‘And what may I do for you this morning?’
The sorcerer had ingeniously placed himself against a corner of the water tank in the greenhouse where at odd intervals a tap dripped one huge, reluctant drop onto the top of his head. Then he would look up and the drop would dribble slowly down his back to add to the shallow puddle in which he crouched. He had breakfasted off twenty-eight mosquitoes, and was in a contented frame of mind.
‘I’ve decided that I want to be a dog.’
‘What kind of dog?’
‘Er – a large dog.’ After a pause during which the toad eyed him unblinkingly, he added, ‘And beautiful – by dog standards, that is. So that everyone will love me.’
‘You’ve considered the drawbacks, of course.’
‘Not really, because I don’t know what they are. But I’ve thought a lot about the advantages – the good side.’
‘And what do you consider them to be?’
‘Well, dogs don’t have to hunt for food . . .’ He listed all the advantages that had occurred to him when he’d first had the idea, ending with being loved by everyone.
The toad listened. It was impossible to tell from his expression what he was thinking. Then he said, ‘Of course I can turn you into a dog – even a specific breed of dog – but after that the life you lead will be entirely a matter of chance; it’s nothing to do with me. Nor,’ he added ominously, ‘might it have very much, if anything, to do with you.’
There was a silence during which Freddie heard a monstrous drop of water plop onto the toad’s head. He felt confused. What did the toad mean – things not having very much, if anything, to do with him?
While he was puzzling about that, the toad interrupted: ‘Before we go any further, I have two statements to make.’ He cleared his throat in a rich, croaky manner. ‘One: this is the last time I’m prepared to do any sorcery for you. Officially I retired last year. It was merely because I hadn’t switched off my magic properly that I heard from you – messages occasionally still got through. Also, I have to admit that I was a trifle bored. People usually wish to be more of whatever they are in the first place, and your desire to be someone completely different intrigued me. So – you have just one more chance. Two: the same rules apply as they did when you became a tiger. You will have precisely one week as whoever you choose to be. You then come back to me and decide whether you wish to remain a dog or whatever animal or go back to being a mouse. And that will be all. Is that clear?’
Freddie nodded. He was feeling more and more nervous and could not prevent his nose from twitching quite violently.
‘Could you choose the kind of dog for me? I’m afraid I don’t know any of their names.’
The sorcerer looked at him consideringly. ‘Let me see: large, beautiful and everyone loving you – poodles, red setters, Afghans . . . Ah! I’ve got it! A lurcher! That’s the best one for you. But before we agree on that, I feel I should warn you that this time you will not remember anything at all about being a mouse. You will be entirely a dog, and nothing but a dog. Understood?’
Freddie, reminding himself that he was a hero and extremely brave, nodded again – he was trembling too much to speak.
The sorcerer said some words that Freddie could not understand, and then his voice got so faint that it didn’t matter, because everything somehow faded into dark rushing air – and then stopped.