FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*by Hector Scofield. * Edited and Corrected by Ben243

PART 1

Somewhere in the mountain area between Albarn County and Coxon Valley, hidden in a forest of deciduous trees and an ever-insistent fog, is a small town called Seymour. It seems insignificant. One might say boring. Even dull. It has its mayor; it's sheriff department, a grocery store and so on. People work, pay their taxes, go to church and drink beer while watching sports. All in all not really an interesting place to tell stories about. But surprisingly, there is one worthy of being told!

You see: The citizens of Seymour had no insurances. If any problems struck one of them, they helped each other without hesitation. If anyone destroyed something, then he had to replace it. There was indeed a law that more or less said: "You break it? You replace it!" That sounds ludicrous and unworkable at first, but not for them. It seemed the most logical thing to do, and in fact it worked well that way for generations. Ironically, the following story is about an insurance salesman.

Sherman Hastings had heard about that strange town where nobody had any insurance. He couldn't quiet believe that it was possible in the 21st century for people to be living without any. And yet, none of his colleagues had managed to accomplish closing even one contract. Amateurs, he thought, ready to show them he could do better.

He was on his way, along a seemingly endless road through the forest. When he was 8 Miles outside of Albarn County, a really dense fog came up. After some miles, he heard his cell phone ringing. It was his ex-wife reminding him about the Alimony and he assured her, the check was on its way. As he turned off, he suddenly felt the car hit something and slammed on the brakes. As he stopped his heart was beating like a jackhammer in his chest. It took him a while to calm down, and get out of the car and check the condition of his Porsche. There was a dent and some blood on his fender, but nothing a good mechanic couldn't repair.

When he looked around to see what he had hit, he was surprised to see the animal was a big, beautiful black-brown German shepherd. But it wasn't just any Shepherd. He wore a black vest with the imprint SHERIFF on it and his tag had the form of a badge with the characteristic Six-pointed star. Sherman decided to take a closer look. The poor thing was still alive and in great pain. He stroked the bits of his fur that weren't full of dirt and blood, feeling guilty for being that unfocussed and careless. Unsure of what else to do, he called an ambulance.

He had waited for a while in the vet's office; nervous about what would happen when the sheriff arrived. The Sheriff was a middle aged Bull necked man with a gut like a barrel, a grayish horseshoe mustache and balding grey hair. The uniform he wore was a dark brown shirt with khaki trim, tie and pants. He approached the receptionist, and asked about the state of his Dog, Butch. He was told that he's coming through, but for at least the next two months he wouldn't be fit for duty.

Sherman wasn't comfortable near cops and hated to deal with them. Especially this Sheriff with his deep demanding voice, but he decided it would be the best to get over with it. He hadn't even begun to express his regret about what happened, as he found himself arrested and pushed outside to the sheriff's car.

The next morning, after a long and uneventful night in a jail cell, Sherman was visited by his lawyer. The lawyer told him that he would fix this mess and already had everything well in hand. Everything was set for a hearing later that afternoon.

Sherman was forced to wait in his cell until he was escorted to the court house. The lawyer explained to the judge that the whole thing was clearly an accident, and that his client had reacted appropriately. The more interesting question was, why the dog wasn't with the sheriff instead of wandering around in the woods. If anyone was to blame, then it was the sheriff's department! Sherman thought he was going to far. He could see the old man's face getting red in anger and hoped that It wouldn't result in him getting a stricter punishment. For a while it seemed they would win the case, until the Prosecutor presented Sherman's cell phone. Not good, Sherman thought. They had proof he was talking with his ex wife, while driving through the deepest fog. So they could prove it was his fault after all!

He was found guilty, fined 1000 Dollars and sentenced to Community service at the Sheriff's office while Butch was in hospital. Oh no, Sherman thought, of all places on earth why there? His lawyer tried to talk with the judge, to convince him at least to find another area where he could serve his sentence. But the judge replied that there was a rule in Seymour they all life by for generations: "You break it? You replace it!", and Sherman had to compensate for the absence of the Sheriff's Dog, because he was at fault! What was he supposed to do there, the lawyer asked, it isn't like Sherman could take Butch's place. The judge banged his gavel, and left him without an answer, but a rather mysterious glance in his eyes.

Still in shock, Sherman made his way to the Men's room, where he splashed his face with cold water. He couldn't believe what was happening! He thought of trying to escape, but the windows were barred and even if he could manage to leave the town, they knew where he would go. Could the day get any worse? It seemingly could! All of a sudden the Sheriff entered the room and glared at him exuding an air of authority. Sherman's heart wasn't just beating; it was galloping like a horse at the Kentucky derby! For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. Somewhere water was dripping into a tub, and people could be heard speaking in muffled voices behind the walls. All of the sudden the Sheriff yelled at him. It wasn't in anger or despair over the condition of his K9 partner, it was an exercise of authority. It was a simple command: "Sit!"

Sherman was so baffled, he dropped to a sitting position on the cold tiled floor without thinking about it. He was about to say something, but was too shocked about what happened next. The fat old man ripped off his clothes like they were tissue paper, then forced him out of his shoes and dumped it all into a nearby garbage bin. Then he pulled out Butch's collar, fastened it around Sherman's neck and attached a leash to it. When Sherman tried to resist, he was commanded "Stay!" and the Sheriff's voice went through him like a lightning strike. He was too afraid to move a muscle, until he was told otherwise.

As they left the men's room, the people around them acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a man to be led on a leash on all fours, naked. It almost seemed like they weren't ignoring them, it felt like they thought he really was a dog. Sherman wasn't sure what was worse: Being violated and humiliated by that man without anyone caring about it or his allowing it happen without being able to resist.

Back at the Sheriff's car the old maniac, as Sherman was calling him in his thoughts, pulled out Butch's vest from the backseat. Much to Sherman's dismay, it was quickly wrapped around his body. It was tight, but strangely not as tight as he had imagined it would be. At least they would enter the car now and he could end this embarrassment for now, he thought. But he was wrong. The Sheriff closed the door and commanded him to follow.

While they were patrolling the streets Sherman's behavior got more and more doglike. He became accustomed to going on all fours, following his new master's commands and could even smell like a real dog. He took in the scent of the old timer beside him. The salty sweat, the aroma of the leather he wore on his belt and shoes. The people they met greeted them as if everything were normal. He began to think of himself as Butch, and the sheriff as his master. Some of the people even petted him and he couldn't help himself, and started licking their fingers. He wasn't comfortable at all with the whole situation. It was completely and utterly insane. But for the moment he had no control over anything!

When they finally reached the sheriff's office, he was taken off the leash and took his place on an old grey Dog blanket! Sherman had become quiet thirsty and took some water out of Butch's bowl. It tasted awful at first, but it was also strangely familiar to him! Another man in Uniform, a thinner, younger, muscular Deputy with short trimmed blond hair entered the office with a bunch of papers under his arms. He looked down at him and grinned: "You're sure that's not the real Butch!" he asked the Sheriff. The Sheriff nodded, leaning over some files he was reading. "He really looks like the real thing to me!" Sherman, who was examining his hands, but couldn't quiet see any difference, listened while the deputy explained: "Self-perception, you see! Your mind is still resisting what's happened, but the more you accept it, the more you will see the difference.

Now don't look at me like that! It's your own fault, buddy!" The sheriff scolded him. My deputy knows all about it, he got himself in quite a similar predicament with Mr. Norris' Motorcycle. "Don't remind me of that!" the Deputy replied, shaking in remembrance of the old man's short panted legs against his body. Not to mention the oil he was spitting for days afterwards!

For Sherman this all still made no sense and was a complete mystery to him. At least he didn't have to sleep in a kennel, but in Butch's Dog bed in the sheriff's bedroom. He could handle that, despite having to see the old man in his underwear. At Breakfast he found that dog food was surprisingly tasty though.

He began to accept his fate, and as the deputy had told him, he began to see the change in himself. His arms seem to get thinner, his hands shrinking to paws and he could feel fur all over his body. After his third day at the office he felt a strange wiggling sensation at his ass and saw he had a tail now. His vision shifted, the colors in his vision shifted, and the lower parts of his face began to obstruct his view. He now had a muzzle and his nose felt wet. His skull narrowed down and his ears were long, pointy and more moveable than before. It wasn't a week until he found himself fully transformed into a German Shepherd. He would be stuck as "Butch" for a while now.

In the meanwhile Sheriff McEntire, as he was called and Deputy Dumbass, as Sherman was calling him - he was actually called Denvers - gave him some training. They showed him how to attack and overpower criminals, led him around a parkour course and even taught him some tricks. Sherman realised, they weren't doing it to embarrass him, although he still kind of felt that way. It was part of the deal it seemed: He had to play Butch's role as accurately as possible or the whole thing could last for much longer.

As the days passed it all became routine, as if he hadn't ever been anything other then the Sheriff's trusted dog. It seemed like there had been no supernatural force at all transforming him and he had simply dreamed all the years as a human being or even Insurance Salesman. He remembered though, when he witnessed another rather strange thing happen. Sheriff McEntire drove them to some mechanics that were about to remove a red hydrant at Roundtree Street, seemingly to replace it with another one. Strangely, the first hydrant wasn't broken. The Fire department had actually used it the other day, attaching a Hose and all of that. There was something rather odd about the hydrant. The Sheriff often scolded Sherman when he tried to pee on it. Deputy Denvers on the other hand even encouraged him, often with a mean grin on his face. Sherman didn't understand, but he obeyed his instincts and marked his territory.

Now he regretted what he did! Because soon after the mechanics laid the castoff hydrant on the grass it began to transform. It grew a head, arms and legs, while the red color turned first into a light pink, then a pinkish flesh-color. After a while the whole figure became a grownup human being that was shaking nervously. The Sheriff came over with a blanket and said he would take him home. As they passed the back of the Sheriff's car, the hydrant man looked angrily at Sherman, who hid his face in shame about what he had done! From now on Sherman saw his surroundings with different eyes - everything could have been a transformed human, replacing something he or she had broken.

They occasionally visited the local schools to check for illegal substances and weapons. Some of the kids wanted to stroke the Dog, but that was even too weird for the old Sheriff. He could see, that Sherman was concerned it would effect the deal. They were able to send his company a message he would need to take a leave of absence, but sooner or later he would have to return home. The Sheriff understood his problem and came up with a solution. The new "Butch" was in top shape and showed some promising results at training. So he was signed up for the annual K9 Expo in Albarn County. That at least would guarantee him some points so that his punishment could end as planned, when the real Butch left the hospital.

Deputy Denvers volunteered to attend as his handler, but he could tell from his look, that he had more planned then simply showing off at the expo. While they drove all the way through the forest, Sherman had to lie in a cage at the back of the Sheriff's car. As they were crossing the point where he had hit Butch and the whole mess began, he suddenly felt as if there was something out there in the woods. A presence. And he could have sworn, there was a white Wolf out there in the mist. Looking at him, with human eyes...

PART 2

Sherman wasn't happy, he had to spend the night in a kennel preparing for the Police dog show and Expo. He was housed next to some other Police dogs from all over the country. The constant noise of their whining and barking, the mind numbing smell of his colleagues and the cold floor he could still feel through his blanket made him miserable. He was glad on the other hand to at least get some sleep after the long ride and the reception, when his so called handler Deputy Denvers greeted his colleagues, Police officers, Sheriffs, Troopers etc. He had to exchange scents with their respective canine partners, let them nuzzle him all over and do the same as if he were a normal dog. Some liked him a bit too much for his taste, others growled and barked at him and he was embarrassed when his instincts kicked in and he barked back, until being scolded by Denvers.

If that wasn't enough he had an appointment with the expo's veterinarian team, checking every inch of his body, sticking their fingers in his mouth proofing his teeth. They even scanned his microchip... he hadn't even known he got one. Must have been one of the things he got from the original Butch. It seemed he was a dog in the eyes of the government too! Denvers was asked why he wasn't neutered, and Sherman gave him a warning look not to make any dumbass jokes. The Deputy replied, he was a good breed, from a family of brave and loyal Police dogs. No reason he shouldn't produce some reinforcements! Sherman got a number for the expo and was glad to get out of there. He thought about Denver's words. Was he really able to reproduce? With another Dog? One thing was clear: He had no desire whatsoever to test this theory.

Later they had some training for tomorrow's trials, before Sherman was locked away and fed some yucky Dog food with Beef and vegetables. Denvers for what he was worth would probably be having some drinks with his colleagues or a date with this "Hot Sergeant" he'd met earlier. That's not fair, Sherman thought. When he got turned back into a human he would have a week off at a Spa and as many cocktails as he could drink. For now he had to cope with the cold kennel floor and hope to get some sleep. It took him a while but he finally made it into Morpheus' arms.

He had a rather peculiar dream, about running through the forest, hunting something in front of him. The white Wolf! They came to a road; the Wolf crossed it to the other side. He tried to follow, but there was a sudden noise and before he could react, he got hit by a car... When he woke up the lights had been turned on again, and someone had come to give them their breakfast. While chewing his rabbit with bits in aspic, Sherman thought about the dream he had. Was it his dream? Or was it something he borrowed from Butch, like the microchip, his fur and anything else? Was Butch hunting the Wolf that day? Had that really happened?

Two hours later he was picked up by Deputy Denvers. He looked as if that date with the Sergeant hadn't been that successful. As he prepared him for the tournament he was clearly more grumpy than normal. He brushed him, wrapped his vest around his body and made sure he was presentable. Sherman himself was more than a little nervous. He knew what he had to do, the Sheriff and his Deputy had trained him well. At least he probably wouldn't embarrass them, but he saw no chance that he would actually win anything! The other teams had much more experience. There was also an audience this time, watching his every move and judge his every step. That was quiet alot to handle!

The contestants were led one behind the other by their respective handlers and got frenetic applause. An announcer introduced them to the audience. "...Number 3: Sergeant Michael Manzie from Albarn County Police Department with Rose. Number 4: Officer Jenna Austin from the Chicago Police Department with Carlos. Number 5: Deputy Norman Denvers from the Sheriff Department of Seymour with Butch..." Sherman looked up. Deputy Denver's first name was Norman? Okay, he had some resemblance with Norman Bates, but he looked more like a Frank or Sam, nothing that nerdy. Denvers registered his look and commanded him to focus.

The rest of the day they had to do all sorts of contests. "Butch" had to run alongside Denvers and stop on command, jump over obstacles, master parkours, and even show some of his Police dog skills, sniff out stuff, overwhelm a man in combat suit resembling a criminal... hell, he was glad he hadn't to jump through a ring of fire! But besides all the embarrassment, he couldn't help himself having fun. Even the attention from the audience made him feel great, like a star. He delivered a good show for them and they loved him for that. After an intermission of an hour, where he could rest and drink something, it was time for the results.

They all had to stand in a line, and the winners got a ribbon and their handlers a small trophy. Their colleagues were really good and Sherman was sure, although he gave his best, he wouldn't get that many points. 3rd place, maybe. He was a bit disappointed as he didn't win either that or 2nd place. He was even more baffled as it was announced he'd won the 1st prize. Denvers mood changed from one moment to the next. He was euphoric and gave his partner a good rub, congratulating him. Sherman was completely overwhelmed by the moment and would have cried if he had been able to. The blue ribbon was attached to his lead, and Deputy Denvers kneeled down to him, trophy in his hands and they posed for some photos for the press.

As a reward for his excellent performance the Deputy bought him a big T-bone steak and took him to a dog park that evening, where he could run and play with the other dogs. Of course Deputy Denvers had some ulterior motives. He knew Sergeant Manzie would be there and maybe a bit more open to him now that they had won. Another surprise for Sherman: He hadn't noticed that Denvers was into other men!

The next morning after Sherman had to spend another night at the Kennel, while Denvers and Manzie had some wild, passionate Cop sex in their hotel room, they drove back to Seymour. It seemed, it wasn't that bad being a Dog after all and he already felt a bit sad that it all had to end when Butch came back from the hospital. But that would soon change.

After quite some time they arrived at the Sheriffs Office. Sherman and Denvers expected to walk into a surprise party in their honor, but everything was as it always was. The Sheriff's Uniform jacket at the rack, paper everywhere, empty cups of coffee and the grey Dog blanket at the corner were all as he remembered them. The Sheriff was sitting at his desk, quiet and with his thoughts somewhere far far away. As Deputy Denvers asked what had happened, the old man looked at him with a serious, not angry, but sad face. Then he looked at Sherman and said: "I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!" - "What's going on? Tell us!" he was asked. But Sherman already knew what had happened. His heart sank into his knees. He felt lost and alone. All the happiness he had just seconds ago was gone. "I spoke with Dr. Keller an hour ago. Butch is dead!"

That was too much for Sherman. He ran out the door, around the corner and down the main street. He ran and ran, through people's feet, around parking cars. He ran into the forest, into the depths of the mist. And after what felt like hours he stopped at a clearing, completely out of breath, a burning sensation in his chest. Butch was dead! There was no hope, he could ever return to his old life again. He broke him. He had to replace him. He had to stay a goddamned German Shepherd for the rest of his life. Sniffing around, doing tricks, obeying his masters!

As he was lying down he realized, he could see himself as a human again, although he still was forced into his canine behavior. All acceptance of the whole situation he'd ever had vanished. He even began to freeze, but it didn't matter anymore. If he was freezing to death, it made no difference to him. Death was a mercy and he was going to embrace it. Suddenly he heard the noise of breaking branches and he looked up. Some feet away from him stood the white Wolf with the human eyes. And he looked on in wonder as he could hear an old female voice in his head saying: "Don't be afraid, I've come to help you!"

PART 3

It was obviously her voice he could hear in his head. And strangely enough his voice, his nearly forgotten human voice, asking her: "Who are you?" The white Wolf made another step towards him and replied: "My name is Yana! I'm the same as you. A human turned into an animal. But that happened quite a long time ago." He stood up and took in her scent. It wasn't the wild, earthly smell he'd expected. It was something different, ancient and mysterious. She continued: "I know about your predicament. And I heard what happened to poor old Butch. We were friends, you know!" Sherman remembered his dream: "He was hunting you!" She continued, "I was running! He just followed me!" Sherman shook his head, trying to recall "To the road?" She looked hurt at his insinuation. "It wasn't planned, if it's that what your thinking!" He believed her, at least in that instance. Yet he wasn't still convinced he could trust her fully.

"As I said, I can help you! There is still a way to turn you back into a human. Tell me, do you know the exact words of the one rule?" Sherman thought for a moment. "Something like: If you brake it, you replace it!" he replied. "I was sentenced to take the place of Butch, until he comes out of the hospital. Now he's dead and I'm stuck as his replacement." "No, you're not!" she corrected him. "The rule is not specifically that you have to take his place, but only to replace him!" Sherman mulled it over. "I don't understand? What am I supposed to do? Buy the Sheriff a new Dog? How shall I do that, in this condition? I don't have any money, let alone pockets!" She gave him a serious glare. "And yet you can provide for replacement, exactly as you are!" she told him. "You and me both!"

The Penny dropped. Realization dawned on Sherman. She wasn't seriously proposing...? No way! She confessed that she had pointed out this loophole for years, but all the canines she tried recruiting for her plan felt that she was something different and refused to cooperate. Except for Butch! But when he got too rough, she tried to scare him off and as this failed, she ran away. This just keeps getting better and better, Sherman thought: First in the body of a dog, now she wants me to mate with her. I'm supposed to become a father... of puppies?! Tiny little canines destined to become the Sheriff's new K9 dogs? Now he had heard EVERYTHING!!! No chance he would do that, it wasn't just insane, it was immoral, bonkers, and perverse. It was... unfortunately, his only option left!

"What about your son?" she asked him. "Don't you want to see him ever again?" He was baffled. How the hell could she have possibly known about that? "I have my sources!" she simply replied. It wasn't important anyway, she was right. He missed Jason and although he was a brat and despised his father, he still loved him. Sherman's mind was reeling. "But I'm not turning back right away, am I? The spell is only broken when one of my... of OUR pups take my place. How long could that take? 1 year? 2 years? Is it even possible for a Shepherd-Wolf-Hybrid to serve as a police dog?" Yana barked to stop his babbling and told him, that it was simply his only chance. It was this, or an eternity as the Sheriff's Dog! While Sherman let those words sink in, she turned around and signaled that she was ready when he was.

Suddenly he could smell that she was in heat. This was definitely not normal, even for a Wolf turned human. It made him extremely horny and she was hard to resist, but his human side was still in command, at least for now. He took a moment and considered her offer. He cautiously came nearer and found he was returning to his canine form. At least that will make things easier he thought. The whole situation was already awkward enough without him seeing and feeling his human limbs! He sniffed around a little, so his canine instincts could kick in. It was as if he was losing himself more and more in the Dog's mind. As he was about to mount her, he realized he'd become fully canine...

When he woke up the next day, alone in the clearing, the sun shining through the treetops, he was unsure if he hadn't dreamed the whole thing. All he knew was, he couldn't stay out here forever. So he went back into town. When he arrived at the Sheriff's office he suspected he would be scolded and even yelled at for running away. But the old man looked at him for a while as if he knew how Sherman felt, and had decided no words were needed. He gave Sherman something to eat and they simply prepared for their daily patrol. The rest of the day was routine, except for all the citizens that were congratulating "Butch" for his performance at the Expo and Deputy Denvers was preparing a shelf for their trophy. Mr. Jenkins, the town's reporter came to do an interview with him in the afternoon and Sherman gave his best effort to make a quiet happy face for the photos. But on the inside he'd given up! It made no sense to pretend being anything more than a Dog from now on.

When they returned home, Sherman found another surprise. The Sheriff led him into the guest room, where his Dog bed was now standing. The Sheriff told him, he was sorry he couldn't change what happened and that he had to stay his Dog and while they had to keep up the appearance in public, so it wouldn't get awkward for everyone, there was no reason Sherman couldn't have some sense of normalcy while they weren't on duty. Sherman was glad to have at least a little privacy, where he could be alone with his thoughts and try to maintain his humanity and what little sanity he had left.

Sherman wasn't sure what to say, and before he could even bark, was left alone by the Sheriff. All the time since their first encounter he'd experienced him as a strict, dutiful, but grumpy character. From Sherman's point of view not really mean, but certainly not very likeable. Sherman had to admit; there was definitely more about his new owner than he'd thought before. Later that night, when he came back from the garden after relieving himself, he past the old man's room, and found out, there was another reason for him to get his own room. He found the Sheriff crying. That made him realize that Sheriff McEntire had also lost something: His trusted partner and best friend, the original Butch. Sherman couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He pushed open the door and snuck up to the Sheriff's bedside to lick his hands. Shortly after he felt the old man's big butcher like hands on his head stroking him. This was the night when he truly became the Sheriff's dog. Much to his surprise he was no longer miserable about it. He would be Butch. He was needed and trusted and that satisfied him!

Two years had past since then. Yana never came back with their puppies, so Butch assumed she'd tricked him or their whole encounter was just a dream after all. Butch won another two Expos in a row and they were asked to join a breeding program. Denvers and the Sheriff were hesitant. Butch, who had learnt to communicate with them via Computer keyboard, told them about the loophole and convinced them to try. Cause although he was okay with being a Dog now, he still had an obligation to his son. At the end he found himself mating with Rose, the former K9-partner of Sergeant Manzie that had been taken off-duty after being wounded during a shooting. It felt wrong at first, cause unlike Yana she was a natural Dog, but then his canine mind kicked in again and he couldn't even remember the whole process afterwards. They had 5 healthy puppies: Lucky, Sammy, Martha, Judy and Butch II. They were so tiny and cute, and Butch couldn't help but feeling proud.

Butch II was supposed to join them in Seymour and get trained ASAP. But the whole plan was canceled when Butch found a photo of his human son Jason in the papers. He had won a Spelling bee in Washington D.C., even though he had never been very good in school before. The reason for that seemed to be his new stepdad, a College professor who was more willing to spend time with him and to work on his learning issues. After a few days of moping he decided Jason was better off without him and he would stay Butch forever. Butch II was adopted by Sergeant Manzie, and along with Lucky and Judy, they joined the K9 unit of the Albarn County Police Department. Sammy joined the Army and served as War dog in Syria. When his handler died, he became the pet of a General and mascot of Fort Lethbridge. A loving family adopted Martha, and she won a number of Dog shows like her father. They all shared their fathers higher than average intelligence, and each one ended up having many puppies.

Butch couldn't be prouder, and yet, he himself loved the calm simplicity of Seymour. Although it could get a bit dull sometimes, there was always something new. Even in the tiniest things he had learnt to find something surprising. The Drop box in Stephen Street... maybe it was a guy named Harold after all. Who knows! All he knew was, that it had been the best thing he could have wished for, to serve the Sheriff Department the way he did. His fur was his uniform, his teeth his weapon and his partner also his best friend and master. Always on duty, so the citizens of Seymour could sleep safe and well. Sherman Hastings meanwhile was declared missing and presumed dead! But who needed an Insurance Guy anyway?

BEING HAROLD

The few visitors that ever came to Seymour found it a beautiful, but rather ordinary little town. Nothing seemed really exciting or in any way out of place. Except for the Mailmen, if you watched them closely enough. There was an old blue Mail drop box near the edge of the forest, they were always greeting it like an old friend - "Good afternoon, Harold! Hope you got some good ones for me today!" - before emptying it. But nobody thought much about it, a simple quirk or superstition, nothing more! Except that this Drop box was in fact an actual person! You know, in Seymour there is this rule that everyone is living by: You break it? You replace it! And this rule is sometimes taken very literally. It's some kind of a magic spell or curse. Nobody really knows exactly. Only that if you destroy, let's say, a flowerpot or a bicycle, you become a flowerpot or bicycle yourself, until the broken thing gets repaired or replaced. Unless you broke something that's not replaceable, but that's another story.

The citizens of Seymour are obviously very careful with what they're doing, to avoid any unlucky transformations. As with any rule, there are some people caught in it unwillingly, forced to become a certain object. This was Harold. He was a Mailman himself! He was popular with the people because of his friendly and rewarding personality. He loved to go on his daily routes, visiting Mrs. Harrison who often made him some cookies, being told a dirty joke by Mr. Jenkins and stroking Lucy, the cat of Mrs. Loomis. He was proud to work for the Post Office; it was an essential and honorable profession in his eyes. He considered it the best thing that could possibly happen to him. If it had been up to him, he would have done this forever. But it wasn't to be.

Harold grew older and older. His hair got gray, his eyesight worsened and walking his daily route became more and more exhausting. He changed his leather bag for a place at the office, but even that became too much for him in time. When he finally retired his world fell apart. Depressed he wandered through the town, not sure what to do with the rest of his life. He began to drink, first a little bit, then to excess. He finally got so drunk, that he took a Baseball bat and in a fit of anger hit the blue Mail drop box outside his house. He was arrested and sentenced to replace it, while it was being repaired.

At first it was an embarrassing experience. He was stripped naked and sat at the place the box had stood. His flesh became metallic, his skin taking on the hue of the regulation blue paint. His shape became less defined, boxier. His internal organs seemed to disappear. On his belly the U.S. Mail logo appeared. Head, arms and legs, as well as his personal parts merged with his torso. His mouth widened to become the opening. Four metal feet were finally growing out of his closing buttocks, slowly elevating. It took him not even a minute to become a Mail drop box!

He was mostly left alone. Occasionally during the day people came by, opened his mouth and filled him with their letters. Although he had no eyes, somehow he could see them. And although he had no tongue he cold smell and taste the paper, and feel it lying around in his stomach. It was so immensely boring, staying around all day, by rain wind and snow. At least he couldn't feel it! Every afternoon a colleague of his came to empty him, acting as if he wasn't a person at all. He didn't harbor and resentment towards them! The whole town knew it was part of this strange magic that he had to be treated like the thing he was supposed to be. Otherwise he could get stuck in this form for much longer, or perhaps permanently. Mr. Donovan had been forced to stay a chair for two weeks more because his "owner" Mrs. Kendrick refused to sit on him.

It was late one night, and everyone was sleeping, except for Harold who wouldn't need to. He was about to recount every star he could see, when he heard a certain noise from the nearby forest. He heard a rustling and cracking, then the deep growling voice of an animal. Harold was startled when he saw it coming: A Wolf. A big white Wolf, lurking out of the bushes. But that wasn't even the scariest thing. This beast, it had... human eyes?

Harold would have screamed, but then, how could he? The wolf at least seemed to have heard him somehow and looked in his direction. Suddenly he heard a voice in his head: "Oh! Hello, I haven't seen you!" He couldn't believe it: Was the Wolf talking to him? But how? "No cause for panic, I'm a turned human like you!" she continued. He was sure it was a female voice. Yet her words were not very reassuring to him. He had spoken to lots of formerly turned people and none of them mentioned any telepathic abilities. "You haven't seen a small rodent by any chance?" - "No?!!" he tried to reply, unsure if she could even understand him. "So I lost him then - Great!" It seemed she could. "In that case, I'm off! Could we please keep this encounter between us?" - "Erm... sure!" - "Good! I'm Yana by the way!" - "Harold!" he said. "Nice to meet you, Harold! Until next time, must dash!" she said and left back into the forest.

As baffled as Harold was, he was actually glad when the white Wolf Yana returned the next night and the night after. She told him about the forest and what was going on out there. And he told her about what he'd seen all day long happening in town. Before long they became friends. On the last night of the spell, he told her how depressed he was turning back into his old, decaying body, that he missed his old job and hated it to feel so useless. Yana replied, she could understand him and remembered when she was a child and had her first encounter with a Mailman. She liked the way he wore that uniform, with the firmness and pride of a person that provided a valuable service for so many people!

He thought about her words for the few next days while he was recovering from his transformation. He couldn't sleep, ate only little and couldn't find anything to provide him even a bit distraction. After a while he made his decision: He took his old baseball bat and destroyed the Mail drop box once more. He told the sheriff and later the judge, he wanted to be of some use for the Post office again, and wanted to be left in the place of the Drop box forever. They found his idea ludicrous at first and even thought about sending him to an asylum. But in the end he convinced them of his dedication to the Post office. His former boss was touched with his commitment, and as Harold had no other family, he gave his blessing and even promised him a small opening ceremony. All his colleagues were there, paying their respects. The mayor made a speech and cut the red tape.

From that day on Harold was always greeted when emptied by the other Mailmen. There was no point to avoid breaking the rules anymore. But as time passed they weren't sure if his human side was actually still intact or if they were already talking to an empty shell. They stopped talking to him as if he were human, and spoke to him only as part of a daily routine. When they themselves retired it wasn't important for their successors to know if there ever had been a real Mailman Harold. For them it was superstition, a simple ritual they had learnt and passed on to whoever came next. For Harold, who was indeed still alive and aware, it was worse then just being ignored. He didn't fell respected anymore, that 'Being Harold' had become an inside joke or a McGuffin. He felt lost, forgotten and dishonored. Had it not been for Yana, who was still visiting him every night, he would have had no reason to be anything more than just an ordinary old Mail drop box. Harold wondered how it was that Yana had not seemed to age, and was just as he remembered her from their first encounter.

Harold had the suspicion she was more than just a transformed human. Maybe even the cause of the transformations in Seymour. But when he asked her about it once she simply ran away and left him alone for weeks. He never dared to ask her about it again. He needed her presence! She was the only one he still could talk to, the only one that could possibly attest that there was still a human being inside this rusty piece of metal.

With her guidance he had developed the ability to know what other people had written in their letters they were throwing inside him, which at least gave him something interesting to do beside her daily visits. But this also helped give Yana the opportunity to stay informed about most of what's happening in town. Although Harold had no idea what use it would be to her. He was at first hesitant about wither he should tell her about what was in the letters, he still believed in the Post code. But when he informed her about that she ran away again and left him for another week. He couldn't bear to lose her again, so he did as he was told.

Sometimes he had the strange feeling; as if it was all her plan from the beginning. That she was using his depression and loneliness, to trick him and force him into this life, to force him into becoming her private little spy. It was after all her words that made him make this decision. But no, that was stupid! What reason could she possibly have to do that?