“Don’t worry,” said Nat hastily, “it’s perfectly safe. And my dad is getting a special license for you, which means you can travel as soon as you’ve had your vaccinations.”

Woody still looked doubtful … and worried.

“I know.” Nat grinned. “It sounds almost too good to be true.”

“Maybe it is,” said Woody quietly. “I feel funny, like something bad is going to happen.”

Nat was alarmed. “What do you mean?”

Woody shrugged. “It’s something …” He shook his head impatiently. “I dunno, it’s beyond me. I can’t see it yet.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” said Nat hopefully. “You’ve said you sometimes get these feelings and they don’t always happen.”

Woody smiled, anxious not to spoil Nat’s joy at the thought of seeing his father again.

“Now, can you change back, please?” pleaded Nat.

“You want to see?” asked Woody.

Nat hesitated; he felt uncomfortable. As long as it wasn’t like the time at the carnival in the parking lot. That had looked horrible — painful, even. He nodded hesitantly.

“Here goes.” Woody closed his eyes and crouched low behind the sofa.

As Nat watched, the air surrounding Woody seemed to become visible; it shifted and rippled slightly as the change started. His body seemed to shorten, and his face became oddly elongated as his mouth and nose pushed out to form the wolfish snout. Shimmery white fur sprouted all over his body, and his long tail, fringed with gossamer fur, thrashed to and fro on the living room carpet as though it were a separate being. Then air seemed to drift away again from Woody’s body. The transformation had taken just seconds.

“That. Is. So. Cool!” breathed Nat, who could already hear Mick’s car pulling up the gravel driveway.

Woody chuffed, a slightly superior expression appearing on his face.

Nat could hear Apple’s voice outside the living room door. He glanced back at Woody, and what he saw made him do a double take.

Something about Woody wasn’t quite right: He had two sets of ears.

“What are you doing?” asked Apple incredulously. She stared in disbelief as she entered the living room. Her grandson and his dog were both sitting up straight as boards on the sofa, looking guilty. Strangely, they were both wearing Stetson cowboy hats.

“Those are our line-dancing hats!” stormed Apple, stomping across the room. Nat winced as Apple whipped the hats off and put them back on the shelf. He risked a peek at Woody. Nooo! There were still two sets of ears, one furry wolf set and another bald set, which gleamed pinkly human from the sides of his head. Incredibly, Apple hadn’t noticed … yet.

“Your granddad brought those hats all the way from Texas,” she said, annoyed. “I don’t want smelly dog fur all over them.”