Martha barely had time to organize her notes before her next patient burst into the clinic: Capi, an Australian cattle dog brimming with energy. He dashed into the exam room, barking at everything—the walls, the table, even his own leash—and skidding across the floor as his owner trailed behind.
“Dr. Martha, I don’t know what to do anymore,” the woman said, exasperated. “He never stops moving, barking, or chasing things. I love him, but I need him to calm down!”
Martha watched as Capi bounded around the room, her fingers tingling with the now-familiar electric buzz of her strange power. “I think I can help,” she said with a reassuring smile, her eyes drifting to the corner of the room.
There, inside a terrarium, sat a desert tortoise brought in earlier for a routine checkup. It lounged under a heat lamp, its slow-moving head poking out from its shell as it lazily nibbled on a piece of lettuce.
The contrast between Capi and the tortoise couldn’t have been more stark—and Martha saw an opportunity.
“Give me just a moment,” she said, focusing her energy on Capi and the tortoise. The crackling sensation surged through her hands, and with a flash of bright light, the transformation was complete.
Capi’s lean, athletic body now carried the slow, wrinkled head of the desert tortoise. His new face blinked slowly, his calm expression entirely at odds with his previously frenetic behavior. He lay down on the floor with a serene stillness, looking as though he had never barked or chased anything in his life.
Meanwhile, in the terrarium, the tortoise now had Capi’s energetic dog head. Proportionate to its new, bulkier frame, the tortoise-dog barked excitedly and wagged its stubby tail. But as it attempted to run, its movements were thwarted by its naturally sluggish body.
The dog-headed tortoise barked again, its legs moving as fast as they could—though in tortoise terms, that wasn’t very fast at all. It managed a slow, awkward shuffle before bumping gently into the glass wall of the terrarium. Undeterred, it barked louder, wagging its tail as it tried and failed to turn around quickly.
Martha turned back to Capi’s owner, who was crouched down, staring at her newly transformed dog in awe.
“Wow,” she said, stroking Capi’s tortoise-headed body. “I don’t know what you did, but he’s so mellow now! This is incredible.”
“I told you I could help,” Martha replied with a professional smile.
“This is amazing,” the woman continued, scooping up Capi, who remained perfectly still in her arms. “It’s like he’s a completely different dog. Thank you, Dr. Martha—you’re a lifesaver!”
“Always happy to help,” Martha said, watching as the woman carried her tortoise-headed dog out of the clinic, humming cheerfully.
Back in the terrarium, the dog-headed tortoise let out an enthusiastic bark, its legs scrambling in slow motion as it tried once again to move faster than its body would allow. It finally settled for nudging the lettuce in frustration, its tail wagging furiously behind its shell.
Martha chuckled to herself, making a mental note to “fix” the swap later. Her hands tingled as she glanced at her schedule.
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