Rob tried to control his frustration, and looked around some more. He simply had to get out of this canine body, and quickly. He had to get into a human body and get to that dumpster before someone came and emptied it. The problem was he kept getting chased when he tried to get into stores. He'd have to simply find any statue or manikin he could. He turned away from the shop and down the nearest street. From his low, street level view of things, he was having a hard time keeping oriented on the crowded streets. Abruptly, a storefront loomed out in front of him, and he pushed his forepaws up against the glass window, looking up into a sports shop of some kind. Before he could fully sort out what he was looking at, he felt the first hints of the cold tingle. Quckly, he held his eyes on the runner, even as he realized the spandex clag figure he was staring at was certainly female. Abruptly he felt himself surging upwards and blinked as a stone dog stood in the window of the shop.
Rob quickly sprinted away, even as he wrestled with the improbable feelings of snug lycra clinging to a lean, muscular, female form. He didn't want a repeat of the scene with the cops. Clad in sneakers, at least Rob was able to move with some ease, although his hips swayed oddly, and he was painfully aware of the breasts moving under the sports top he was wearing.
Rob made his way back to the back of the dress shop. He carefully peered into the dumpster, and found his legs, torso and armless hands. He also found his clothes, tossed in with the body parts. He was surprised, but pleased, to find his wallet and keys. Uncertain what else to do, he slowly walked to his car and put the disconcertingly familiar manikin parts into the trunk.
