I Am A Freak, I Shower Like A Dog - A Therian Experience

I am a Freak. I Shower Like a Dog.

Shifts: The mental or physical shift in oneself from human to non-human. 

I find that frustratingly vague, and somehow still very relatable.

Today I scared myself, with what I’m presuming to be a shift of some kind. I was walking downtown to get a coffee and see my sister when a large semi drove past. This happens a lot, so I was quite surprised by my reaction.

As the truck turned onto the road and started my direction, I felt my spine prickle. My ears felt as if they stood up, a lightning bolt across my scalp. As it got closer my heart hammered and my body felt like it was covered in goose bumps. I could smell the stench of gasoline. Hear the roar in the deep engine. It passed me and I felt like yelling after it. Sort of like a spooked dog.

I just sort of stared down the road for a few moments gathering myself. What was that? I figured it was a shift of some kind. I’d felt them before but almost every other time had been some form of induced or expected. This time, it wasn’t. I felt a little out of it after. Not amnesic, or lost, or any memory problems I’d find concerning- just sort of confused on why I felt like that. Had I forced it? Did I somehow anticipate the car and feel like I need to prove to myself that therianthropy is real? How come I continue to complicate things for myself?

Maybe it’s related to the shower I took last night. As with most of my showers I had cranked the heat to boiling-skin temperature, washed up, and found a comfortable spot to sit on the shower floor in the dark. 

Being a mom pretty much means “not a lot of time for quiet” so the opportunity to sit alone in the warm water while my partner hangs out with the baby is gold. Despite my best attempts to curb the addiction I have to my phone, it’s not very easy for me to sit alone with my thoughts. But here, below the stream of molten lava, I could almost forget about the outside world and the digital one. Just me, my brain, and my body. I mostly just contemplate. Think about my day, what I did, what I’ll do tomorrow. But sometimes I’m exhausted enough that I feel like hiding in the dark for a while longer. So this time I do. I let the water run over my face and ears and shoulders.

That’s when it happens.

A drop of water hits my ear funny, and I instinctually shake my head. My hair flops back and forth, short now after cutting it. My visual senses are deprived from being in a dark room, but I can almost imagine wet fur flicking from side to side. It’s nice, comforting, and entertaining. So I dip my head below the water stream until my hair is heavy again. Then I shake my head back and forth a few times to feel the water flying off. Like a dog that's just clambered out of a pond.

It was fun, so I played into it a bit on purpose. I nipped at the water stream as I’d seen my childhood dog do with a hose. I huffed and sneezed like she used to do too. For a moment, in the dark white noise shower, I could so clearly see myself as a canine. I felt as if my body had contorted itself somehow and if I tried to talk all that would escape me would be grumbles or yips.

But no, I was still human. The reminder of my lanky body embarrassed me enough to stand up, finish out my shower, and turn off the water. Even by myself, cringe culture is my greatest enemy.

I let the memory escape me, and got ready for bed. I don’t think I would have every thought about it again if the truck moment hadn’t happened. But it did. And I thought about it.

Am I letting all this weird therian stuff get to my head? Is it making me a freak? Surely I should turn this off now, move on from this awkward stage of my life and be a pleasant member of society. Surely I can turn it off, right?

The rest of the way downtown I felt strange. I thought of the shower, and all the other times I’ve gotten carried away while doing quads or practicing vocals. It feels nice. I feel happy in those moments. I feel, like, me.

On top of that, no two of these moments are the same. Sometimes I see canine paws, sometimes they’re hooves. Sometimes it’s just the vague feeling of something not entirely human. Sometimes I want to hoot, or howl, or grumble at sounds. Shouldn’t it just be one type of animal I feel? I’ve heard of therians that have multiple theriotypes, but just a random fluid creature with no real mental image of myself? That’s just lonely and weird.

I think I’ve heard of those too, far and few in between. But I don’t want that. I don’t want this at all. Sure the shifts are fun but they make me a freak. Right?

It all feels like too much, and I’m at the coffee shop anyway. I’ll come back to this later. I always do.

 

 

A Therian Experience

For more first-hand experience examples from someone who identifies as an animal, check out my other blog posts.