared at him, heart pounding. “Okay. This means you can learn. But wait how do you know my name?”

The man looked delighted. He stood up straighter and pointed at himself. “Dog.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, I got that part already.”

The man shook his head, then pointed again. This time, he frowned, struggling to form another word.

Logan waited, watching him carefully.

Finally, after a long moment, the man managed to say, “Kai.”

Logan tilted his head. “Kai? That's your name?”

The man—Kai—nodded firmly.

Logan let the name roll around in his mind. It suited him somehow.

“Well, alright then,” Logan said, crossing his arms. “Guess I should stop calling you ‘dog’ now.”

Kai beamed.

Logan stared at him, still trying to make sense of the entire situation. His stray dog was now a human named Kai. He could barely speak, had the attention span of a puppy, and was looking at Logan like he had just found his new favorite person.

Logan paced his tiny apartment, staring at Kai, who sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at him like an obedient dog waiting for instructions.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Logan said, rubbing his temples. “I'm unemployed and can't feed both of us, so I need a job. Which means I need to go outside. Which means you need to stay here.”

Kai tilted his head. “Stay?”

“Yes, stay.” Logan pointed at the floor. “Like—like a dog. Just… don’t go anywhere, don’t touch anything, and for the love of God, don’t answer the door.”

Kai blinked, then nodded eagerly. “Stay.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “You said that way too fast.”

Kai wagged an invisible tail.

Logan groaned. “I don’t have time for this. Just—just don’t break anything, okay?” He grabbed his jacket and shoved his phone into his pocket. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Kai raised a hand and waved enthusiastically. 

Logan paused at the door, lips pressing together. “…Yeah. Bye.”

Then he left, hoping to God his apartment would still be in one piece when he returned.

---

The job search was a disaster.

Logan had visited five places already, and all of them had either been uninterested, fully staffed, or required experience he didn’t have. By the time he got to the sixth place—a small café—he was already mentally preparing for another rejection.

“Sorry, we’re not hiring right now,” the manager said, not even looking up from his clipboard.

Logan sighed. “Yeah. Figures.”

Defeated, he grabbed two cheap sandwiches from a convenience store and started walking home. As much as he hated to admit it, he was actually kind of nervous to see what Kai had gotten up to while he was gone.

He braced himself before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Nothing was broken. That was a good sign.

But what was surprising was the sight in front of him.

Kai was sitting on the couch, completely absorbed in the TV. The remote was in his hands, and he was pressing buttons at random, flipping through channels at lightning speed. His eyes were wide, fascinated.

Logan blinked. “Uh… What the hell?”

Kai turned to him with a huge grin. “Logan! Look!” He pointed at the screen excitedly. “People! In box!”

Logan’s brain short-circuited. “Wait. You figured out how to turn on the TV?”

Kai nodded proudly. “Button!” He held up the remote like it was some kind of treasure. “Push, people talk!”

Logan stared at him. “I—okay. Sure. Why not? Of course, you learned how to use a TV before learning how pants work.”

Kai turned back to the screen, where a dramatic soap opera was playing. Two actors were arguing dramatically.

“Why did you cheat on me, Lorenzo?!” the woman on-screen cried.

Kai gasped. “Bad man?”

Logan opened his mouth, then closed it, remebering Jared, his face fell. “...Yeah, sure. Bad man.”

Kai frowned, crossing his arms. “No like bad man.”

Logan let out a tired laugh. “Me neither, buddy.” He tossed his jacket onto a chair and flopped onto the couch next to Kai.

“Here, I got you a sandwich.” He said, handing over the plastic bag to Kai who tore the contents open effortlessly. 

Logan watched as Kai practically inhaled his sandwich, amused by how quickly the food disappeared. Kai chewed with gusto, but then suddenly paused, squinting at Logan’s face.

Kai leaned forward, eyes locked onto Logan’s cheek.

Logan frowned. “What?”

Instead of answering, Kai reached out and brushed his thumb over the corner of Logan’s mouth, trying to wipe away whatever it was. 

“Stay,” Kai murmured, tilting his head as if to get a better angle.

Before Logan could react, Kai leaned in closer, pressing a little harder to remove the stubborn smudge. Their faces were inches apart now, their breath mingling while Logan's heart pounded. 

The door handle rattled open and Jared strode in without warning, his eyes landing directly on them—Kai practically on top of Logan, with their faces almost touching.

Jared's eyebrows furrowed in anger, before seething; “You dirty whore!”