Bearing It
by Jeff Rutkowski

The first thing he noticed about the beginnings of the change was the fact that he felt hot. Not just warm as if he had been wearing a jacket all day but as if he had spent the last few minutes in a steam room. He got up from his chair and tried walking around a bit to see if the feeling would either go away on its own or if he had to turn on the shower for a quick, icy soak.
After about thirty minutes of pacing around the room, he noticed a slight numbing sensation on the bottoms of his feet and a strange feeling of something growing from the tops. His balance started to falter and he sat down on the couch to see if he would feel better. He shifted his weight uncomfortably as a painful lump formed on his backside. Reaching down, thick fur greeted his fingers. He tugged at the tail growing there. A tail, he had a tail now.
His knees tightened up and popped as the joints reversed direction. He could see white fur swiftly growing from each leg and spreading over his bulging stomach as he watched in horror. He turned around on the couch so that his back was against one of the armrests and draped his growing legs over the opposite arm of the couch.
From what he could see, his feet had broadened until they were about twelve inches in diameter and were covered with a thick coat of white fur. He lifted his leg up and inspected one of his new hind paws closely. It had sprouted claws that were at least five-inches long and downy white fur grew from the underside between the rough calloused pads.
He held his leg in place with his arm and reached his still human hand up to see if the change was tactile as well as visual. His fingers felt the fine fur and warm rough skin on his paw. Each pad registered the pressure as he rubbed them in turn and as he twisted one of his sharp claws between thumb and forefinger, he felt that to. It wasn't just a visual thing after all.
His torso began to swell and more thick fur sprouted as he watched. His ballooning belly made it difficult for him to keep holding his leg up so he carefully lowered it back over the arm of the couch. The tingling seemed to intensify between his legs and he leaned back against the armrest as he felt the fur on his belly tickling his enlarging nether region.
It seemed the top half of his body remained unchanged for now. The relief was short-lived as his shoulders broadened, his arms lengthened and his hands started to grow. He brought them within his field of view, seeing large claws sprout from his shrinking fingers as more white fur sprouted from the backs of his new forepaws. His throat tightened for a brief moment as the change traveled upward to encompass his head.
Is this real, he thought bringing one of his large forepaws up to his face for a closer look. It had become nearly the same size as his hind paw, with fine white fur between the rough pads on the underside and five-inch claws. He brought it closer and winced with surprise as the sand-paper skin scraped against his sensitive nose.
His field of view widened and he lowered his arm, resting his forepaw on his stomach as he felt his jaws lengthen. Sharp fangs grew where his teeth once were and he nearly bit his tongue in half as he opened and closed his mouth experimentally. The scents of the room intensified as he felt his nose move to the end of his now fully developed snout.
He carefully flicked his large pink tongue in and out of his mouth, feeling his fangs and, bending it upward, he found he could actually lick the end of his snout. Hmm, he thought as he felt the wet skin of his tongue touching his nose and took a whiff of his peculiar new bear breath as he exhaled.
A tickling near the top of his head signaled to him that his ears were changing and he braught his paws to the sides of his head feeling floppy ears growing from the place where his human ears once were. At last, the tingling stopped.
The couch, perfectly made for a human, was far too small to accommodate a fully grown bear. The armrest on which he was leaning gave way and he tumbled off the couch, landing with a muffled thud on the carpeted floor of his apartment. Standing up wasn't a problem but he had to go on all fours since he now had a much higher center of gravity. He sat down heavily, being careful not to sprain his tail.
This has to be a dream, he thought, bringing one of those clearly fake paws of his up to his new muzzle and opening his jaws wide. *Crunch* He sank in his fangs and roared in pain. As he bit down, fur tickled the roof of his mouth and his tongue felt the downy fur and rough pads on the underside of his paw. Even though his calloused paws weren't as sensitive as human hands, they still felt the pain of the bite. He could see the shallow marks that his fangs had left and bright red blood was beginning to ooze from them leaving spots on the perfect white fur. It sure didn't feel like a dream to him anymore, he realized as he spat a small clump of fur onto the carpet.
He stood up and spent the next hour padding back and forth, keeping his throbbing forepaw off the floor as much as possible. What to do next? He couldn't continue living his life as a polar bear. Almost no one had accepted him even when he was human. No one in there right mind would believe that he had turned into an animal over the course of five to ten minutes.
The next thing he worried about was the fact that he probably couldn't even squeeze his bulk through the door that looked too tiny for him to fit through. Besides, his hands, uh, paws were too bulky to manipulate the locking mechanism, never mind relock the door behind him with the tiny key.
How would he eat? He stood up shakily on his hind legs and leaned his furred stomach against the counter for balance. His head hit the ceiling, leaving a huge dent that he knew would lose him the damage deposit he had put down when he paid his first month's rent. He reached up and easily placed his paws on top of the cupboard. That was a neat trick but how could he prepare his meals?
His claws could open the cabinets, the refrigerator, and the oven but they were too clumsy to grasp utensils, use the can opener, or open boxes like his previously human hands could. He required far more dexterity than he possessed to do something simple like make his morning cup of coffee. Besides, he was nearly nine feet tall. Life in a human dwelling would no longer suit him.
He growled with frustration, turned around, and sank to all fours on the kitchen floor. Tomorrow is another day, he thought and curled up on his side to try to get some sleep.

He awoke to the ear-splitting sound of his clock chime. His hearing had improved a great deal and not only that, the scents of the room were much stronger. He lifted his furry head and sniffed.
He could smell his old scent perfectly as well as the scents of coffee, last night's dinner and the smells from the hallway. It was time to leave. The rent couldn't be paid, his lease couldn't be renewed and he found he couldn't tolerate the boiling sauna his apartment had become. If he couldn't speak, calling anyone on the phone wouldn't be possible either. Just in case last night was a fluke, he tried to speak again. A low growl emerged from his throat. He tried again, opening and closing his jaws and moving his tongue over his fangs. All he could manage was a gutteral roar.
He lifted his un-bitten paw, hooked his claws into the handle, and pulled his apartment door open. He stuck his head and shoulders through the door to find the dim hallway empty for now. The rest of his bulk followed with some difficulty but he finally managed to squeeze through into the narrow hall beyond.
I'm not out yet, he thought, padding as silently as he could down the carpeted hall to the elevator. He pushed the call button with his nose and waited for the familiar *whoosh* of the car to arrive on the third floor. He climbed in, turning himself sideways to reach the panel of buttons and nosed the button on the very bottom of the column. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him the elevator was on its way to the lobby where he could squeeze himself through the automatic doors and outside to freedom.
The doors opened onto the empty lobby. He was nearly there. Turning left, he padded through the automatic doors and out into the parking lot.
The frigid outside air felt like a blessing as it cooled his skin and the snow-covered cement was heaven on the bottoms of his calloused paws as he trotted across the parking lot toward the empty street. Where to go now? Although the Minnesota climate did meet his needs, he knew it wouldn't last forever. Summer would arrive and would bring much warmer temperatures and mosquitos. He'd have to find somewhere cold year-round and with plenty of food.
Food? He couldn't stick to his human diet. Winter didn't allow for the growing of fruits or vegetables and he didn't think he could tolerate one more minute indoors. Seventy degrees Fahrenheit felt great when he was human but as a polar bear, it was absolutely stifling.
His heightened sense of smell caught a whiff of something being carried on the faint breeze. He lifted his head and flaired his nostrils, taking a deep sniff. A building with a sign depicting a pair of golden arches painted above the company's name on it came into view. He followed the smell around the building where he found a closed metal dumpster. He stood on his hind legs and placed his paws against the end of the dumpster and lifted the top up with his snout.
His mouth began to water as he took in the meaty scent of burgers, greasy fries, a milky sent he guessed was ice cream from leftover shakes, and the cloyingly sweet smell of soft drinks. He had to be quick with his scavenger hunt because he knew the sanitation crew would stop by soon to empty the dumpster.
How to get in? That problem was easily solved. His new hind legs made it much easier to jump, causing him to do a summersault and land on his back amongst the previous day's refuse. It wasn't the tastiest thing he had eaten but when he'd had his fill, he wiggled out of the dumpster and nearly did a face plant as he landed on the cool ground below. That was better, he thought. His appetite was gone but now he ran into another problem. He had to find something to drink.
He picked his way over the spilled garbage, out of the parking lot and down an empty street toward a lake he remembered swimming in as a child. I'd better be careful, he thought as he approached the frozen lake.
The temperature had been in the negatives for quite some time and he knew that the subzero temperatures meant that the lake had at least a foot of ice over the top. That wasn't a problem, he thought as he trotted to the middle where he could see a wooden ice fishing house. He knew that in order for someone to ice fish, an auger was used to bore holes through the thick ice, allowing the line to be cast into the water below.
Here was a thought that hadn't occurred to him until now. Polar bears were well-suited to the present conditions and had the upper body strength to pound holes in ice without the need for tools. He decided to find out if he could do the same thing. He reared up on his hind legs and brought his paws down on the ice with all his strength. A few cracks appeared. He tried again. *Splash* The ice gave way and the upper half of his body fell through the hole he had made.
He was more shocked at the suddenness the ice had given way instead of the cold water he shook from himself. It felt like taking a dip in a swimming pool more than anything else. He took a moment to gaze through the hole and see if he could find any native fish that could be caught.
No luck yet. The water was calm and the mirrored surface reflected the face of a bear looking back at him. Blue eyes stared out from either side of his furry muzzle and a pair of large ears nearly covered them if he worked his mussels right. He carefully lay down on his nearly full belly, hooked his claws onto the edge of the hole he had made and  began thirstily drinking.
Satisfied, he continued on his journey north. As he walked, he noticed that his paw no longer hurt from when he had bitten it the day before. Quick healing was the first explanation he came up with.
What would he do for shelter? The deep snow might allow him to dig a hole to sleep in for the night. He walked a little further until he found a large snow drift and began to dig, chomping mouthfuls of snow and letting them melt in his mouth for a little extra moisture.
His large paws and scoop-shaped claws made easy work of the soft snow and soon he had a hole large enough to stick his bulk into. It actually felt quite warm and he laid down with his head on his paws and drifted off to sleep, thinking about what he would do the next day.