A lot of people face a difficult choice when they first walk into our clinic. The myriad number of possible gene splices often overloads them a little. I'm usually there with them, reassuring them about the procedures used, how it was all ultimately reversible if they changed their minds. That fact usually calmed them down a little.

It was a bit like trying to choose your career path in life whilst still in high school. You felt that one wrong move would send you on an irreversible spiral out of control. Gene-splicing wasn't like that at all. It was all perfectly safe, and rather fun, if I was perfectly honest.

I myself had been working at London's main GeneSis clinic for almost six years now. In that time, I had undergone exactly nine gene-splice procedures with not a single problem to show for it. The company loved employees who were essentially walking advertisements for their service, so I even got hefty discounts on the operations.

At first, I had gone for a relatively simple splice with some avian DNA. My resultant blue plumage was gloriously warm and beautiful to behold, but it made washing myself rather difficult. So, after five months of feathers all over the sofa and nearly fainting on a hot day, I went back to the drawing board.

My next splice lasted a little longer, a good old wolf transformation. This time, I kept the effects narrowed down to only affect my ears, teeth and the growth of a bushy tail from the base of my spine. I rather enjoyed the feel of the tail and twitching ears, but my inch-long fangs kind of freaked my boyfriend out when we kissed, so in the end, I ditched the wolf DNA as well.

In retrospect, choosing tiger DNA next probably wasn't the best idea. I had thought that restricting myself to the short stripy fur and tail would solve the boyfriend problem, but it just raised the alternate one of how to sleep in what felt like a coat made of brush bristles. I don't even know how real tigers sleep in that stuff, but I certainly couldn't, and so it was barely a month before I was back in the clinic.

Fish scales replaced the fur, giving my skin a cool shimmery effect. I also went in for the gills on the sides of my neck, as well as a collapsible dorsal fin on my back. It was good for when we went on holidays to Hawaii, where I could stay underwater longer than any scuba diver. However, back home, the scales were a rather useless fad. I wanted something that I could use all the time, not just whenever I happened to be in the bath.

Quite how I arrived at the idea of going with chameleon DNA next is still a mystery. It was more of a novelty than anything else; I couldn't control the colours exactly, as I had hoped. Rather, they changed involuntarily according to my emotions. That was the only time in my life I've actually literally gone green with envy.

Kangaroo, snake, and frog splices followed one after another in the months afterwards. My boyfriend was generally the gauge for whether I had gone overboard. He handled the pouch on my stomach well enough (I kept food in it at one stage), but I think the snake eyes really bothered him and the frog tongue was probably just annoying. Still, he bore up under the pressure of having a girlfriend who kept changing her species every few months surprisingly well.

My most recent splice, a basic cat DNA splice, is the one that's lasted the longest. It's merely pointed ears, soft short fur with a stripy pattern, and a long stripy tail. My teeth are pointed now, but the eyes and face I left alone, and for once, my boyfriend seems okay with it. That might be because he paid our clinic a visit last month.

He's now part dog, somewhat appropriately. We now both have tails, fur and pointed teeth, but I think it looks good on us. Even though we're technically different species now, our love is stronger than ever.