Part of a new line of genetically crafted 'intelligent' pets, Zoey is an 'anthro' dog, modeled visually after toy shelties. She stands about three and a half feet tall, with long, thick fur that disguises her scrawny frame, making her look much heavier and beefier than she really is. A thick, white 'mane' wraps around her neck and extends down her chest and partially onto her belly, obscuring the two rows of tiny nipples that go down her body. Though physically an adult, she's still an animal, barely comprehending the confusing lives and technology of humans, and possessing an almost child-like innocence. 

These 'smart' pets usually have some sort of purpose to their breeding. Imagine, if you would, how useful a police dog could be for sniffing bombs and drugs, if he could actually speak English and understand direct verbal commands. Imagine a giant ferret trained to fetch items off of hard-to-reach shelves, or a cat that could be taught to keep the house tidy while the owners are away. But they just aren't as smart as humans are, with the smartest only being able to read and write at a middle school level and comprehend basic sciences that a small child would understand.

Zoey's role in life, however, was merely being a show-dog. She's too small for much physical labor, not smart enough or responsible enough to be a babysitter, but she's just perfect for showing off. Her owner, Peter, has always enjoyed brushing her fur to a shine, dressing her up like a little doll, and parading her around in public to show off what a pretty, pampered little girl she is. He's taught her to do tricks, navigate obstacle courses, and tell jokes, entering her into animal talent shows and beauty pageants whenever he got the chance. Competition among pet owners and breeders is stiff and they've never landed first place in anything, but the bonding experience of getting out, training, and competing has just been fun, and made them so close!

A year ago, Zoey had her first heat. The feelings were so confusing; She felt like her tummy was on fire, and found that touching and licking herself felt simply amazing. Peter scolded her for doing it in public a few times, after which she learned to only do it in the house. When she started to bleed, she panicked, thinking she had been licking herself too much! She ran to Peter, crying and terrified, and it took him over an hour of holding and snuggling the poor pup to get her to calm down, and explain to her that everything she just went through was normal, that it's her body ready to have a puppy.

Of course, that just got her really excited, and she begged and pleaded for over a week to have a puppy. Peter insisted, much to her dismay, that she was still too young.

"But you said I'm old enough!" She protested, in a childish whine, tugging on Peter's shirt and giving him those puppy dog eyes--the ones she's learned to use to get out of punishments for bad behavior, and get desserts after dinner time.

"I said your BODY is ready. You're still a little pup, yourself, Zoey! Maybe in a year or two, okay?"

"Only if you promise! Next year, please, please?? Promise??" She bounced on her little feet, fur fluffing up everywhere, as she kept up those pleading eyes.

"... Okay, next year. IF you're good all year, and IF I think you're ready for it. Okay?"

That was almost as good as a promise, to Zoey! She hugged Peter, tail wagging like a blur, and promised to be as good as a doggy could be, for an entire year, so she could have her very own puppies.

Several more heat cycles passed, since then. She started to get used to the pattern, spending days straight lounging, panting, licking herself to cool the fires of her loins, lost in a strange sort of ecstacy that she just couldn't quite understand. The bleeding that followed was always a little scary, but she remembered Peter telling her it was normal... and as long as he was there to wash her fur and tell her that it was okay, she could believe him. It really was okay.

It's been a little over a year since her first heat. As soon as she felt the tender swelling of her vulva and that delicious sensitivity and wonderful warmth that she'd come to love... well, the very FIRST thing she did is quietly curl up, and patiently lick herself to yet another mind-blowing orgasm, till her tiny body shook, and she couldn't help but whine as she came against her own muzzle, as she's gotten fond of doing. She was never really taught what sex is, exactly, and as long as she does this in private she doesn't get in trouble, so it had become the part of being in heat that she REALLY looks forward to. She can do it any time, but it just felt ten times better when nature was calling for it!

After giving herself a little temporary relief from her body's needs, the dog jumped onto Peter's bed, bouncing and flopping on it with not a scrap of clothing on her body, and the scent of her pussy still clinging to her furry lips. "Peter! Peter, wake up! Good morning good morning it's already eight o'clock why are you still asleep, Peter?!" she squealed, her words melding into a rapid-fire stream of consciousness in her excitement.

"Mmmmm... wh... what? It's Saturday! Zoey!" Peter scolded in a lengthy groan, covering his face with a pillow. "Why are you waking me up at eight o'clock on a Saturday?"

"I'm in heat again!" She barked, sitting on his chest and wagging her tail like she expected that answer to just explain everything.

"So what? Go.. lick yourself and let me sleep, or something."

"Peterrrr!" She shook his shoulders. "I've been good! I was good for... um, thirteen months, a week, and like.. a hundred days! I'm in heat again! You keep promising me puppies!"

"Okaaaaaaayyyy... Just let me sleep a few more hours, and I'll try to find a breeder...."

"Yay! Puppies! Thank you!" She squeaked, giving her owner a big hug before bouncing off the bed to let him sleep.

She could barely contain herself for the rest of the morning. She stared at the clock, watching minutes at a time tick by, before she'd run off to find something to do, something to keep her mind off of the waiting. But no matter what distractions she found, she'd return to find the clock had barely ticked off a few more minutes. She had Peter's clothes set out and folded and ready for him, she had picked out her own favorite shirt and skirt, set out her leash and her collar, tried to watch cartoons on the TV, and licked herself so much that the orgasms were starting to become weak and tiresome, all in a desperate effort to make time pass a little faster.

Zoey was so excited when Peter finally got up, only to experience the crushing disappointment when she found out that him being awake didn't mean they were heading out right away. He still had his morning coffee, watched the morning news, had a little breakfast, and then went to check his emails and forums online, same as every day, almost like he didn't even care that she was in heat. And all she could do was act like the dog she was, following him around, leaning against him, giving him those pathetic, pleading eyes in hopes that she would look sad enough to break his heart and get what she wanted.

Peter, however, had developed the amazing ability to utterly ignore her when he needed to, and no amount of her begging, whining, giving him the eyes, or coming over and putting tennis balls in his lap was able to make his eyes even flinch away from the computer screen. It was like he forgot about her entirely! At least until, what seemed like an eternity later, he looked back to her and pushed all the toys she had piled out of his lap.

"I found a reputable breeder in the area with a purebred stud, papers and shots and everything. So, yes, you can have puppies this year."

"Thankyouthankyou!" She squealed, throwing her arms around Peter in her elation. "I want it to be a girl like me. She should have a white mane and a brown face and black ears and a long tail and--"

"You can't exactly decide these things, Zoey!" He laughed, as he stood up.

"Why not? Aren't we going to go buy a puppy now?"

"You don't BUY a puppy, either. You're going to have to be bred."

"But I'm a doggy, not a loaf of bread!"

"No... It's... get in the car. I'll explain while we're on the road, okay? It's kind of a long drive to meet this guy."

Zoey was out in the car like a flash, already in the child seat and buckled in like a good girl, long before Peter got around to joining her. It was a long car ride, then, the little sheltie listening with perked ears and wide-eyed fascination as it was explained to her for the first time what was going to happen, that a boy dog was going to be putting something in her pussy. That just sounded amazing, given how much she liked it when her tongue was down there! The entire car ride, she couldn't contain her excitement, talking almost non-stop about everything going through her mind, and hugging her favorite squeaky plush toy.

When Peter pulled the car up into a dirt driveway in front of a tall farmhouse, everythign was suddenly quiet. Now they were here, and Zoey could only gulp, sniffing the air and listening. Now they were here... It seemed like it would be forever, but it wasn't, and now she's going to meet a boy sheltie for the first time. Not for a dog show or playing fetch at a park, but to make a puppy, something she's never done before. Nerves froze the little showdog in her seat, her arms tightening around her toy, and her ears wilted flat against her head as she refused to unbuckle herself. Somehow, excitement had turned into anxiety in a matter of moments.