I change form at night, to man, so I can do those things only a human can do, things that require fingers, and English. I get on one of the computers, watch TV and DVDs, make calls. VoIP is a God-send or me, let me tell you. Sometimes I take the care out. And it is at night when we have our pack meetings.
I never eat any food from the fridge. Rarely do I eat food from anywhere in the house. My humans would notice. They never notice an fifty extra miles on the odometer. But a missing yogurt cup and they are ready to call Area 51 and demand its return. They know exactly what is in the fridge at all times. I need to learn how to set back an odometer, and keep forgetting to look into that.
I like all the CSI shows on TV, even though I am not exactly certain how many there are now. And there is never anything bad on Animal Planet. AP rocks. Don't laugh. Got to figure out how to orchestrate how to get Jack to take us to Africa. I dream of running across the Serengehtti. Literally. Really. I mean it. I dream about it several times a week. They are great, until Sven wakes e up from these dreams, which he does whenever he sees my legs twitching. Damn kid. I'd bite him if I didn't love him.
Bella, the oldest (12) and smallest (40 lbs.) dog, just jumped up on the couch, ready to watch TV. She watches TV with me most nights while I check e-mail and investments. Flecka is on the floor, at my feet. I reach down and stroke her coat occasionally as I tickle the keys here on Jack's laptop. My nightly transformations still unsettle Bella. She always gives a little growl ad whine. But, after the first night she saw it, Flecka has ever given it any mind at all.
Better end this. Got a message from Rex about a strange murder near here recently. A young woman was murdered and mutilated. Part of our duty is to look into all strange and especially brutal murders, to see if they are werewolf related. So, I will borrow the car tonight, go sniff around about this murder, see what scents I pick up.
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