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Poor old Freddy, what could he do? He had no choice but to let Pam wet his hair, shampoo him and put perfume on him. He kept up an incessant growl of threats throughout the whole ordeal. Next she sprayed him with pink liquid that made him cough and splutter. With an electric shaver, she cut away all the hair around his stomach and from the top half of his legs.
Pam stood back and beamed with pride at her work. The twins, who had been pulling faces at Freddy and sniggering throughout, now had tears of laughter dripping down their cheeks.
'One last thing and we're finished. Oh, isn't that a nice necklace for a doggie,' Pam commented when she saw the Moonstone. She hung a little medal next to it that read 'Dripsy-Wimpsy, Farfang Castle'.
'Yes, we gave it to him for his birthday,' Harriet replied and glared at her brother to make sure he didn't give them away.
Freddy felt sick with dread when at last Pam took off the muzzle.
'My, what a pwetty wittle doggie,' she exclaimed.
Freddy ran to the mirror and howled with horror. There in front of him stood the world's most ludicrouslooking poodle. He was bright pink and Pam's work with the shaver had left him with a pair of woolly shorts, a cropped vest and little fur socks. There he stood, a descendant of the proudest and fiercest werepack in the history of Wolfenkind. From Sir Rathbone to Flasheart and now to him! It was nothing less than a tragedy.
'I was supposed to be a hero!' he howled.
The twins shrieked with triumph at their greatest ever joke.
'Now who's the pink one, Wimpsy?' Harriet smiled at her glorious revenge. Freddy bared his tiny teeth and turned to face them.
Whoosh!
He threw himself at the Pukesome Twosome in a blur of pink fury. The twins cried out and ran towards the door. Freddy blocked their way, his snarl dripping with spit.
'I hope wittle Dripsy-Wimpsy wikes his new hair-style?' Pam said hopefully.
'Like it?' Freddy yapped in disbelief. 'I abso-totalutely hate it, you silly fruit fart.'
Fortunately for Pam, she couldn't understand his woofy words.
Meanwhile, Chariot was trying to sneak towards the door. Freddy spotted him, and skidded into his cousin's feet, knocking them from under him. As Chariot fell to the floor, Freddy jumped high and landed with a yelp of delight on his cousin's soft flabby tummy. Chariot gasped in shock. Freddy jumped up and down as if he were on a trampoline.
'Take that.' He landed again.
'And that!' He tried a somersault.
'Get him off me!' the boy wailed and turned over to crawl away. Freddy jumped onto his back and started pulling Chariot's underpants up from under his trousers.
'Ow, help! He's wedgiefying me!'
'A Major Melvin Wedgie,' Freddy agreed with laughter.
The strain on the material was too great and it tore away. Freddy fell to the ground, still holding a square of Chariot's underpants in his mouth. He spat it out with fiendish glee. The boy gasped with relief.
'Ha-ha-hardy-ha!' Freddy yelped in triumph.
'Dunderbrain dog,' squealed Harriet.
'Oh, dear!' Pam murmured in alarm. 'I have never, ever seen such a naughty doggie.'
'Oh no? Well, watch this, Pammy Wammy!' Freddy jumped onto the counter. There lay all Pam's instruments of torture: baskets of rollers, clips, brushes, scissors, bows, medals, shampoos, colour sprays and perfumes.
'Now then, Dripsy, down you get. Don't make Pammy angwy!' Pam sounded concerned.
'I'll sort him out,' Harriet cried, running for a mop she had spotted in the corner of the room. As she ran for it, Freddy, with little barks of delight, started kicking all Pam's baskets onto the floor. They fell with a terrible clatter.
'Take that, Pammy,' yelped Freddy. When poor Pam tried to pick him up, Freddy bared his teeth.
'Don't dare touch a werewolf, human,' he snarled and sent some of the pink spray and shampoo flying through the air.
'Ha-ha-hardy-ha!' he roared.
Then everything happened at once.
With a jangle of the bell the door opened. In walked Mrs Snythe-Bottom in a full-length red fur coat, carrying her blue poodle. As she entered, Harriet swung the mop with all her might.
Wham!
She whacked Freddy on the backside. Freddy and every remaining bottle of pink, blue and green poodle dye flew through the air. He sailed over Mrs Snythe-Bottom's head, out through the door and landed roughly on the footpath outside with a yelp of pain. The bottles of dye, however, tipped out all over the snooty customer and her poodle. Standing together in dripping pink, blue and green, they howled with fury. The Putrid Pair squealed like giggling pigs. Poor Pam looked around in despair at her wrecked parlour.
'Do come in, Mrs Snythe-Bottom,' she squeaked miserably. 'I am almost weady for wittle Fi-Fi's twim.'
Mrs Snythe-Bottom was not impressed. 'You'll pay for this, Pam. That's a promise.' The dripping woman pointed at Pam with long red talons.
Before the Putrid Pair could tear their eyes from the terrible scene, Freddy raced down the main street as fast as his pretty legs could take him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Batty
Freddy didn't stop running until Pammy's Poodle Parlour was way behind him. Eventually, he grew tired and began to trot nervously down the main street. People who passed him pointed and laughed out loud. He was the daftest looking dog anybody had ever seen.
'Haven't you ever seen a wolf before? Shake in your shoes!' he barked defiantly.
Nobody screamed, fainted or ran away for safety. They just continued laughing. So much for being scary, Freddy thought miserably as he passed the butcher's shop. He looked up at the rows of dripping meat. He was starving. There was nothing like the thought of food to take Freddy's mind off his disgrace. He hadn't had any breakfast and it was now eleven o'clock.
He pressed his little wet nose against the window.
'Yelp!' He jumped high into the air in shock.
Somebody had just sniffed his backside!
'Great stinking feet!' he woofed, turning round in a fury.
There stood a scruffy, hairy mongrel. Its long black-and-white hair fell down in strands over its big black eyes. If the dog hadn't just sniffed his backside, Freddy would have liked it immediately. It was exactly the kind of dog that he would have wanted as a pet. He almost smiled at the mongrel, but then he remembered the terrible situation he was in. It was bad enough that he was a poodle. If the Fang Council ever found out that he associated with other dogs too, it would only make his crimes worse. So instead, he shooed it away.
'Go home, boy, go on!' he ordered, pointing his ears in the other direction. He was not expecting the dumb animal to understand. Like all werefolk, he believed that dogs were mere animals and did not have the power of speech. The dog bared its teeth.
'I ain't no boy!' it replied crossly.
Freddy could hardly believe his ears. It sounded like a woof and a girl's voice at the same time.
'You can talk?' he yelped loudly. 'I don't believe it. Fantabulous!'
The other dog snarled in annoyance.
'If you can, why shouldn't I, smelly pink poodle? Be cheeky again and I'll bite your tail off. And that's a promise!' With a flick of her own long scraggy tail she trotted away down the main street.
'No, wait!' Freddy yipped, scampering to keep up with her. 'It wasn't me, I wasn't cheeky.' He didn't want the dog to run away, it was so exciting being able to talk to her.
'I just thought dogs like you were too stupid to talk,' he gasped breathlessly. The mongrel stopped abruptly and growled at him. Freddy looked at her sharp teeth and realised his mistake.
'I mean, I thought I could only talk to wolves.'
Now the mongrel stared at him in disbelief. She flicked her hair out of her eyes with a toss of her head.
'Wolves?' She narrowed her eyes and inspected Freddy. 'Wolves can't talk. They're just wild animals, ain't they? And anyway, what kind of dog would want to talk to one of them? Even if you tried, a wolf would finish off a smelly
little puke like you in one bite. Before you even opened your big trap.'
'Little puke?' Freddy was outraged. 'Well, that's where you're wrong, actually. Because I am a wolf! So there! Not just some common dog who sniffs backsides.' He stuck out his chest and paraded pompously in front of her.
'I am 100 per cent wolf!'
The hairy mongrel howled with laughter. Freddy caught his reflection in a shop window and sagged miserably. How could anyone believe he was a wolf underneath this curly pink disguise?
'You are a silly, pink, smelly little poodle and I don't like poodles,' the dog told him slowly and clearly. 'You are also a liar and I don't like liars and you don't have no manners.' She flicked her tail. 'So clear off out of my patch.'
'No manners?' Was a common mongrel really telling a Lupin how to behave? Freddy puffed up in outrage. He was descended from one of the oldest, noblest of werepacks.
'At least I don't sniff backsides,' he yipped.
'That's what I said, ain't it? No manners. Didn't your mother teach you nothing when you was a puppy? You always do the Hello Sniffing dance when you meet someone.'
'No way!' Freddy yipped, his ears drooping in dismay. How revolting! This was certainly not part of a werewolf's rituals. He had no intention of performing that dance. The mongrel looked at him with disgust and trotted away once again. Freddy tried to keep up.
'Clear off, stink-pup!' she called back.
'No, wait. It's because I'm ...' Freddy looked around desperately. Next to him was a travel agency with a revolving globe in the window.
'I'm from Australia,' he shouted, always willing to lie at a moment's notice. The mongrel stopped, her curiosity getting the better of her.
'Where's Australia?' she wanted to know.
'On the other side of the world.'
The mongrel looked doubtful. To her 'the world' meant Milford.
'Near the pooing field?' she asked. (She meant of course the public park.)
'No, far away on the other side of the ocean, where everybody is upside down.'
The mongrel started to rumble, thinking he was being cheeky again. Freddy thought desperately.
'Look here.' He ran to the shop window and pointed at the globe with his ear.
'See?' he barked. 'That ball is the world. We, I mean you, live on the top but I come from under there, down under. Australia.'
The dog looked at the globe suspiciously.
'Is that why you talk funny?' she yipped at last. 'You don't sound like no proper dog.'
'Yes.' Freddy laughed with relief. 'That's right, cobber. G'day mate, everybody loves good neighbours. And that's why I don't do Hello Sniffing. In Australia dogs shake paws like this.' He held out his paw. 'That means good manners there.'
'So what are you doing here then?'
'I was dog-napped because I'm so valuable. But thanks to my ingenious plan I managed to escape. I was just running away from them now. They tried to disguise me by dyeing me pink and putting perfume on me!'
'So that's why you smell so bad?' she nodded, trying to work out if she believed him.
Freddy might have been insulted, but he smelt bad even to himself.
The mongrel narrowed her eyes.
'If you're lying, I will bite your tail off,' she promised.
'Cross my heart I'm telling the truth. I never lie,' Freddy lied.
He held out his paw. After a moment the dog gave a small woofy laugh and held out her own paw.
'What's your name then, stink-pup?' she asked.
'Freddy,' he yipped. 'What's yours?'
'Batty. Did you live on the Wildside in Australia?'
'What's the Wildside?' Freddy asked.
Batty raised her hairy eyebrow. This dog was a stranger for sure – he didn't know anything!
'The Wildside is where I live. Running around on your own, looking after yourself. I don't need no human.' She flicked her head proudly.
Just then there was a sound of sirens approaching the main street.
'Shush!' Batty whispered, her ears standing high and searching for the noise. 'Police! Humans! We have to hide, quick.' She began to run at full speed down the road.
Freddy tried his best to keep up with her.
'But why are we running away? We haven't done anything wrong.'
'Wise up, stink-pup, we're on the Wildside. That's against the humans' law. They always try, but they can't never catch me!'
Batty disappeared down a narrow alley. Freddy followed, wondering what on earth his new friend was in trouble for. And then he realised. They were outlaws! Oh yes, he liked the sound of that. He was already feeling more like a hero again.
CHAPTER NINE
Operation Sausages
'In there, quick.' Batty pointed at a garden shed with her ear.
The two dogs streaked inside the open door and waited as the sound of the police sirens grew louder and louder. Freddy became a little less brave and a little more alarmed as the noise became deafening. Of course, it's easy to say you want to be an outlaw – until the police actually start chasing you. He sighed with relief when the sound faded and, at last, disappeared.
'They've gone!' laughed Batty, flopping onto the floor.
'But why are they chasing you?'
''Cos I steal sausages, from the red meat shop,' Batty replied proudly. 'I'm the best sausage thief in Milford.'
'Oh, that's brilliant!' Freddy cried, very impressed. Then he remembered that he always liked to win. 'Of course I was the best sausage thief in the whole of Australia, you know. And that's twenty million times the size of Milford.' He licked his paws modestly, as if this was a minor achievement.
Batty looked at him, unconvinced.
'What, you?' she scoffed. 'Don't you care that it's against the law?'
'Of course not,' Freddy shrugged. 'I'm not scared of the police, am I?'
'You seemed to be just now, all right. I never knew a poodle what wasn't scared of the police. I ain't never heard of no poodle sausage thief, either.'
'Well then, I'm not an ordinary poodle, am I?' Freddy yipped. The mention of sausages had made Freddy's stomach bubble. He hadn't eaten since before the High Howling the previous night. 'I love sausages. I can eat twelve in one go. I'd do anything for sausages.'
'Oh yeah? So what's your plan for breaking into the red meat shop then, stink-pup?' Batty laughed.
'I don't have one ... yet,' he admitted, feeling stupid.
'Hungry?' Batty asked sympathetically. He nodded miserably.
'Didn't your dog-napper feed you?'
Freddy shook his head even more miserably.
'Well, let's go and break some rules then,' she said. 'Or are you too much of a poodle?'
Freddy's ears perked up.
'No. I'm not scared of anything!' he yipped, but then began to get a bit worried. 'But... we won't get caught, will we? I mean, we will escape?'
'Don't worry, Stinky, we ain't going to get caught.' Despite his stories, this pup would never survive on his own on the Wildside, Batty thought. 'You'd better stick with me.'
The eyes and muzzles of the two dogs peeped out from behind a tree opposite the butcher's shop. Freddy's mouth watered at the sight of all those strings of sausages hanging in the shop window, but the door was closed.
'How do we get in?' he asked Batty. There was a door handle that looked impossible to open with his doggie paws.
'Easy,' she told him with a pitying smile. The sausage thieves were obviously not very bright in Australia if this poodle was the best of the bunch. 'It's getting out again what requires the skill.' She lay down behind the tree with her chin on her paws.
'What are we waiting for?'
'Shush,' she instructed.
Freddy huffed and thought he might sulk. He was, after all, a wolf! He should not be bossed around by a mongrel dog, even a brave and pretty one. Batty didn't notice his sulking; she was too busy watching all the humans walking down the main street. Her ears jumped when she saw what she wanted.
'Get up, St
inky,' she whispered. 'Here's our way in.' She pointed her nose at a mother walking with her son and daughter and pushing a pram towards the butcher's.
'Operation Sausages is go!' she woofed dramatically. 'I'll go into the shop and you wait outside and keep guard. The mum will take ages trying to get her puppy's carriage through the door. That gives me time to run in and out – I'll be quicker than a tail's wag. When I grab the sausages, run and we'll meet back at the shed.'
Freddy nodded. Batty's tail was swishing with excitement.
'First we have to be nice to the puppies. That's how we get in.' The mongrel ran over the road to meet the family. Freddy followed eagerly.
As soon as she reached the children, Batty started scampering to and fro in front of them. She woofed charmingly, flapped her ears up and down and tossed her pretty hair from side to side. It had the desired effect.
'Here boy,' cried the little girl, letting go of her mother's coat. Batty ran to meet her and allowed the girl to pat her on the head. Batty licked her face.
'Urg,' the girl giggled.
'Not too close!' her mother warned.
'Come on, Stinky', Batty woofed. 'Make them like you. It's easy.'
The baby gurgled with delight at Batty's funny antics. As Freddy trotted up to the children, he recognised the boy from his class at school. Daryl Spanner. Freddy didn't like him one bit. Daryl Spanner took one look at his classmate and laughed out loud.
'What a stupid dog,' he squealed. 'She looks like pink fairy floss. Prissy poodle, sissy poodle,' he taunted.
'She's so sweet,' cried the little girl. 'A little Barbie doggie.'
It was all more than Freddy could bear.
'I'm not a she, I'm a he. In fact, I'm a wolf!' he yapped. 'Who asked you anyway, Spanner? And tell your snotty sister that I'm not sweet and I'm not Barbie. I'm fierce!' He bared his teeth and woofed menacingly at the children. The little girl screamed.
'Shush, you big baby, I'm trying to be your friend,' Freddy barked urgently. The girl screamed even louder.
'Keep away, you smelly hound,' the mother yelled and whacked Freddy on the head with a rolled-up umbrella.