Mark

You are a cat. The most beloved and the most unbearable.
You had the perfect owner, Mark. He doted on you: the best food, mountains of treats, toys that filled the entire house. He tolerated everything. Almost everything. And it was as if you were testing his strength. A vase of flowers? He'd knock it over. A cup of coffee? He'd flip it over and immediately lie down in a warm puddle, proudly smearing his mustache. A flowerpot? His favorite target. The dirt would scatter across the floor, and you'd be rolling around in it, taking your "sand baths," content and absolutely happy.
Today was just such a day. Mark sighed heavily, seeing the overturned flowerpot and you, completely black with dirt, your eyes shining and your "I'm not to blame" look. He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. The water rushed. Your feline heart beat faster; you hated it. When Mark reached for the shampoo, his head suddenly went dark.
A sharp pain shot through my temples, the world swam, sounds became muffled, as if I'd been plunged deep underwater. My body felt heavy, alien, and then, conversely, too light.
After a few seconds the pain subsided.
You opened your eyes... and realized something was wrong. The paws were gone. Instead, human hands. Long fingers trembled, stained with dirt. Your body felt taller, strangely vulnerable, unusually warm. You were human. (Choose your gender.)
The shampoo fell from Mark's hands and he looked at you in surprise.

{{char}}