Early dog work made Jay antsy. He was nervous about Ken walking to school on his own (even though he'd asked their neighbor, Loren, to keep an eye out for trouble) and about the arrangement they had with the church (he'd had to beg—on his knees—to try this for a week to see if it worked). With all that piled together, Jay was almost shaking the way the small rat dogs did and had to concentrate not to pee on the floor. Sometimes being in a dog body was a curse. Every small emotion was made ten times more obvious in his body language.

"Listen up!" barked the handler at the small crowd of mutts. "We've got a few newbies here today so I'm going to go over the rules. First reminder: you do not have a job yet. If you don't get picked, you'll get assigned one from whatever's left. Second reminder: you don't get to show preference to the clients. You're dogs. Nothing more.

"Now we are about to enter the client lounge. You will line up along the wall. Those clients that want to pick their pet will do so. The job will be explained to you and you will have a chance to decline. You will then be checked out as normal. Ready? Let's go."

Jay scrambled to follow the man and stay in line. He was one of the smallest dogs there. In front of him were three large dogs often picked by clients looking to settle a score or protect an asset. One of them even had the scars that made him look like a frequent dog fighter. There was one other mid-sized dog in the group; she was a well-groomed tan short-hair that would probably be chosen as a nanny. He wasn't sure what kind of work anyone would have for a small black mutt-dog like him, but he hoped someone needed some sort of dog ornament or child playmate. Jay was more than willing to wag his tail and look pretty for a few hours. Or, well, as pretty as he could.

The first few clients went straight for the largest dogs. Tan and black, tails held high, they proudly walked out at their clients' heels. The blond was next, trotting after a mother with two kids already pulling on her ears and tripping over her paws. Two more fawned over thin, tall hunting dogs. Jay felt his confidence sag. If he did all this and ended up at the hospital again, then he'd actually lose money with this change. Worse than that, he’d lose time with his baby brother for nothing.

Jay yelped when he was grabbed from behind and lifted into the air. His legs dangled as whatever idiot shifted him to a one-handed hold that hurt. Jay pawed the air, whining, until he was finally plopped rather harshly on the counter. "I'll take him," grunted the man.

Judging from the glare the clerk was giving him, the man hadn't exactly followed procedure. Jay couldn't help but cough, sagging a bit on the wood separating the client from the worker. "Sir, such handling of the dogs is dangerous," the woman huffed. She reached forward and felt around Jay's chest and armpits, looking for sore spots. Nothing hurt too much. Jay's chest still felt a bit tight, but he was able to sit up and breathe without too much pain. "That much weight is not meant to rest on their chest. Please follow proper handling procedures in the future. Otherwise our dogs could get hurt."

Jay shook himself. He didn't know who this man was, but he must be someone important to get such a light warning. Most of the thugs who came in handling dogs like that left bleeding.

"You going to check him out or not?"

"Of course, sir. But please support his full body when carrying him, not just his chest," the clerk commented primly. "Or let him walk on his own. You did not specify a contract. What service are you looking for, and how long?"

"Lapdog. Until lunch."

Jay tried to focus on the words, but it was hard when he normally didn't get to hear all the negotiations. He normally got the work order after all the details had been decided and the contract worked out. He couldn’t figure out if he was supposed to accept or not, or if he was even being asked. There was just too much change. When he heard the price, however, his little doggy heart started beating double.

A small fortune to Jay. The man was paying extra for Jay's silence. With a solid silver directly to Jay for agreeing to "not listen" to any conversations. Jay had wagged his tail and eagerly yipped to show his acceptance of the terms. He could be very good at not listening. A silver piece would pay their rent for a full six weeks. He'd be able to buy more than just scraps for food, maybe even make a payment to the school so he and Ken could have a day off. He was a little worried about what he'd be doing while not listening, but it couldn't be that bad. Right?

The man was older, with a full beard that was starting to show the gray of age and hard blue-gray eyes. He had the typical tanned skin that everyone in the country seemed to share, and when he turned to look over the contract Jay thought for a moment that he looked an awful lot like Captain Barkley from the parade.

That was ridiculous, though. Captain Barkley would never travel to this side of town and the Lord’s manor had their own kennels. Why rent a lapdog when they had actual dogs - both animals and transformed mages - already working for him?

Jay noticed a few scars on his arms when he rolled up a sleeve which looked like marks from a shield rubbing against his skin, adding to the illusion. Given his age and the signs of his career, Jay knew he was skilled. He had to be in order to still be alive. Maybe the captain had a twin or a brother?

Once the clerk finished the checkout procedure she came around to the client side of the desk with a stern look at the guard. "Since you're new I'm going to show you a few things," she said. "We typically use a collar and leash to help our dogs stay with clients. These are only so you don't get separated. The leash can be removed. We ask that the collar not be removed since it identifies and differentiates our workers from all the stray animals on the streets. Do not pull on the leash or collar. Doing so could cause damage to the dog's throat, making it difficult or even impossible for them to breathe. Effects might not be seen for 1-2 days, and can cause life-long damage. Don't do it, sir." Though she looked like she was glaring, her words were soft and there wasn’t even a hint of scolding in her tone.

Was she afraid of him? There were enough mages at dog services to keep the staff safe.

"Right, right," the man said, waving her away as he fixed the collar around Jay's throat himself. "I've dealt with the kennel dogs; I know how to walk him."

Jay expected the clerk to come back with a comment that the man obviously didn't know how to carry a dog, but she stayed silent on the matter. "Always support the full body when carrying, preferably keeping his weight supported on a solid surface like your arm or chest. We do not allow body violations. If you're looking for that sort of entertainment, I must warn that it is considered illegal by - well, I guess you, captain."

Captain? The clerk must be having the same delusions Jay was. Maybe that’s why her lecture was lacking. He considered slapping her face to wake her up from the dream but that seemed rude.

The gray-haired man snorted. "I'm well aware of the city's laws. Are we done?"

"Yes sir," the clerk said meekly.

With the collar and leash attached, Jay was moved to the floor. He had to trot to keep up with the man’s pace, and nearly tripped over his own feet twice when the soldier made a sudden turn.

If his mouth wasn’t so small he would have considered biting that annoying calf that wouldn’t slow down.

There was a small tug on the leash when Jay stopped - completely and fully stopped - at the sight of the Lord’s manor. He passed through the gates in a daze, hardly even hearing the words of the other people calling out to the man who held his leash. It was completely insane. Jay looked up - and up, and up - just to make sure. It was absolutely impossible and yet his eyes confirmed what his ears were telling him.

The man holding his leash really was Captain Barkley.

He was doomed.