Connor is exhausted, but in a good way. Though at first he was trepidatious about going into the mortal establishments, as though his ears and tail would once more pop into view, with Dagmar by his side, he knew that nothing bad could happen.
He dozes now, belly full of treats, bag of kettle corn from the apple orchard still clutched in sticky hands, basket of fresh picked apples tucked into the sidecar by his feet.