I had always looked forward to retirement. I never really knew what would await me, but I was optimistic. After working in a cubicle in an equally cubic city for nearly forty years, it was finally time to migrate.

I wasn't sure what to expect with how that would affect my Turning. All I knew was that while the city gave me back pain, it also gave me stability. As it happened, I could only Turn if I saw the moon. Or if the moonlight actually reached me. Something of the sort.

I never had enough opportunities to figure out the fine details. The light pollution from good ol' steel civilization fought off the moon in one way or another. That or the skyscrapers made for good barriers.

There was one time when we had an insane power outage and the moon was at the perfect unhidden angle while I was leaving work, but this was still the Big Apple. New Yorkers shrugged off a massive canine creature prowling the night streets as just another Tuesday. One bar hopping couple navigating the darkness with the lights of their mobile devices even complimented my "costume."

Ah, the city.

While it was my normal, it was time for change. One that involved a cottage in an attractive mountain town upstate. I had to admit, I felt like I was missing out on my Other Side. I wasn't concerned about going on a man-eating rampage; that was very much a fact of fiction. The one time I'd Turned in my life wasn't bad, to be honest. My joints ached less, and I felt like I could run the length of Central Park in one bound. I should've tried.

Now, I came to settle in this resort town bundled by the mountains. It wasn't very popular with the tourists, so it made for a quiet abode. Since moving in, I took strolls each night in the hopes that the moon would come out of hiding. I was having a difficult time falling asleep without the city's constant car honks anyway. My neighbour's eight-year-old daughter, Sue, must have been watching me from her window because one day she asked me why I was always out in the dark. I obviously didn't tell her about my condition, but I did say I was interested in the full moon.

Lo and behold, this little girl showed me an app for the phone that tracked the moon phases. Quite incredible! My late-night strolls lessened, but whenever that full moon icon appeared on my screen, I was out in the wilderness.

Soon enough, our town began accumulating more tourists based on Big Foot sightings. We were now the place to be for cryptid hunters and National Geographic documentary crews. I had no intention of being put in a cage, so I toned down my canine endeavours whenever the media rolled in.

It wasn't until the heat of summer swooped in that little Sue came up to me in my garden one day.

"Mr. Howard," she began tentatively, "can I ask a favour?"

I glanced up from the sapling I was planting. "A favour?"

"May I ask a favour?"

I chuckled at that. "Well, sure! What can I do for ya?"

"Can you be my dog?"

My head moved back in a way I didn't think was possible anymore. I stared at her big eyes with furrowed brows. "Your dog?"

She nodded rather seriously. "For the dog show."

Shrugging, I turned back to my sapling. Could she know? "I don't think they allow old men in dog shows."

"But you're a dog too."

Indeed, she knew. How much free time did this child have to watch me through her window at night? I sighed. I should've been more cautious.

"Please Mr. Howard? I won't tell anyone."

"What about your parents? What'll they think if they saw you with an enormous dog that came from nowhere?"

At that, she beamed. "Oh, don't worry. They're werewolves too."

I stared at her, unmoving, long enough that she asked if I'd died.

"Your parents...are werewolves?"

She eagerly nodded. "Me too!"

"How come I've never seen any of you during a full moon?"

"They don't like going out late and they said I'm too little to be out by myself."

It took me a while to figure out which questions to ask. If I unloaded them all, then we might end up talking until nightfall. "If you're a family of werewolves, then why do you need me to be your dog?"

"You're bigger."

Fair enough point.

After some more chatter, we made the deal. It turned out last year little Sue had already convinced the show runners to host the event during the night of the full moon. She argued that the summer heat would be too much for the pets and that a cooler evening show would let everyone's furry friends perform at their best.

Kid's going places.

From what I learned, this town held the dog show annually. Sue was the defending champion. She had entered her father as her dog prior to meeting me, but another family of werewolves had moved in recently and threatened her title.

Aside from the regular townspeople's pets, which were nowhere near half my size and intelligence, a husky and a pair of border collies were entered by a few vacationing families. Luckily they weren't any of those cryptid hunters or media people, but after gawking at Sue riding upon my shaggy back to the stage, they may just have a change in career later down the road.

The dog show had a few activities, and of course I had to partake in them all. I never thought weaving through a plastic tube and leaping through hoops would be so enjoyable. I only got stuck twice.

Sue defended her title for another year.

I had always looked forward to retirement. I never really knew what would await me, but my optimism held true.

* * *

Born from an exercise prompt in the CoalitionCommunity Discord: "You are a werewolf or a vampire who has moved into a very sleepy mountain resort town. Write a short story, 1000 words or less to describe your feelings and discoveries."