His eyes weren't seeing every color, but he could figure out most things by shade. As he wandered through alleys in the dark, his eyes sought anything familiar from the lower position than he usually saw these same landmarks. Luckily he hadn't been far from home when the change hit him, but it had hit so fast he hadn't been able to put on the collar he slipped into his pants every time he left home. Not that it had a number on it, but it did have his name and address on it. Well, not his true name but a harmless sounding canine name: Fluffy. Finally he saw his building, the apartment he chose because it wouldn't say anything about a dog in the building his size. Unfortunately the front door was closed and, given the late (or rather, early) hour, he didn't think anyone would be around to take pity on his predicament. It would be rude to bark or howl until someone came to the door, so he merely whimpered and curled up by the door, his tail over his nose. There was only a few hours until the first people left for work in the morning, and most of the early commuters recognized him at this point. He'd have to replace his clothes he tore tonight. Not that he didn't have others, but that style of jeans was one of his favorites and that pair had been his last. Another whimper escaped and he shivered a little. His coat would need replaced too, despite not having been ruined. Someone had likely already snatched it up and run off with it. It was late in the winter season, but it was still very cold.