"Yes, Sharon, I see that you've become a Rottweiler, and I'm happy for you, really I am. I know it's been your dream for a while, and good on you for finally getting it done. Your fur looks great, and your second pair of tits are, y'know...cuppable, I guess. I know company policy allows employees to dress appropriately to their form, which in your case is nothing at all, and you're obviously enjoying it.
You're cute, but like I told you before, I have a girlfriend. And now you're dripping all over the carpet in my cubicle, this place is gonna smell like you until the custodians can get in here. Maybe that's your goal...in any case, if it keeps happening I'm going to have to talk to HR. Or buy a dog whistle..."