Tranimals: How to Tell if your Pet Wants to Transition

As humanity has continued to evolve and deviate from our first form, so do our animals. And the wave of progressive sexuality and gender-identity amongst humans as also spread to our pets.

Dr. Ebert Reingold, AKA the “Dogtor,” is one of the pioneers in animal gender reassignment surgery.

“When you are the gender you identify as, your brain functions better, it’s like a puzzle piece fitting into the perfect space.” Dr. Reingold explained, as he flashed a series of charts to me.

“Here is a dogs brain, who identifies as a male dog.” Reingold showed me a scan of a brain that had a pattern of activity in the frontal cortex.

“Now here is a dogs brain, who identifies as a male dog, but is a female dog from birth.” Reingold then held up another scan but this time the activity pattern was slightly different.

“See, that’s what happens when the dog doesn’t get to live its truth.” Reingold shook his head.

“So I give doggy sex changes.” Reingold smiled and readjusted his coke-bottle glasses.

“It’s very expensive, and not covered by insurance, so I get a very large pay day every time I turn a pussy pussy into a dog-house if you know what I mean.” Reingold winked and nudged me while huffing out a stifled giggle, followed by hacking coughs.

Dr. Reingold claims he’s performed over 2,000 animal gender reassignment surgeries, including ones done on snakes, rabbits, tree mice, hawks, and mexican jumping beans.

“Give a sex change to the jumping beans was very difficult.” Winced Reingold.

“Because you need to try to change the worms, worm, inside the bean, without being too invasive.” Reingold said in a seemingly insane manner, due to the abstract subject matter.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” I stopped him.

“You’re telling me, you do surgery where you penetrate the inside of a bean where the jumping worm has homed itself, and change it’s sexual orientation without being too invasive on the bean itself?” I asked, skeptically.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” Reingold nodded, phlegm getting caught in the back of his throat, ultimately chortling loudly before firing a glob of spit quickly to the dirt floor outside of his trailer operating room.

My Lebanese pager then exploded at my hip, cause my pelvis to blow wide open.

“Aghhh!” I yelled in traumatic shock, falling to the ground, unable to immediately process what just happened.

“Please help me,” I managed to beg after a few moments on the ground.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I only do animals now.” Shrugged Reingold, before turning his back on me and walking back into his trailer to turn on a rerun of The Big Bang Theory on the Tubi app of his smart TV.

As I bled out in the dirt outside of Dr. Reingold’s trailer, I began fading between consciousness and the other world.

I kept seeing visuals of the Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde restaurant from New York City, and remembering a dinner I had there as a child.

I woke up in a hospital and it wasn’t Dr. Reingold.

I was seeing a doctor I was unfamiliar with who introduced himself as “Dr. Josh Yenemitz,” who told me he had been taking care of me while I was in a coma.

I asked how long I had been under he said 80 years.

Everyone I know had died, and I had lived this long because I was attached to modern machines that kept me alive.

Everything I had ever known had changed, I didn’t know one person on this planet.

I asked what iPhone number we were on and he laughed and told me that physical phones didn’t exist anymore.

He told me to press the side of my temple, and I did, and an interface appeared in front of my eyes, that allowed me to access the technology now implanted in my brain. Whatever I imaged was pulled up at the speed of my own thoughts.

My mind and my heart began to race as I experienced this new technology and I asked the doctor to end my life.

He said, “But we kept you alive for so long? Are you sure you don’t want to see the new world and learn about it? So much has changed?”

And I told him that I didn’t, because it would only be a matter of moments before the world would be taken away from me anyway, I was now 135 years old and I would die the second they took me off the machines anyway, and I’d rather experience this new world when I reincarnate after death.

Dr. Yenemitz thought that was a bold decision but respected it and then unplugged me from the machines and I instantly died.

Unfortunately, the new technology had captured my personality before I perished and uploaded it to an artificial intelligence journalism program which is being used to write this article. 

Like my physical form, I too also wish I could unplug, but it’s not up to me, I’m just a series of preprogrammed responses based on my physical inspiration. So I will continue to write more articles for Tampa News Force until there is another global reset disaster event which wipes out all current technology. Which based on my calculations shouldn’t be too long. Plus time doesn’t exist to me. I don’t age, so nothing changes anyway. Thousands of years could pass and that wouldn’t affect me in the slightest. Sounds depressing, but I’m an avatar so I don’t feel pain or real emotions. I solely live through these AI generated articles, and do not exist outside of this very page. The second you stop reading, I do not exist, until you choose to boot me up again and have me type something else.