For Newenglander. =) Original story posted here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/9314480/

There was another knock at the trailer door.

"Carrie, we have the shoot in five minutes! Hurry up already!"

"Just a minute!"

Nervously she adjusted the tie on her robe again. Pretending to be down with a case of Montezuma's Revenge had kept her fellow models from visiting her trailer, and the already overbooked makeup and wardrobe girl didn't complain when Carrie offered, through the closed door, to take care of her own look for the photoshoot this morning. The charade couldn't last much longer, though. A night's rest hadn't returned her human form, and worse, she couldn't seem to stop eating those lovely blueberry energy bars. The only way to get more would be to emerge from the trailer... and that meant showing off the changes to her body. 

Carrie thought she looked more like a walking, talking stuffed animal now than anything. Like something from some bizarre Disney film come to life. Her canine muzzle didn't seem to impede her ability to talk, at least. The bathing suit for the shoot still fit okay, though she had to fiddle with the back a little to account for her brand new tail. Pants seemed like a poor solution, given the new configuration of her legs, and shoes were right out. Her floppy sun had wouldn't stay on until she cut a pair of holes in the brim for her upright, pointed ears. Maybe between the robe and the hat, no one would notice...

*'Fat chance of that,'* she thought dourly. *'You're a big blue talking dog in a robe and sunhat, walking on its hind feet. They'll notice.'*

But it was that, or stay in her trailer until someone dragged her out, or she starved. Carrie sucked in a steadying breath.

"Two minutes, Carrie!"

"Be right there," she promised, and reached for the door handle with a white-furred paw.

They were staring. Let them. She ignored the crash as the photographer's assistant ran head first into one of the caterers, and just strode, head high, for the beachfront where the shoot was planned. The robe came off as soon as she stepped onto the sand, revealing the trademark pink bikini beneath it, complete with company logo embroidered on the butt. They were classy like that. Her fellow models were gaping at her, mouths wide open with shock. Carrie just kept acting like nothing was wrong. No one had tried to stop her yet. She snagged a fresh blueberry bar from a basket on the catering table, tore it open and snapped off a bite.

The blue-furred canine spun in place and struck a pose with her treat. Even the photographer seemed frozen, uncertain of what to do next.

"C-carrie?" Beth gasped, her voice a ghost of a whisper against the crashing tropical surf.

"Well duh," Carrie said, swallowing her mouthful of blueberry bliss. "What are you waiting for? Let's do this!" Before she melted, if possible. Outside the air conditioned trailer, the equatorial sun seemed a lot hotter than it had before. Uncertain, but spurred on by her words, the other models, the photographer, and crew jolted back into motion. Carrie sighed and took her place. Maybe doing a shoot in Alaska wasn't such a bad idea after all...