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by grapehyacinth
The night before Becca Michaels' wedding was a whirlwind of eating, dancing, and drinking. The celebration served to wipe away the memories of a tough year – a year of contracting Canine Transformation Disorder, or CTD, and dealing with its traumatic symptoms.
But now Becca was officially post-CTD. The spontaneous canine metamorphoses had come to an end, and she had perfected the art of transforming only when she chose.
...Which Matt, her fiancé, found particularly alluring.
Now she sat in her hairdresser's chair, suffering the remainder of the past evening's antics. As the stylist ran a curling iron through her brown locks, Becca uttered, “Sorry I'm so quiet, Erica. I just feel so disgusting.”
“Long night, huh?”
“Yes. But a lot of fun. Unfortunately, I'm experiencing the first hangover I've ever had in my life. I've never been much of a drinker.”
Erica chuckled, sweeping the hair from Becca's neck into a bun. “Oh, I remember the night before Tom and I–” she paused. “Uh...”
“What's wrong?” Becca asked, looking in the mirror before her.
The hairdresser was staring at her client's neck. “Are you...” She swept her finger over Becca's skin. “I thought you were past...”
“Past what?”
Erica gulped. “Are you changing?”
“Changing? What are you talking about?” Becca rolled up her sleeve. Her arm did seem a bit hairier...
“You were drinking...they say alcohol can mess everything up with CTD...” Erica whispered in horror.
Becca rolled her eyes. “Even if I am, it's fine. I'm post-CTD, and I'm completely able to control changes. Now, are you done?”
Worriedly, Erica snaked a ribbon through her hair and tamed some flyaway strands. “All done. Although,” she poked at the dark bangs, “you have a gray or two here. Let me tuck them away. There. Now you better hurry up and fix yourself, or Matt will be marrying a dog.”
“He'd probably like that,” Becca laughed. She paid the hairdresser and left.

Sitting down in her car, Becca examined her arm once again. That was odd – fur did seem to be growing in. She'd have to reverse the transformation, or tonight she wouldn't be wearing the exquisite dress she'd blown most of her savings on. For that matter, she wouldn't be doing much of anything other than playing with dog toys.
She relaxed and focused inwardly, reeling back the changes. She pictured the fur disappearing, her skin clean and smooth...
But the ring of her phone stopped her.
“Hey Bec! It's Matt. Two hours to go! Is your hair all beautiful?”
“All set,” Becca said, studying her reflection in the rearview mirror. Two streaks of white ran from her hairline into the bun. “Oh, that's...I think...”
“What's wrong?”
She couldn't worry her intended on their wedding day. All would be fine. “Um, nothing. I just need to get home and start getting ready.”
“Don't be late!”
“Ha. Funny.”

Becca raced home. Legs crossed, she sat on her bed and focused on returning to normal. The fur was much thicker now, and again, she tried to force it away.
Sighing in relief, she watched it retreat slightly into her skin, but when she took her focus from the area, the fur slowly grew back.
“It's okay. I'm fine,” she uttered to the empty room. Jumping from the bed, she tried to clear her mind of the small fear creeping over her. “I'm going to shower.” She lowered her voice, “And get rid of these...grays...which must have come in only minutes ago...”
After first running root-touch up through the light strands, her eyes fell to her body. She was indeed growing her wispy sheepdog fur, and the nails she'd had so expertly manicured now looked thin and slightly misshapen.
“No,” she stated aloud. “No, it's okay. I'm good. I can't freak out.”
The moment the hair color took hold, she entered the shower and shaved every inch of her body. Her feet itched terribly, and she nearly slipped checking for the paw pads she knew would soon be coming in. At least for now her feet remained pink and callused as usual.
“Go away, go away, itch,” she murmured, pushing the sensation from her feet. She exited the shower, tossed on her bathrobe, and then sat down at her vanity, willing back the rest of the changes.
What seemed like only moments later, Carla, her mother, burst in.
“Becca, why are you just sitting there? It's almost time!”
“Almost time?” Becca looked up. She still wore her bathrobe, and was idly sweeping her hands up her furry arm. She had to tell someone.
“Mom, I'm changing.” The words fell from her mouth like she'd just been drinking expired milk.
“Changing?” Carla's jaw fell open. “Like, CTD changing?”
Becca nodded.
“You can't! Not now! Just make it go away.”
“I'm trying...it sort of does, but then it starts again. It's really hard to push it back!”
“It's hard to push it back? Well maybe that's because of the hangover! You can't go to your wedding as a dog! What will people think? Matt's family has no idea you have it! They'll disown you the minute they find out! Why are you changing?”
Before Becca could reply, her mother's eyes opened wide. “Last night. You drank!”
Her mother grabbed her hand, flipping it over to see the shadow of paw pads forming. She threw it down in anger.
“You drank! Why did you drink?”
“I'm post-CTD! I figured I'd be okay!”
“Why would you chance that? Not a lot is known about CTD yet!” She brought her voice down slightly. “You really can't control it?”
“I'm trying!”
Carla threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, God! We can't cancel this wedding! You know how much money we put into it?”
“We're not canceling it! I'll control it!”
“Go shave!”
“I just did!”
“Do it again!”
Becca ran back into the bathroom and picked up her razor, but could only stare into the mirror, transfixed. There were more whitish-grays showing up in her hair. Why did this have to happen to her? “I have to make this go away...”
Seconds later, Carla stumbled in, brandishing a glass bottle. “I still have some of the CTSlower medicine from when you were sick! Hopefully it'll slow your changes down!”
Becca tossed down her razor. “Give me!” She guzzled down some of the fowl-tasting liquid, wiped her mouth, and returned the bottle back to her mother. “Please take this with you!”
“You're going gray!” her mother cried in horror.
“No, it's the fur...I need more root touch-up!”
“Shave! Don't worry about grays right now!”
Becca ran the razor down her arms and then handed it to Carla. “Take my razor, too!” She fiddled around in the drawer until she found the root touch-up, then haphazardly coated the most obvious grays. She tossed it to her mother. “And take this in case–”
Carla nearly dropped it. “Yes, yes... hurry and get your dress on...”
Was there some fur sprouting again? “Go away! Please, go away.” Becca whispered frantically. She caught her mother's sad stare.
“Oh, Mom, everything's ruined...”

The limousine ride to the hall was fraught with anxiety. Becca and her mother exchanged constant glances, yet nothing was mentioned to Jack, Becca's father. “Let's not worry him,” Carla had said, and Becca had agreed. Why ruin it for him as well?
Through the trip, Becca gallantly fought every twinge that signaled a change, but it was making her so tired, and her head still ached...
When she exited the limo, her shoe clunked to the pavement. Her mother ran to grab it, gazing up at her stockinged foot. “Oh, Becca,” she nearly sobbed, “the paw pads are definitely there.” She shoved the shoe back on, but it seemed cavernous in comparison with Becca's shrinking foot. “Make the foot changes go away! You have to wear shoes to cover everything up! Concentrate!”
Becca remained where she stood, focusing on her lower extremities. Her feet stretched out, filling in the shoes somewhat, but then the small of her back began to throb.
“Oh, Mom, I feel the tail coming on...”
“Focus!” her mother hissed.
“Hurry up, girls! Becca can't be late to her own wedding!” Jack called in a singsong voice.
“That's just what Matt said,” Becca mumbled. She gulped and made her way inside, her mother worriedly carrying the trailing train of her daughter's dress.

Carefully, Becca made her way down the aisle. Matt beamed at her from up front, and friends and family murmured excitedly as she swept past.
I have to get up there... I have to stay human...
Putting every bit of her strength into keeping the fur from her bare arms, she stumbled down the flowered carpet. Her mother and father supported her on both sides as she fought to keep her shoes on her feet. Yet inches before she reached the front, her right foot twisted.
The crowd gasped, and Becca deftly scooped her shoe back on, getting a glimpse of her darkening, elongating toenails...
Keep focusing! she told herself. I can do this!
She threw her dress down hastily, but not before her mother saw how, despite Becca's best efforts, her feet had changed even more.
“Be strong!” she whispered into her daughter's ear.
“I'm trying!”
I will get up there. We will marry. I will not let this ruin my wedding.
Becca continued to the front. She toppled up the steps and, with great relief, fell into her intended's welcoming arms.
Matt's uncle Berl, who was ordained, was to marry them. He studied Becca momentarily, and then began, “We are gathered here today...”
“Are you okay?” Matt murmured.
“Hardly.” Becca nearly broke down. She had to tell her husband-to-be. She needed his support. “I'm changing, Matt.”
He looked confused. “Well, just stop it, then.”
“I can't. I drank last night. That messes CTD people up, and apparently post-CTD people too.”
Berl's voice droned on in the background. “...To witness the union of Matt Parks and Becca Michaels, who...”
“You can't change yourself back?”
“I'm trying, but it's really tough. I even drank some CTSlower, but I don't know if it helped...”
“If my family finds out... My God, my grandmother will die. She thinks CTD is an STD.”
“...Do you, Matt, take Becca to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness...”
“Certain sicknesses are best of all,” Matt whispered, raising his eyebrow. “Personally, I love when you're a dog, and, you know what? I don't care where or when you do it.”
Becca made a weak smile. “No, Matt. I can't do it here.”
“...Till death do you part?”
Matt grinned, turning back to answer his uncle. “I do.”
“Do you, Becca–”
The ceremony was going too slowly. She had to get through this night before she lost all her strength to fight the metamorphosis.
She clipped the end of Berl's words with a rapid, “I do.”
After a surprised pause, he concluded with a joyful, “Then you may kiss the bride!”
Their kiss lasted all of seconds before Becca sprinted down the aisle. Accompanied by shouts of congratulations, Becca lost both shoes, but she didn't go back to retrieve them.
Because she had a tail.

She sat in the bridal room, perched on a chair, her dress hiked up.
“Go away! Go away!” She swatted angrily at her tail.
Still wagging, it shrank to half its length until someone banged on the door.
“Don't come in!” she yelped, dropping down her dress.
“Becca, you need to come out! They're waiting, and I have your shoes!”
She unlocked the door, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Matt! Everything's ruined! I'm trying so hard not to let it.”
He pushed past and locked the door behind him. Pulling a tissue from his tuxedo pocket, he blotted Becca's face. “Nothing's ruined. It's fine.”
“I'm messing up my makeup,” she wailed. “I'm messing up everything.”
“You know, it's funny, if it wasn't for my stupid family, I wouldn't care if you were a full dog tonight. I only wish I could be one, too.”
“Maybe when you can control it, it's fun. But when you can't... You have no idea what it's like, and you'll never know! It's not fair that men are immune to CTD!”
“And I'm one of those men who wishes they could get it! To be able to change into something else would be amazing!”
And indeed, in the past, Matt had tried everything he could to contract the disease – to no avail.
“Matt, just stop it, please?”
“Maybe you just announce it, and people will deal. You know, go up and say, 'Hey everyone! I'm gonna be a dog tonight thanks to my CTD!'”
“Are you crazy? No! This is supposed to be one of the best nights of my life!” She rose resolutely.
More rapping on the door ensued. “Guys! Come on! We're all waiting!”
Matt opened the door to discover Sherry, Becca's best friend and maid of honor. She raced in, her royal blue bridesmaid dress flapping wildly. “What's taking you so long–” Her eyes widened at the sight of her friend. “What's wrong? Why are you crying?”
Becca held up her hand, displaying her new, prominent paw pads.
“Becca, you're post-CTD! Just make it go away – oh, God! You drank last night!”
“You did, too! Why aren't you changing?”
“I had about a mouthful of some crappy wine cooler!”
Shocked, Matt gazed at Sherry. “You had CTD?”
Sherry smiled. “Sure did. Becca and I used to play frisbee in the park on our lunch break.”
“I had no idea!”
Sherry seized Becca's paw-like hand. “You get yourself together and you come out and get married! Then we can run with all the CTD-ers!”
“Very good idea.” Matt gave Becca a quick kiss. “You can do this. Good luck.”

“Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Matt Parks!”
Matt and Becca paraded in, hand-in-hand. The music roared, and the guests cheered. He swept her up into a dance, and she did her best to keep on her shoes.
As they swayed to their wedding song, Becca buried her face into his chest. Matt lifted her chin so he could make eye contact with her. “Why are you doing that? Your face is completely fine.”
“I'm just worried. Different parts of my body are shifting, and I try to focus where I feel it the most... But I'm scared it'll happen on my face and I won't catch it quick enough.”
“You still have a tail?” Matt asked with concern.
“A bit. Why?”
“You're wagging it.”
“Oh, God! I hope no one saw! Don't talk to me for a sec. I'll try to make it go away.”
The rest of the song was danced in strained silence.

“You seemed so intense dancing up there!” Jack commented as they walked off the dance floor.
“We didn't want to look stupid,” Becca replied. “We were,” she exchanged knowing glances with her new husband, “concentrating.”
“On what?”
“On not stepping on each other's feet,” Matt added with an unconvincing laugh.
Matt's grandmother, who had sauntered over seconds before, commented, “Well, I think the problem is that your shoes are a little too big, dear.”
Her eyes remained on the new bride's face.
Unnerved, Becca ran a finger down her cheek. It was slightly fuzzy.
She wrestled with herself. Do I run away and hide, or do I bite the bullet and tell everyone I'm turning into a dog?
Noting her obvious inner turmoil, Matt stepped in. “Grandma Michelle, did you see that Uncle Charlie came? I didn't get a chance to see him. Let's go say hi!” With a backwards glance at Becca, he drew his grandmother away.
Sherry walked up. “You doing okay?” she uttered.
Becca held her hands to her face. “I have to go shave. Again.”

When the waiter took dinner orders, Becca chose beef, which made Matt laugh. “No CTD Premium food for you today?”
“Cut it out, Matt!” Becca replied ruefully. “Or I'll become a full sheepdog in front of Grandma Michelle.”
“You shouldn't be embarrassed about changing. There's whole communities...whole societies... who are obsessed with CTD! I love you when you're transformed. I love watching you transform!”
“Maybe on the honeymoon,” Becca uttered emptily.

Becca found herself back in Matt's arms, sashaying to music that she wasn't hearing. Her head pounded, and she was exhausted from fighting the changes her body so desperately wanted to take on. Giving up sounded more and more tempting with every moment.
“Your ears are changing,” Matt whispered, pulling several tendrils of hair over them.
Becca tried her best to reverse the change.
“Are you trying to stop it?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“It's not working. Just cover them. Put your veil back on!”
Becca raced into the bridal room, retrieving the veil and placing it artfully on her head. She swept the lace back over her hair so her ears were covered but her face was not.
When she re-entered the hall, she was accosted by a group of older relatives that she didn't recognize. Grandma Michelle quickly pushed past them all.
“Why are you wearing your veil? Your hair is so beautiful, dear. Let it show!”
“Oh, it's such a pretty veil, with the flowers and sequins...” Becca stuttered, tugging at it nervously. “It's a shame to not use it.”
Once again, Grandma Michelle gazed at her momentarily, then shrugged and started pulling guests before her. “This is Tracy, my aunt's granddaughter, and this is Millie from Florida. This is Dr. and Mrs. Rouncewell, oh, their daughter is the one...” her voice trailed off.
“She has CTD,” Mrs. Rouncewell said quietly.
“So very...sad,” Grandma Michelle uttered with obvious distaste.
“She's doing very well,” contributed the doctor, casting an angered look at Grandma Michelle.
Grandma Michelle clicked her tongue. “I'm sure she is, I'm sure she is.”
An uncomfortable silence ensued.
“Soo...” Becca began, searching for something to say.
The maitre d' announced, “Your meals are served!”
Thank God, Becca murmured under her breath, and she shuffled back to her table.

Becca devoured her food as well as Matt's, and then sat back, waves of fatigue running through her. Her whole body tingled with the changes, and she felt herself lurch...
“I just shrank, Matt,” she muttered in his ear.
He examined her closely. “I can't tell.”
“Not yet... Plus, I'm sitting down.” She put her hands to her temples and leaned down on the table, forcing her body to pause, praying that the changes would subside.
Push away the fur, lose the tail...
Matt tapped her on the shoulder. “Let's dance.”
“I can't...I can't... Oh, God, I feel my teeth shifting...”
He ran his hand down her back. “You better shave if you can't make the fur go away...”
“But I just did,” she moaned. “I'm doing it over and over again!” But she slunk back to the bathroom, hoping no one would notice her missing few inches. Yet again, she brandished the razor and shaved every part of her body. But it felt like a losing battle. The pressure in her face signaled that it would soon twist into a snout, and the black nose and doggy eyes wouldn't be far behind. Her tail had grown to length once more...
She threw herself onto a bench, fighting the tears, forcing back the transformation with every last remaining bit of strength.
Carla crept in, checking to see if anyone else was in the room. “Becca, it's me, Mom.”
“Mom, it's hopeless,” Becca turned away. “I'm so stupid! But no one ever said that drinking would mess up someone when they were post-CTD!”
Carla placed her arms around her. “You're almost there...just get to the end of the party, and then you can let go.”
“Let go, huh? I just let my stupid body turn into a puppy?” Becca looked in the mirror. The tip of her nose darkened even as she watched. “Oh, damn! There goes my nose!”
“We can fix that!” Carla ripped a bottle of concealer from her purse and rubbed it over her daughter's nose.
The bride observed her mother's handiwork. “Well, it'll do.”
“Drink more CTSlower!” Carla cried, pulling it out from a bag and handing it to her.
“It didn't help before!”
“It can't hurt!”

Back at the table, Becca drank a cup of water, fighting not to lap at it with her long, floppy tongue.
“Come on up to cut your cake, Mr. and Mrs. Parks!”
“I can't!” Becca moaned forlornly.
“Yes you can.” Matt grabbed her hand and led her across the floor. As she expected, she immediately walked out of her shoes – but this time, her doggy-nails were in. And they popped straight through her stockings.
As she felt them rip up her leg, she froze, gasping.
“Becca, you're fine,” Matt whispered.
“My feet... are paws...”
“The dress covers them.”
“Those shoes are too big! I told her!” Grandma Michelle pointed out from her table. The crowd tittered.
Becca grabbed the knife as well as she could. But her fingers were small and truncated, so Matt quickly placed his hand over hers and helped her cut the cake. Lovingly, he placed some in her mouth, and she did her best to feed some to him.
“Did that girl get shorter?” Grandma Michelle called out.
Becca grasped her husband's arm. “Matt, I can't do it anymore.”
“Fight it! We're almost there!”
Carefully, he led her back to their table. She arranged her dress around her to cover anything remotely dog-like, and then she sat still and prayed.

Several people made a toast, and then a Viennese table was wheeled out.
“Oh,” cried Becca, disappointed. “This is my favorite part, and I can't do it. I can't get my hands back to pick up a freaking plate of food...” She fought back tears of frustration.
“I'll get you some stuff. Just stay right there.”
Matt left, and Sherry came over, a worried expression on her face. “You're struggling, and you're letting it ruin your wedding. Don't! If you have CTD, you have CTD! Embrace it, like they say to!”
“I'm so embarrassed. I can't fight it much longer! I'm so tired!”
Sherry looked around the room, then back at her friend. “You know what, Becca? To hell with everybody! A bride that can turn into a dog is awesome! And I'm going to prove it!”
Before Becca could ask what her friend meant, Sherry had run off and Matt returned. He set a plate heaping with cake and cookies before her, and Becca dove in.
Meanwhile, Sherry ran up to the DJ and grabbed his microphone. “All the girls who have CTD, come on the dance floor and change with me!”
A gasp of horror rose from the older generation, but several cheers and hoots joined in from the younger.
“Oh, God, Matt! Don't let her do that!” Becca cried.
He smirked. “Why not? I'm tired of all the secrecy. I hate the stress it's putting on you!”
“But your grandmother! The family, the...” The bride's voice was drowned out as “Who Let the Dogs Out” boomed over the speaker. Several girls of all ages joined Sherry on the floor. Cheering each other on, they danced and began to change at different paces, resulting in a strange assemblage of half-humans, half-dogs.
Most of the crowd had risen from their chairs. Some clapped with the music, while others were shouted in rage.
Grandma Michelle screeched mostly incomprehensible nonsense, her hand clasped to her chest. She came stumbling towards them.
“Here she comes,” Matt said, quite amused.
But strangely, Becca's attention had fallen to the plate of sweets before her.
“Matt, thanks for getting this for me. This cake is delicious! What is it?” She felt extremely lightheaded as she spoke.
“...How dare you allow this...debauchery at your wedding? It's downright disgusting! I've never been so disturbed in my life!”
But Matt's grandmother's words ran together in Becca's mind, and she suddenly felt pins and needles all throughout her body. “Matt gave me such delicious cake, Grandma Michelle,” she giggled disjointedly.
Matt first looked happy, and then his face grew white with realization. “Oh, no... Oh, no...” He ripped the plate away from her. “You can't...”
“What are you doing? Why are you taking my stuff? Oh, man, I'm so itchy...”
Casting his eyes to the syrupy mess left on her plate, he uttered, “That's rum cake.”
All at once, Becca seemed to implode into her dress. Her body shrank and changed so quickly, the lace and satin ballooned out, leaving a terrified sheepdog in her wake.
“My God! Matty's girl has CTD!” screamed Grandma Michelle, and she fainted dead away.

The guests had all gone. Grandma Michelle had been carted off to the hospital. But Matt remained in his chair, his shaking, fuzzy wife in his arms. He ran his hands through her fur, murmuring and reassuring her. The waiters and workers cleaned the hall around him, casting him anxious glances, but no one asked him to leave.
“I thought dogs didn't really cry tears,” he commented, noting his wife's watery eyes.
She shook her head, whimpering her distress.
“It's okay, it's okay.” He kissed her wet, matted coat. “What happened doesn't make us any less married, and it doesn't make me love you any less. In fact,” he leaned his face closer to hers, “it was perfect – the look on my grandmother's face – priceless! That'll teach her!”
Becca's parents approached, bags and boxes balanced in their arms.
“Don't worry. We took care of everything. We have all the gifts and stuff in the car,” said Becca's mother. “We'll give it all to you when we see you.”
“My parents left, huh?” Matt asked.
Carla nodded. “They were the first ones to stomp out of here. I'm sorry.”
No one spoke. Becca whined sadly.
“You want us to cancel the honeymoon?” Jack asked.
“We're not leaving until tomorrow night, so we'll see how she's doing.”
The head waiter beckoned to them. “Your car's waiting, sir.”
With a sigh, Matt rose, his wife clasped tight in his arms. “Let's go, Becca.” He brought her outside where the limo sat, its driver holding open the door.
“Congratulations, sir,” the driver greeted him, his eyes on Becca.
“Thank you.” Matt stepped closer, but the driver blocked him.
“Sorry, sir. No pets in the car.”
Completely at a loss, Matt could only stand wordlessly. Then, setting his jaw, he pushed past the man. “She's not a pet. She's my wife.”

They slept in a fancy hotel that night, Matt spread out upon the silken sheets, Becca curled up in his arms. Memories of the evening flooded her brain, and she wished she could talk about it with her husband. The impossible dog-tears returned, dampening Matt's pajamas, but he didn't awaken.
What a wonderful wedding night, were Becca's last thoughts as she fell off, her head tucked between her paws.

Becca awoke as the sunrays poured through the shade they'd never closed. She had reverted somewhat overnight, but she still was dog-sized and identifiably canine.
“A little Becca. I love it. Do you think you stay that height but go back to being completely human?”
The bride scowled, sitting up. “Oh, Matt, last night was so awful! I wish I'd known that even post-CTD I'd be sensitive to alcohol.” She focused on her body, and grew back to her original height. The fur quickly disappeared, and the last vestiges of her canine self – tail, floppy ears, paws, and black nose – vanished.
Matt embraced her tightly. “I love when you do that. It's like – magic.”
“I know you love it and all, and I guess the idea is cool, but it destroyed my wedding. I mean, there's people who might never speak to me again now that they know.”
“Anyone who's that closed-minded doesn't deserve to speak to you anyway. Now,” he pulled her closer, “we have things to do.”
Their lips met, they embraced tightly...
...and then Becca pulled away, eyes wide.
“Matt!” she exclaimed, holding his arm out in shock.
“What? What?”
For a moment, there were simply no words...
Finally, Becca took a deep breath. “You're growing...fur!!”