D'oh! thought Jamilla. I left the Chronivac in Christianna's garage! I'm even out of the range to control it mentally! Stupid!
I also need to pick up some cleaning supplies. Christianna was happily cleaning with a vacant expression on her face, just happy to serve her master, but at this rate the cavern would be reasonably clean in about a century.
Jamilla had discovered that he loved to fly. He soared on the winds back to Christian's garage to pick up the Chronivac and maybe some cleaning supplies, when he discovered a crowd of police, reporters and sightseers had gathered around the garage. Fortunately none of them were looking up at the moment. . .
Jamilla seized mental control of the Chronivac and flipped it to the "mass transformation" setting. Soon the crowd was replaced by a quiet herd of cattle, some still incongruously bedecked with fragments of clothing, munching away on the lawn. It was, Jamilla thought, a vast improvement.
This next part was going to be unpleasant, but the dragon gritted his teeth and turned himself back into the old Jamilla. Ransacking the house was going to be easier for a human than a dragon. Jamilla quickly found a laundry bag and filled it with cleaning supplies and human food for Christianna, then put the Chronivac on top. Stepping out of the house again, he immediately transformed himself back into his true, draconic self. and seized a cow in his clutches, killing it by breaking its neck, while holding the bag in his teeth. As he took off, he transformed a couple of the cows into bulls and put the remaining females in heat. Let them get used to their new destinies, and hopefully provide another generation of meals for him.