Once Cat Ears Please

J. Paschmann

Billionaire wife wants to become a cat.

Frank

Welcome to our island resort!

Did you have a pleasant flight?

Yes, it is a bit tiring to come here. But I will explain everything to you, which is why we are practicing on the island now.

Oh, yes, that was just one of our customers. It's perfectly normal for them to walk around here naked.

We don't call them patients either, because they are not sick. But, to answer your question, there are currently 42 living here. They come from almost every country in the world, although most are from the USA. Japanese women follow in second place.

Oh, men also undergo such changes, but they are still clearly in the minority. However, none currently live here.

Of course, you may speak freely with everyone, only I ask that you respect privacy. Most do not want to be dragged into the public. Therefore only without picture recording and naming.

To compensate, I have arranged for you to have an official interview with the key players. Sofie and David are currently here.

Katja lives with me on the island all year round. She manages our small settlement and will also answer all your questions.

That's right, we do an astonishing number of operations. Obviously, significantly more people have the desire to change than is commonly believed. On average, we operate once a week. Depending on the extent of the modifications, the subsequent rehab lasts between 2 and 6 months, most of which is spent here on the island. Three teams are available for the operations, which are then flown in accordingly.

But for now, come on in!

* * *

Well, where do I start?

The whole thing started on an early Thursday afternoon. At that time, Sofie had an appointment for an initial consultation. I didn't have the faintest clue what she wanted from me, because I would have rejected that outright when I asked for an appointment. But so she simply took me by surprise.

* * *

By that time, I was no longer an ordinary plastic surgeon. With the new technique of regrowing limbs from my own stem cells, I was a pioneer in this field. Within a very short time I had my own clinic and patients were beating down my doors.

I greeted my new patient already at the door to my consulting room by walking up to her and smilingly shaking her hand.

"Good afternoon Sofie, please take a seat."

It was important to me to remove any bias from my patients. It often took an enormous amount of suffering before they could bring themselves to see a plastic surgeon. That's why I didn't let them sit in the anteroom for long, but made sure they came in right on time for their appointment.

I had long since pre-selected my future patients before they even received an appointment for an initial consultation. And only the most important cases were still under my personal care.

Sofie was undoubtedly one of them and at the same time an exception.

"Doctor Stein, I'm glad you can spare time for me!" she nodded at me. Her handshake was firm, but betrayed a trace of uncertainty to me. By now I could rely quite well on this intuition, which I got from a look in the eyes and a handshake.

Her discreetly made-up green eyes, gave a feline impression. Green was a very rare eye color, so I looked into her eyes two seconds longer than I usually did. But it seemed to be her natural eye color. At least they were not contact lenses, as far as I could tell.

As the wife of a billionaire, she was a solvent customer who was also in the media spotlight. A possible advertising effect was never to be underestimated, despite the currently good occupancy rate of my young clinic.

Curiously, I looked at her as she stepped past me and she sat down on the comfortable armchair. After her mysterious request, after an initial conversation with me personally, I had first googled her. She was to be found on many pictures in the net, partly also quite freely dressed. She was a former model, in her mid-20s, and looked fantastic. If it were a matter of an ordinary beauty correction, I would certainly not have been her choice. There were numerous other colleagues who did excellent work. Therefore, I had not the slightest idea what could lead her to me.

I closed the door to the anteroom and went to my armchair behind the desk, where I immediately took a seat.

"Well, Sofie, what can I help you with?"

She held her purse on her lap in front of her, which was clearly protective and defensive. She was preparing herself for rejection, which made me even more curious. Sofie had to have what she thought was a truly extraordinary desire. But I doubted that she could really surprise me. Anyone who had 10 years of practical experience in cosmetic surgery could hardly be surprised by a wish. Therefore, I kindly followed up with, "Go ahead, believe me, there is practically nothing I haven't heard of or even seen for myself that has to do with human bodies and their changes!"

"Our conversation remains confidential, right? I mean, even if you can't, uh, or don't want to perform the procedure?" she made sure.

"Absolutely! I am subject to medical confidentiality, even now."

She took a deep breath, as if before a jump, and in a way it was.

"I want to become a cat!"

Surprised, I looked at her. This was a more unusual request, but not as unusual as many might think. Many people had modifications made to their bodies to obtain characteristics of an animal. This started with simple tattoos and ended with complicated surgeries. No, this was not really unusual.

But she had come to me, so there had to be more to it than a simple body modification. I decided to let her finish, just slightly tilted my head, nodded and asked her to continue.

"Tell me more, please!"

Visibly relieved not to be immediately met with rejection, she continued.

"I love cats. Ever since I was very little. And I was always envious of their abilities to express their moods and feelings with their ears and their tails. My husband also loves cats. We even have a tame cheetah at our house."

She took a breath and sat back, a little more relaxed, before continuing.

"Of course, I know that some people have artificial cat ears or tails sewn onto their bodies. Even that they are functional, thanks to microelectronics. But they are technical foreign bodies. They are simply not real! I want real cat ears, with real hair that I can move, that I can hear with, and that also look cute. I also want a real, hairy tail that I can fully move, and that expresses my mood. These cyborg bodymods can't do all that. That's why I never considered them."

I still remained silent, letting her continue to speak. She herself should give me the arguments for my rejection.

"Then, a few years ago, I read about your new technique for regrowing entire body parts. And immediately I knew: only you can fulfill my most ardent wish to turn into a real cat!"

She looked at me expectantly.

I do not judge the wishes of my patients. At least I try not to. Every person is different. Everyone ticks a little differently. Some are clearly disturbed and need psychological help, but this was probably not one of those cases. She had developed an obsession and apparently had the financial means to make it a reality. If I just said no now, she would take a different path, possibly a riskier path. There were many bunglers who would accept her money without hesitation and then deliver something that was far removed from her ideas and wishes.

I was a pioneer of this new technique, but by no means the only one practicing it. There were now many like me all over the world. It was lucrative. Therefore, I saw it as my duty to point out the problems and dangers to my patients in case of inappropriate ideas, especially if I could not perform the procedure myself.

She had to realize herself that her idea was not as good in reality as it was in her imagination.

"Well, Sofie," I began cautiously, "this is a very drastic procedure that not only needs to be well thought out, but, as you imagine it, is not even possible by me."

Her hope vanished from her gaze, and she pinched her mouth shut.

"I would like to try to explain it to you as simply as possible. I can use human stem cells to regrow lost body parts and operate on people. But this only works if the conditions are right. If someone has lost his arm in an accident, for example, I can grow it in the laboratory and transplant it. But we humans have neither tails nor cat ears. I cannot restore anything that is not present in the genes! And even if it were possible, the ears, for example, would be only external. I cannot move the auditory canals. Either you would have cat ears on the side of the head, with function, or they would be further up, but then without function. As for the tail: your brain has no area to control that. I wouldn't even know how to connect the nerves. Therefore, I'm sorry to disappoint you: This procedure is not feasible!"

Surprisingly, I did see hope rising in her again.

"Doctor Stein, I was already aware of all this before I came here."

"Then I don't understand ...", I tried to interrupt her, confused, but she just waved it off impatiently.

"You're not the first professional I've checked with about this, if it had only been theoretical so far, never a specific request to do something like this on me."

At the word demand, I folded my arms and leaned back in my chair. She was obviously a woman who would not take no for an answer. With me, however, she would have to.

"A leading geneticist succeeded two years ago in reactivating the dormant genes in us. Genes from a time when we humans were still animals!"

I knew the publication about it, but had not paid any further attention to it. It was too far away from my field. I had enough to do with reconstructions.

"These were experiments on primates, not humans. The human cells he reactivated didn't live long enough to show a clear result. He couldn't continue the research, partly because such experiments on humans are strictly forbidden."

"Oh, nonsense! I have here in my pocket a clear legal opinion that reactivating human genes is not a violation of the law. It does not fall under the Chimeras Act of 2024."

"Very well, then, in purely theoretical terms, of course, you could grow human tails from the stem cells you have. But what you want goes far beyond that. Do you have the slightest idea how much further research would be necessary for this, and what the costs would be?"

"About $150 million!" it came, as if shot from a gun.

Stunned, I opened my mouth, but closed it again. I didn't know what to say now.

Finally, I shook my head, opened my arms, bent over to the desk and placed my forearms, palms down, on it.

"Look, Sofie, I have no idea where you get that number. I don't really care either. But it absolutely doesn't change the fact that I can't do this operation!"

"But you would if you could?"

Genuine curiosity spoke from her question.

For the first time since she had expressed her desire, I began to think seriously about it.

Would I want it?

If it was indeed not punishable and all necessary research results were available?

I nodded slowly.

"I would at least think about doing something like that. But you also have to understand: Before I would even consider such an intervention, you would have to present me with at least three psychological reports that you absolutely want this intervention, that you are mentally stable and also not prone to depression! But it all remains mere theory anyway. It is not feasible at the moment!"

Sofie reached into her purse and pulled out her smartphone. She pressed a little on it, then held the display out to me so that I could see what was on it.

It seemed to be a picture of a monkey. A chimpanzee or bonobo, so exactly I could not distinguish in the picture. What I was supposed to notice in the picture was not immediately clear to me. In fact, it took me a few seconds before it struck me. This chimpanzee had a tail!

"Well done, the picture, no doubt a fake!" were my first words as I leaned back again.

"No, not a fake. This is the result of 150 million, two years of research!" replied Sofie.

"Stem cells were taken from this bonobo, and a tail and ears were grown from them, along with nerve tracts as well, and blood vessels to be able to connect everything to the body. Then it was equipped in 11 complex operations in such a way. Of course, there were many failed attempts before, as you can imagine. But now the technology is so far matured. However, for the next step, the appropriate modification of a person, we need the best plastic neurosurgeon in the world. And that is currently you, Dr. Stein!"

* * *

Sofie had taken me completely by surprise. She had not contacted me directly in order to undergo cosmetic surgery in the near future. No, she simply wanted to recruit me for her research team. However, due to the form of a doctor-patient conversation, it was made impossible for me to talk about it to outsiders.

Presumably, this was how she had managed to keep the whole project a secret, because there hadn't even been any rumors about it in the scientific community.

Under her direction, a research clinic with 30 specialists had been established in the last two years, who researched exactly the problem I had summarized for her. And they had obviously solved the problems.

But only in bonobos. And although bonobos are 98.7% genetically identical to us, this small difference is enough to delay the final step, the transfer of these research results to the human body, for at least another three to five years.

But this is precisely where my own research came in. In this area, I was the undisputed specialist.

I admit it: Inwardly, I was deeply hurt that I had not yet received a scientific award for my groundbreaking work. Although my research had been of great benefit to numerous people, the honor had gone to a basic researcher who had never operated on or cured a single person. Only I had put his results into practice. But I had gone away empty-handed!

But now I should link these research results and take the first step to transfer the results to humans. The research in the field of archaeogenetics was so special that it could really hail research honors there, even if no Nobel Prize.

No, looking back, Sofie didn't have a hard time convincing me, although I still resisted at first.

We met several times over the next two weeks before she showed me her clinic. It was located, strictly shielded, on a small headland, on the coast of Nova Scotia and could be reached comfortably by small private airplanes.

The building was rather inconspicuous, she had a former barracks, rebuilt and modernized.

The remote location not only ensured that nothing that happened there got out, it also isolated the scientists in a sense. Like the Manhattan Project, but on a smaller scale.

And yes, Sofie had also tracked down military research funds.

The military has always been interested in how to improve people's performance. And if there was a way to improve strength, endurance and the like, the military was always there.

The actual goal of her research, however, up to this point, no one knew except her and her husband.

As you may know, you have done research on me, I was already divorced at that time. So, family-wise, I had no problems with suddenly withdrawing and plunging into new research.

My young clinic, on the other hand, still required my guidance. Therefore, it took almost four more months before I was fully involved in the project.

I don't want to bore you here with everyday scientific research, just this much: There was still a lot to do.

Well, and then we were finally ready.

Not Sofie, but another woman became patient number one. Her name was Katja, she was also a former model, in her early 30s and her Scottish ancestors had left her wonderful red hair.

She, too, was eager to become a cat lady. Sofie had met her in a corresponding Internet forum and finally convinced her to make herself available as a test person.

In addition to a lavish fee, she also received a contractual assurance that all subsequent medical costs resulting from a failed procedure would be covered.

I met Katja, before the surgery, only twice, I was too busy with the implementation.

She spoke to me again only shortly before the anesthesia.

"Ah, Doctor Stein! One cat's ear, please!"

* * *

We operated in two teams, almost a full two days. For this, we had called in neurospecialists who had to establish the nerve connections.

And then the waiting began to see how the results finally turned out.

It was not until four weeks later that we could be sure that the surgery had been a success.

Until Katja was ready to be shown to everyone, more weeks passed full of impatience.

Then, finally, there was a big celebration with everyone involved, centered around Katja.

Due to the lack of an auditorium, the celebration took place in the refectory of the clinic. Almost all participants, scientists, doctors and of course the donors were present, so it was very crowded.

We all waited anxiously with our champagne glasses in hand for the door to open. At last there was a flourish, a spotlight was aimed at the door, and Sofie stepped in, dressed in a tamer costume like those used in the circus 50 years ago. And following on a leash was Katja, almost completely naked, dressed only in fur bikini panties, proudly walking on all fours.

Sofie led her to a small pedestal and actually held up a plastic hoop, through which Katja hopped onto the pedestal to crouch there and remain on all fours. Slowly, the platform began to rotate.

A murmur went through the room and then a storm of applause broke out.

I was patted on the shoulders, I had to shake numerous hands, and everyone who had not yet seen Katja approached to look at her up close.

Yes, we had done an excellent job.

We had had to shave her head bald for the surgery, slowly the hair was now growing back. However, it would still be months before her hair was as long as it was before the operation. But even with the stubble haircut Katja looked beautiful.

The, almost completely hairy, new ears sat a little higher, we had to adjust the auditory canals a little. Now Katja turned them nervously back and forth, something she had had to learn laboriously over the last two weeks.

We had also changed her nose. Only a little shortened, so that she now had a pretty snub nose. For her appearance, she had also painted the tip of her nose black.

We had dispensed with whiskers on the nose.

Her upper and lower arms had been lengthened by several centimeters months before the actual surgery, so it was much easier for her to walk on all fours, but of course she would continue to move primarily on two legs. We didn't want to turn her into an orangutan.

But the real sensation was her, about a meter twenty long tail.

According to her genetic heritage, it had red hair. It originated directly from her coccyx, where it had a direct connection to the spine and was also connected to the nerve tracts. We had actually had to grow new neural pathways, and then had connected them to her brain. It would be a very long time before she could move her tail with the playful ease of a born cat, but already she managed to twitch the tip nervously and lift the whole tail.

When she even lifted it completely, and put the top, like a stole, over her left shoulder, a new storm of applause broke out.

We had made it!

Sofie

When I look back, I have no regrets. I have not made a mistake. And you will find hundreds of thousands who will agree with me.