Tim sighed, hung his head low, and slowly padded down the hall, away from Paul's mom.
I've got to find Paul, he thought. If I can somehow communicate with him and convince him that I'm really
me... well, maybe he can undo this horrible spell. Otherwise, thought Tim, I'll be trapped living the life of
a female, spayed dog for the rest of my days.
Tim padded, still on all fours, into Paul's bedroom. Fortunately, Paul was there, sitting on the bed reading
comic books.
“Paul,” said Tim. “Hey, Paul! C'mon, can you hear me?”
Without looking up from the comic book, Paul replied: “Quiet, girl.”
All he hears is dog barking, thought Tim. I'll have to try something else.
Tim looked around the floor of Paul's bedroom. This place was a pit! Dirty clothes, video games, comic books,
and old junk food wrappers cluttered the floor. But Tim did manage to spot Paul's book bag from school, laying
off in a corner of the room.
Desperate to try anything, Tim crawled over to the bag and unzipped it with his teeth. Still using his mouth
rather than his hands (now clumsy and only capable of the manual dexterity of a dog), Tim pulled out an old
notebook... and some pens and pencils.
“Leave that stuff alone girl!” snapped Paul, glancing down at the mess Tim was making.
Tim seized a pen with his mouth, clenched it tightly between his teeth, and tilted his head down towards the
notebook. He began furiously scribbling on the paper, hoping Paul was still watching.
“Hey!” snapped Paul again. “What the hell are you doing, Lady? God, what's wrong with you! You stupid dog,
leave my stuff alone, girl. What are you doing?”
Paul leaned over and looked at the paper Tim had been busying himself with.
What next?