>*CLINK*

>*BANG*

>*THUNK*

>The sounds of some kind of commotion going on downstairs draws me out of a sleep induced stupor

>I rub my eyes and sit up, my tired body lethargically responding to my commands

>Shit, what could be going on downstairs?

>Burglars stealing our television?

>A hungry raccoon sneak into the house again?

>A vengeful spirit coming to haunt me for living on top of a sacred indian burial ground?

>Whatever the case it's nothing six rounds of .357 can't handle

>Except for that last one, maybe

>"Honey, did you hear something downstairs?" I ask my wife, her sense of hearing has always been sharper than mine

>Hearing no response I look to the other side of the bed to find it empty, the wrinkled sheets lit by a full moon shining in through a window

>Ah hell, what if she went downstairs to check it out and gets into a fight with a burglar?

>Or worse...

>Shit!

>I leap off the bed and snatch my revolver and flashlight from the nightstand, a surge of adrenaline purging any remaining sleepiness from my muscles

>I quietly open the bedroom door and begin slinking down the hall, the strange sounds of some unwanted guest downstairs still bouncing off the walls

>With my heart beating out of my chest I walk over to the staircase and slowly, quietly, hesitantly, begin walking down

>Step...after...step...after...step

>I'm about halfway down when

>*CREAK*

>A loose board gives away my position and the sounds coming from downstairs suddenly stop

>I pause for a few silent, terrifying seconds

>Do I stop?

>Wait for them to come to me?

>Run down and catch the intruder by surprise?

>Flee like a coward?

>Uhhhh...

>For some inexplicable reason my brain decides that bumrushing the intruder is 'clearly' the best option

>I rush down the remaining stairs and turn a corner towards the kitchen, my revolver and flashlight held out in front of me

>As soon as I face the kitchen I stop in shock

>Well, there's the source of the sounds

>A tall furry beast, easily seven feet tall and full of muscle, stares back at me from in front of an open fridge

>Her canine face is smothered in a dripping red substance

>Long gaunt fingers all end in ebony claws  

>Pointed ears flick and turn towards me as she cocks her head, curious

>I’m frozen in place as I look her in the eye, my mind totally locked up

>Apparently not liking my lack of response she bears her teeth and lets out a low throaty growl

>I finally overcome my indecision and…lower my gun

>As soon as the barrel is pointed at the ground she lets her lips fall back into place and whines pitifully

>I sigh in disappointment at myself, how could have I forgotten that tonight was a full moon?

>And just like every other full moon my wife undergoes a drastic transformation into her lupine form

>She grows claws, a tail, muzzle, the whole shebang

>Not to mention she goes from an aggressively average five foot eight and a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet into a muscle bound giant of a beast

>Yet the mental aspects of the transformation are arguably more severe

>While transformed she loses all higher functions and allows more base instincts to guide her

>Speech is out of the question, as is most complex thought

>Thankfully she retains some of her memory while transformed

>This includes things like who her loved ones are, how to open the fridge, and the knowledge that going outside while all big and furry is a VERY bad idea

>She whines again and I shine the flashlight at her

>”What is it honey?”

>Her ears flick back in shame and she brings a paw up

>It’s thoroughly wedged into a large jar of strawberry jelly

>Well, that explains the red stuff all over her face

>I set my revolver onto the island and walk towards her, eventually grabbing the jar and pulling it back with all my might

>It breaks free from her paw and I offer it back to her

>She snatches it back and sticks her muzzle right into it, long canine tongue greedily lapping at the bits of jelly at the bottom

>I chuckle and survey what she’s gotten into so far

>Two packs of bacon

>All the ground beef

>An empty carton of eggs lies on the floor, guess she ate them shell and all

>A few empty cans of soup covered in bite marks lie on the counter

>A box of cookies

>And an entire gallon of milk to wash it all down apparently

 >”You’re going to be sick in the morning you know, you can’t digest all this stuff before sunrise.” I sternly tell her

>She briefly stops lapping at the jelly to look at me, then goes right back to attacking the jelly

>Whatever, at least from the looks of things she didn’t touch the ice cream I got yesterday

>It’s my favorite flavor only sold in one specialty ice cream shop in the entire state

>Ya know, I should probably double check just to make sure she didn’t eat it

>I open the freezer door, shine my light in, and…it’s gone! No way!

>I frantically search the entire freezer to make sure it isn’t hiding behind something and nope, it’s not here at all

>Befuddled, I check all around the kitchen for the tell tale empty cartons yet they don’t appear to be here either

>In a moment of clarity it hits me

>I walk over to the trash can and peer in

>Sure enough there they are, all four cartons of my beloved ice cream licked clean

>She always did try to hide signs of her sugar tooth when she was in human form, guess this instinct carried over into her lupine form tonight

>Angered, I turn towards my wolfy wife to scold her

>But I just can’t

>She’s sitting on the floor with her head stuck in the jelly jar, her paws impotently trying to pull it off

>My petty anger quickly fades and I walk towards the stricken canine

>I grip the jar with both hands and pull it free from her head

>But instead of taking the jar back she peppers my face in slobbery, strawberry smelling kisses

>I laugh and hand her the jar back

>She goes right back to trying to lick it clean and I sit down behind her, my hands absentmindedly running through her fur

>I’ll have to get some more of that ice cream tomorrow

>But more importantly I’ll need to find a way to hide it from her before the next full moon hits

>That stuff’s expensive