‘Can’t be bothered with the hand and doorknob thing,’ said Aunty Paws.
‘And the giant sofas.’
‘Nothing like all of us snuggled up on the sofa together,’ said Buster.
‘And the…the smell…’
Aunty Paws beamed. ‘It’s lovely, isn’t it? You can tell the whole history of our pack by that smell.’
‘Um, yes,’ said Prunella faintly.
Uncle Flea bounded past them, still in his wolf shape. He growled at Prunella, then bounded up and licked Buster’s face. ‘What have you got those plastic bags around your bum for?’ he demanded, giving Buster’s cheek one last wet swipe.
‘Oh, these?’ Buster stripped them off, then stopped as Prunella quickly shut her eyes. ‘Oh, I forgot.’
Buster shut his eyes, nodded his head twice, then…
It was like a bounce that went inside out, with a shiver on the way. He could feel his tongue getting wetter, his nose getting drier, and the safe warmth of fur all over him, specially the bits that might embarrass Prunella…
And he was a wolf again.
The world was simpler and smellier and hopefully had a ball for him to catch somewhere soon…
Buster pulled his mind back to the matter at hand.
‘You see…’ he began, then added hurriedly, ‘no, Uncle Flea. No! Down!’
Uncle Flea looked round inquiringly. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Prunella doesn’t like her bum being sniffed!’ said Buster desperately. ‘I’m sorry,’ he added to Prunella, ‘Uncle Flea doesn’t meet many humans. He doesn’t turn human much either.’
‘Always feel too high when I’m up on two legs,’ said Uncle Flea frankly. ‘Can’t get used to a nose that doesn’t work either.’
‘Me too,’ agreed Aunty Flea. ‘I’ve never really got the hang of being human.’
‘Then that’s why you’re…’ Prunella halted. ‘Why what?’ demanded Buster.
‘Um, nothing.’ Prunella bit her lip.
Uncle Flea sniffed. ‘Doesn’t smell like nothing,’ he observed. ‘Smells like…something about you, Paws. Something she thinks is funny.’
‘No, not funny,’ said Prunella hurriedly. ‘Aunty Paws just looks…different…that’s all.’
‘What sort of different?’ insisted Buster.
‘Just the way she’s dressed,’ said Prunella awkwardly.
Aunty Paws blinked. ‘What’s wrong with wearing shorts and a ballet skirt and a tracksuit top?’
‘Nothing,’ Prunella assured her. ‘Just…maybe not all together!’
‘But they fit!’ objected Aunty Paws. ‘And they cover up all the bits!’
‘There’s a bit more to clothes than that,’ said Prunella tactfully.
‘Humans,’ sighed Aunty Paws. ‘No offence,’ she said to Prunella, ‘but humans always make things so difficult!’
‘Now, Wal,’ said Uncle Flea proudly. ‘He’s always been top dog at looking human. Why, he goes down to town once or twice a month! All dressed properly and in a car and everything.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Prunella slowly. ‘Uncle Wal. I was going to ask about him.’
‘Ask away!’ Aunty Paws crossed over to the fridge and began to get platters out for lunch. ‘Will rat casserole and cornflakes do you pups?’ she asked.
Buster saw Prunella’s face pale. ‘How about a sandwich?’ he suggested. ‘Er…peanut butter and beetroot?’
‘I hate peanut butter,’ admitted Prunella.
‘Do you?’ Aunty Paws beamed. ‘So do I! And there was Wal saying all humans love it! Well, we’ve got cheese, sliced corgi, lettuce. There’s some flies too, though they’ve slowed down a bit since I caught them yesterday. Must be the chocolate coating.’
‘Cheese and lettuce, please,’ said Prunella quickly.
‘Corgi and tomato, please,’ said Buster. ‘And a big bowl of milk. But in a glass for Prunella.’
Prunella gulped. ‘Thank you.’
Aunty Paws put Buster’s sandwich in his bowl by the back door, then passed Prunella’s to her on a plate.
‘Sure you wouldn’t like a nice bone for afters?’ she asked. ‘I’ve had them buried for a few weeks. They should taste perfect by now.’
Prunella’s face froze. ‘No, thank you,’ she said politely. ‘I’m not all that hungry. This will do me fine!’ She looked around the kitchen—at Buster lapping up his milk and Uncle Flea lying in old-dog-with-his-nose-pressed-to-his-bum position and Aunty Paws wrapping up the sliced corgi. ‘Look, there’s something I really, really have to say. I wouldn’t be doing my job as a detective if I didn’t!’
‘Yes, dear?’ Aunty Paws smiled at her brightly. Uncle Flea pricked up his ears.
‘It’s about Uncle Wal,’ said
Prunella slowly. ‘And Buster’s mum and dad. I mean, it all makes sense.’
Buster looked up from his corgi sandwich. ‘What does?’
‘Don’t you see?’ cried Prunella. ‘Who had something to gain by your parents’ disappearance? Uncle Wal! He’s leader of the pack now. Who is the one who hasn’t been able to find them, even though he’s been in charge? Uncle Wal. Who has a car—the only car on the mountain—that could have carried them away so there’d be no scent trail?’
‘Uncle Wal,’ said Buster slowly. ‘But that’s impossible!’
‘Your parents wouldn’t have got into a car with a stranger,’ said Prunella.
‘Not in wolf form,’ agreed Uncle Flea reluctantly.
‘So who would they trust?’
‘Uncle Wal. But…but he’d never hurt Mum and Dad!’ protested Buster desperately. ‘Except in a proper challenge fight,’ he added. ‘But Uncle Wal would never challenge Dad.’
‘The pup’s right,’ agreed Uncle Flea. ‘Wal just isn’t strong enough to beat Buster’s dad!’
‘How do you know Uncle Wal wouldn’t hurt them?’ demanded Prunella.
Buster hesitated. His sixth sense told him Uncle Wal would always be loyal to Mum and Dad. But it was hard to explain sixth-sense feelings.
‘I just do,’ he said lamely.
‘I know he’s your uncle,’ said Prunella more gently. ‘But don’t you see? It all fits together! Uncle Wal could have offered them a ride, then just driven them away!’
Uncle Flea shook his head. ‘But don’t you see, girl?’ he barked. ‘A werewolf can’t hide things from another werewolf! I smell Wal’s bum every day when he comes home. He doesn’t smell guilty.’
‘How does he smell then?’ asked Prunella.
‘He smells of talcum powder,’ said Buster quietly. ‘Ever since Mum and Dad disappeared, Uncle Wal smells of talcum powder. How can you tell what someone is thinking when all you can smell is talcum powder and aftershave?’
Prunella shook her head. ‘Uncle Wal has to be the kidnapper—I mean wolfnapper! He must have wanted to be pack leader for years, and wolfnapping Buster’s parents was the only way to do it! It’s the only thing that makes sense!’
CHAPTER 11
Searching for Uncle Wal
‘I still can’t believe it!’ said Buster sadly. Uncle Wal had bought him his first squeaky plastic rabbit! And taken him for his first ride in a car and let him chew the seat!
‘I reckon we have to follow him!’ said Prunella. ‘See what he does when he goes off in that car of his!’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ said Buster slowly. He tried to think. If they followed Uncle Wal and all he did was look for Mum and Dad that would show Prunella he wasn’t guilty. She’d see that all Uncle Wal was doing was…Buster hesitated. What was Uncle Wal doing down off the mountain every day?
‘He’ll smell us if we try to follow him,’ said Aunty Paws nervously. ‘Then he’ll snarl and raise his hackles…you just don’t understand what it’s like for a wolf when your pack leader is angry with you!’ she added.
‘And Uncle Wal is mostly angry these days. Don’t know what’s come over him!’ Uncle Flea put in, bending down to lick his…
‘Uncle Flea!’ hissed
Buster. ‘Not in front of Prunella! She doesn’t like it!’
‘But I’m just licking my…oh, alright,’ said Uncle Flea hurriedly. He shook his head. ‘Humans have funny ways sometimes. How are you supposed to clean yourself properly if…’
‘You can wear scent!’ said Prunella quickly. ‘Lots and lots of scent. No, I don’t mean to clean your…your whats-its! I mean so Uncle Wal doesn’t smell you! And he won’t recognise my smell anyway. Then if he’s acting suspiciously, we can confront him, and demand to know what he did with Buster’s parents.’
‘He won’t have Mum and Dad,’ insisted Buster loyally, trying to ignore the niggle in his brain.
‘That’s right!’ barked Uncle Flea.
Prunella shook her head. ‘You have to admit Uncle Wal is acting strangely!’ she said. ‘What’s he hiding? You have to find out!’
Uncle Flea scratched his neck with his hind leg. ‘Don’t know how we’d do that,’ he muttered, snapping at the flea he’d disturbed.
‘Can’t you track his car?’ asked Prunella.
‘Sure! You can, can’t you, Uncle Flea?’ cried Buster. ‘You’re the second-best tracker the pack has ever had! Dad said so!’
‘Well, I might be able to, even with all the other cars out there,’ admitted Uncle Flea. ‘That smell of talcum powder is pretty strong. The biggest thing that worries me is going down to town…’ Uncle Flea whined and put his head on his paws. ‘It’s been years since I went into town,’ he confessed. ‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks!’
‘Please!’ begged Buster. ‘Even if it’s just a chance that Uncle Wal knows what’s happened to Mum and Dad, we have to take it!’
Aunty Paws went over to Uncle Flea and bent down and licked his ear comfortingly. She looked back at Buster and Prunella. ‘We’ll do it,’ she said softly. ‘If this is what we have to do, we’ll do it.’
Half an hour later, the four of them were headed down the mountain and into town.
Uncle Flea had dug out an old dog cart, and Buster had harnessed him and Aunty Paws into it. He and
Prunella sat in the cart while Uncle Flea and Aunty Paws pulled it down the mountain, with Uncle Flea sniffing the road as they went.
Buster was in human shape now, and properly dressed too. Prunella had inspected his wardrobe, and tactfully suggested the best clothes to wear. She’d even made him put shoes on.
Shoes! thought Buster gloomily, as they bounced down the mountain road. He supposed he’d have to get used to shoes if they all had to move to town. He sighed. It still seemed impossible that Uncle Wal had wolfnapped Mum and Dad! But it was impossible they’d disappeared too. A sudden memory of Uncle Wal letting Buster chew his shoes flashed into his mind. Uncle Wal hadn’t even minded that he was still wearing them!
But Prunella was a detective. She knew about things like this! Buster gulped. If Uncle Wal was guilty they had to know.
The dog cart rattled through the forest, then along the narrow road between the paddocks. Aunty Paws held her tail high as she loped along the road, but Uncle Flea’s was kept low as he concentrated. Cars slowed down, their drivers staring at them as they
passed. Cows mooed at them, and kids pointed. But Uncle Flea kept his nose to the ground.
Soon they came to the outskirts of town. Uncle Flea halted suddenly at a crossroad, nearly jerking Buster and Prunella out of the dog cart. His nose sniffed this way and that. ‘Wal went that way!’ Uncle Flea panted. ‘That talcum powder stinks,’ he added. ‘Even a poodle could follow a trail like this!’
The cart lurched into the side street.
‘Hold on!’ Buster yelled to Prunella.
‘I am holding on!’ Prunella shouted back. But the cart went more slowly now, as Uncle Flea concentrated among the new scents of the town.
To the right…now to the left…now to the right again. Left, right, over a hill and round a bend, left, right, and left again…
‘We’d never have found the way without Uncle Flea’s nose,’ whispered Buster.
Prunella nodded. Her eyes were shining at the adventure. Buster gulped. It was all part of being a detective to her, he thought. But it was serious for him.
Would they find Mum and Dad? Could Uncle Wal really have wolfnapped them? Buster couldn’t help remembering all the times Uncle Wal had played catch with him, tossing the
dried cow pat into the air for him to grab. One of the advantages of human shape was being able to toss a cow pat! And all the times Uncle Wal had brought him home lovely, scrunchy, empty plastic milk bottles to play with…
The cart clattered on. They had passed right through the town now, keeping to the small roads and suburbs, and were coming out the other side. The houses here had larger gardens and one even had a paddock for a pony.
The road became narrower. The bitumen ended, gravel taking its place. And suddenly there
it was, parked under a tree at the side of the road—Uncle Wal’s car!
‘What’s he doing here!’ muttered Buster. He looked around. There was nothing to be seen except a cow munching grass on top of the hill, and a few trees rustling in the wind.
The dog cart halted. Buster leapt out and unharnessed Uncle Flea and Aunty Paws, while Prunella ran over to the empty car and peered in the window.
‘There’s no sign of anyone,’ she announced.
Uncle Flea shook the dust off his coat, widdled automatically on the wheels of the cart, then raced over and sniffed around the car.
‘He went that way!’ he announced, lifting his leg on the left-rear tyre. ‘Across the paddock and up the hill! And I smell…’ He sniffed again and frowned. ‘Dogs,’ he said, ‘lots and lots of dogs. And something else. Something strange…’
Buster sniffed too. Even in human form he could smell it as well. A thick dog scent in the afternoon air, but as well as that, a musty, sweet smell, like, like…
‘Canned dog food!’ cried Prunella.
Buster stared at her. ‘How do you know? You don’t have a wolf’s sense of smell!’
‘I can smell canned dog food!’ stated Prunella. ‘Nothing smells as strong as canned dog food! That’s one of the reasons Mum won’t have a dog, because dog food stinks so much.’
Buster shook his head. ‘Maybe Uncle Wal has called in somewhere to have a snack. Maybe this has nothing to do with Mum and Dad at all.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ snorted Prunella. ‘Why would he come all this way just for a snack?’
‘Exactly,’ said Uncle Flea grimly. ‘If Wal was hungry he could just knock over a rubbish bin or something. Much nicer than that dog food stuff. It smells as bad as clean sheets and soap bubbles! Disgusting! No, there’s something strange about this. Come on! The scent is coming from over the hill!’
Uncle Flea and Aunty Paws squeezed under the fence and bounded across the tufted grass. Buster
and Prunella ducked through the wires and raced after them.
This was dumb, thought Buster suddenly. Why was he still in human shape? He could go six times as fast on four legs!
Buster shut his eyes, nodded his head twice, then…
It was like a tummy rumble all through his body, with a nibbling feeling on the way. He could feel his feet growing furrier, his hands getting smaller, and his legs growing shorter but faster too…
And he was a wolf again.
The grass was closer and the dog food smell almost tasty.
‘Come on!’ he howled to Prunella. ‘And bring my clothes, too!’ he added.
‘What!’ Prunella glared at him. ‘Look, buster, you can carry your own blasted clothes!’
Buster ignored her. Prunella sighed, stuffed his clothes into her backpack, then dashed after him.
CHAPTER 12
The Factory
The building over the hill was two storeys high, with the sort of mirrored windows you couldn’t see into. It had a car park and a bitumen road leading up to it, a big sign out the front and giant rubbish bins out the back, that Buster longed to rummage in.
Uncle Flea and Aunty Paws had stopped, and were loping back to him. ‘Wal’s smell goes into that building!’ Uncle Flea panted. ‘And he’s Changed!’
‘Back into a wolf!’ Buster stared. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘Easier to sneak around as a wolf,’ said Uncle Flea.
‘Maybe that’s why he parked his car over the hill, instead of driving up the main road to the front gate,’ said Prunella slowly. ‘So he could Change into a wolf without anyone seeing him.’
She narrowed her eyes and read the distant sign. ‘Doggie Yums Pet-food Factory and Testing Laboratory,’ she read. ‘Of course! This is a place where they make dog food! That’s why the smell is so strong.’
Buster shook his head. ‘But why would Uncle Wal come here?’
‘Smells as bad as clean socks,’ said Uncle Flea disparagingly. ‘Even Wal wouldn’t want to eat here!’
‘I think I know,’ said Prunella grimly. ‘If they make dog food here they need dogs to test it on. I bet your dear Uncle Wal sold your parents to be lab dogs!’
Buster sat back in horror. ‘What! No! Not Uncle Wal! Uncle Wal wouldn’t do that!’
‘Not even to be pack leader?’ demanded Prunella. ‘Not even to try to make the pack turn human, instead of being wolves?’
‘No.’ Buster wrinkled his nose. Maybe it would make more sense to him if he were in human shape. But now the whole thing seemed dumb! Mum and Dad weren’t dogs—they were werewolves. They could Change back to human any time they liked! And if Uncle Wal had sold them, why had he come back here as a wolf?
‘I just don’t understand,’ he said aloud.
‘Me neither,’ panted Aunty Paws.
‘Nor me,’ barked Uncle Flea.
Prunella nodded. ‘Too many mysteries,’ she agreed. ‘There’s only one thing to do.’
‘What?’ demanded Buster.
Wonderfully Wacky Families Page 5
