[ WP ] You find a mysterious stone on your way home from work one day . As you pick it up , you are rendered unconscious . When you awaken , you discover that you now posses the ability to talk to animals . Excited , you rush home to talk to your beloved pet , only to find he/she absolutely despises you .

The unmistakable tickle of blades of grass brushed across my ears and neck. I opened my eyes. For some reason I was lying in the grass on my front lawn. I squinted up at the bright sky, then pulled my head up slightly off the ground. My legs were rolled over sideways in a half bent position and my arms were splayed out to either side. I must have looked like a cartoon character that just fell off a cliff. 
 
 Though I was mildly alarmed -- who would n't be if they'd just passed out -- I felt completely fine and pulled myself to my feet. I took a few cautious steps, felt steady, and resolved to make a note to see a doctor whenever I had some spare time. This had never happened before, and not one to be a hypochondriac, I decided worrying about it was n't going to help matters. 
 
 I made my way up the front steps, and as I fished around for the keys in my pocket my hand bumped up against a hard object. My fingers slid around the smooth surface and I pulled out a stone that I remembered picking up a few minutes earlier. The stone had seemed like an unusual find out here in the suburbs, with its shiny, smooth grayish-green exterior, and I figured I'd show it to a geologist buddy of mine at the university. I put it back in my pocket, grabbed the keys and unlocked the door. 
 
 `` Jackass is home!'' I heard someone shout out from inside the house. I stopped in the doorway. Either I was hearing things or a foul-mouthed elf had taken up residence in my home. I felt a few pangs of panic, but at the same time, I was fairly confident I could step on whatever intruder had uttered the unwelcome greeting. 
 
 I began to move toward the living room with some trepidation where I could clearly hear someone with a high-pitched voice muttering to themselves. 
 
 *'' You want some of this? How do you like that you little bitch? You like these claws of fury? `` * 
 
 I peered around the wall to catch a glimpse of whoever was there, but there was no one except my cat who was wrestling with his scratching post. 
 
 *'' Yeah you like that you little... let go of my damn claws you bitch ass scratching post,'' * I heard someone say, as my cat contorted in an effort to untangle his claws from the wiry column. 
 
 `` Ah, Sarge... is that you talking to the scratching post?'' I ventured, possibly to no one in particular. 
 
 My feline friend froze. His paws were still entangled but he turned his expressionless face toward me. 
 
 `` What are you looking at you flannel-assed oaf? Either help me get my paws out of this dollar general scratching post you bought or start filling my food bowl,'' Sarge said, apparently to me. 
 
 `` Sarge, am I losing my mind, or did you learn how to talk?'' I inquired. `` And who taught you to be such a dick?'' 
 
 Sarge finally seemed to acknowledge the remarkable change in circumstances and appeared to think over the implications. He freed his paws from his captor and began to walk over to me. 
 
 `` Gee, I'm sorry about that,'' Sarge began. `` This is really amazing when you think about it. Now we can communicate and finally have one of those real relationships, you know, like people have with dogs and stuff.'' 
 
 I paused for a second to consider his change of heart. He had a point. 
 
 `` Yeah, you're right'' I said, as Sarge began weaving in and around my legs. `` This is actually pretty incredible. I'm finally going to know what's on your mind and-'' 
 
 `` I was kidding you nitwit,'' said Sarge as he reared up on his hind legs and began attacking my shins. `` You like that, sissy boy?'' 
 
 `` Sarge, do I need to put you outside?'' I asked my increasingly disagreeable cat. `` What the hell's gotten into you?'' 
 
 `` Look pal, I'm going to take this opportunity I've got here to spell it out for you in plain English,'' Sarge began. `` You see that neighbor cat over there? That fatass is sitting on the window sill soaking up the sun all day, literally getting bigger every goddamn day because his owner gives him pieces of leftover steak and bacon and tuna sashimi. I swear I can actually see his waistline expanding!'' In his excitement he had first leapt onto the sofa and was now lecturing me from the coffee table. 
 
 `` And what do I get from you?'' Sarge continued. `` How many goddamn crumpled pieces of paper are you going to throw at me when I'm trying to get some beauty rest? And the food, the FOOD in this place! Dry little pebbles of chalky garbage probably made from sawdust swept off some shop floor! Oh but that's right, sometimes you let me lick the goddamn lid from the can of tuna. Are you trying to amputate my tongue?!'' He was really getting riled up now. 
 
 `` Hey Sarge, look, I'm sorry,'' I weakly responded. `` I did n't realize how much all of these things were bothering you. I'll get you some better toys, and some better food, too!'' 
 
 `` Ah, shove it, flannel boy,'' said Sarge. `` It's 4 o'clock. I got ta go lick my ass. And go fill up my food bowl, will ya?''
