Wish Upon a Star

by Patty Furlington

  “I had no idea there was so much talent in Petrovia,” Rosie said cheerfully. “This is going to be the best talent show ever!”

  “Yes,” said Cleo softly, though she didn’t sound very happy about it.

  “I’d better hurry home before it gets dark,” Rosie said. “Want to have dinner at the palace?”

  “No, thanks,” said Cleo, shaking her head sadly. “I’ll just head back to Catnip Corner.”

  “Would you mind hanging up a few posters while you’re there?” Rosie asked her.

  Cleo nodded, then trudged off in the direction of her village.

  “See you soon,” Rosie called out to her friend, but she didn’t get a reply.

  Cleo’s acting weird, she thought to herself as she pulled the sled back to the palace. She’s probably just cold and tired.

  Rocky and Rollo pounced on Rosie the second she returned home.

  “Rosie’s back!” cried Rocky.

  “Tell us now, Dad!” said Rollo.

  “What’s going on?” asked Rosie. Melting snow dripped off her fur, leaving a puddle on the floor.

  “I have more exciting news, but wanted to wait until you got back,” said King Charles, smiling at the three puppies. “This year’s talent show is going to be judged by … Bella Fierce!”

  The next morning, Rosie didn’t need an alarm clock or even her brothers to wake her up. She jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn, eager to start work. Rosie really wanted to prove that her parents were right to trust her with such an important job!

  Glancing up at a poster of Bella singing into a microphone, Rosie shivered with excitement. She couldn’t believe her idol was actually coming to visit!

  The palace was silent except for the sound of Rosie’s rumbling tummy. Rosie padded softly downstairs, not wanting to wake anyone up. The dining room table wasn’t set for breakfast yet, so she headed to the kitchen to grab a quick bite.

  The kitchen was in the basement, and as Rosie trotted down the stairs, her ears perked up. Someone was singing!

  Petal, the palace’s chef, was wearing headphones and singing opera loudly as she stirred a big pot of oatmeal on the stove.

  “Morning, Petal,” said Rosie, but the guinea pig didn’t hear her.

  “Tra la la la!” sang Petal.

  “Hi, Petal,” Rosie tried again, a bit louder.

  “La la ti daaaa …” Petal trilled. The glasses in the kitchen cabinets started to rattle dangerously as she hit a very high note.

  “Ahem!” Rosie coughed loudly.

  “Oh!” squealed Petal, jumping and dropping her spoon with a clatter. Taking off her headphones, she said, “Your Highness! You scared the living daylights out of me!”

  “Sorry, Petal,” said Rosie, picking up the spoon. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I hope my singing didn’t wake you up,” said Petal.

  “No,” Rosie assured her. “I got up early because I’ve got a lot to do today. I’m organizing the Royal Talent Show,” she told the cook proudly.

  “That’s wonderful!” said Petal. “That’s why I was practicing. I’m going to sing opera in the show.”

  “Cool,” said Rosie. “Have you heard who the judge is going to be?”

  Petal got a clean spoon out of a drawer and returned to stirring the oatmeal. “Who?” she asked.

  “Bella Fierce!” Rosie announced.

  “Oh my!” Petal gasped, nearly dropping the spoon again. “I adore her!”

  Rosie winced as Petal started singing one of Bella Fierce’s songs in the style of an opera singer. It was all she could do not to cover her ears with her paws!

  “Well, I’d better get to work,” she told Petal.

  “Don’t you want some oatmeal?” Petal asked, waving the spoon like a conductor’s baton.

  “No, thanks,” said Rosie, grabbing a freshly baked muffin. “I’ll have one of these.”

  Munching the delicious banana-nut muffin, Rosie hurried out of the kitchen. She liked Petal’s baking a lot more than her singing!

  Right, Rosie said to herself, first I need to find Theodore. The butler was usually up bright and early. Rosie searched for Theodore in the throne room, the dining room, and the ballroom, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Hmm, where could he be? she thought.

  Rosie peeked in the parlor, but Theodore wasn’t in there, either. Instead, six bunny maids were standing on top of one another to make a pyramid.

  Shaking their feather dusters like cheerleaders’ pom-poms, the maids cried, “Give me a P-E-T-R-O-V-I-A!”

  “Petrovia!” Rosie called out.

  Startled, the bunny at the top of the pyramid started to wobble. WHOOPS! The pyramid collapsed, and the bunnies fell on their fluffy tails.

  Rosie rushed over and helped them up.

  “Sorry, Princess Rosie,” said one of the maids, straightening her apron. “We were rehearsing our cheerleading routine for the Royal Talent Show.”

  “It’s looking good,” said Rosie. “Have you seen Theodore?”

  None of the cheerleading maids had seen the butler.

  Rosie headed back upstairs. The rest of her family would be awake by now—perhaps Theodore was with them.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said, spotting Queen Fifi emerging from her royal bedchamber and stretching her hind legs sleepily. The fur at the top of her head was in curlers, and she hadn’t even put a tiara on yet. “Have you seen Theodore?”

  “I just woke up!” yawned Queen Fifi, ducking into the bathroom and quickly shutting the door. The queen never liked to be seen—even by her own puppies—when she wasn’t looking regal!

  Passing Rocky and Rollo’s bedroom, Rosie heard a loud thump. Pausing, she pressed a silky ear to the door and listened. A strange sawing noise was coming from inside.

  Rosie burst into the room. Rocky and Rollo turned around, looking guilty. They each held one end of a two-handled saw and were sawing away at a wooden box.

  “What are you two doing?” Rosie asked suspiciously.

  “Help!” shouted a quavery voice from inside the wooden box. There was another thump. “Get me out of here!”

  “Theodore?” said Rosie. “Is that you?”

  “Yes!” cried the butler. “They’re trying to cut me in half!”

  “What?” gasped Rosie. “Is that true?”

  “No,” said Rocky.

  “Yes,” said Rollo.

  “Well?” demanded Rosie. “Which one is it?”

  “We’re pretending to saw Theodore in half,” said Rocky.

  “It’s a trick for our magic act,” explained Rollo. “Only we’re not exactly sure how to do it.”

  Rosie lifted the wooden box’s lid and helped the elderly tortoise crawl out.

  “Thank goodness,” he gasped, clutching her paw. “That was absolutely terrifying.”

  “Aw,” said Rollo. “It isn’t even a real saw, it’s just a prop.”

  “We thought tortoises liked enclosed spaces,” said Rocky, shrugging. “You know, like your shell.”

  “You need to find yourself a new assistant,” said Theodore indignantly.

  “Maybe you two should do something a little easier,” Rosie suggested. “Like card tricks.”

  “Boring!” scoffed Rocky.

  “We’re not going to win the talent show with card tricks,” said Rollo. “Come on, Rocky. Let’s go have breakfast.” The princes ran out of the bedroom.

  When Theodore had recovered from his fright, Rosie could finally ask him the question she’d been thinking about since she woke up. “Where will Bella Fierce sleep when she visits?”

  There were lots of guest rooms in Pawstone Palace, but Rosie wanted to make sure that Bella’s bedroom was perfect for her.

  “Perhaps we could put her in the Garden Suite, Your Highness,” said Theodore.

  “Hmm,” said Rosie. The Garden Suite had floral wallpaper, pictures of flowers, and big windows overlooking the garden. “It might be a bit chilly.” The palace was very old, and some of the w
indows were quite drafty.

  “What about the King Rufus Bedroom?” Theodore asked.

  “Too old-fashioned,” said Rosie. Stuffy old antiques didn’t seem like Bella Fierce’s style.

  “Maybe Ms. Fierce might like the Royal Blue Bedroom?” suggested Theodore.

  Rosie’s eyes lit up. “Her favorite color is blue!” she exclaimed.

  Rosie and Theodore walked very, very slowly to the Royal Blue Bedroom. The walls were covered in bright blue silk, and the enormous bed had a matching canopy. “This is perfect!” Rosie said, gazing around. There were a pretty dressing table, a crystal chandelier, a gold clock—

  “Oh my goodness!” Rosie gasped. “Look at the time! I was supposed to meet Cleo before my dance lesson!”

  Scurrying out of the bedroom, she raced down the stairs and skittered to a halt outside the ballroom. The sound of Bella Fierce singing floated out.

  Oh no, she thought. Did I get the date wrong? Bella Fierce wasn’t supposed to arrive until the day before the show. Opening the door a crack, Rosie peeked inside.

  A cat was gracefully twisting and gliding across the dance floor, shaking her lithe, furry body to the beat. But it wasn’t Bella Fierce—it was Cleo!

  “Way to go!” barked Rosie, clapping her paws.

  Embarrassed, Cleo froze.

  “Don’t stop, Cleo! You’re an amazing dancer.” Then Rosie had an idea. “You should enter the talent show!”

  Cleo shook her head. “I’d love to be in the show, but I’m too shy to dance on stage, all by myself. Unless … will you enter the show with me?”

  “I’m a terrible dancer,” Rosie told her friend. “Just ask Bruno. And besides, I’m too busy planning the show to rehearse an act.”

  Cleo looked deflated. “That’s okay, Rosie,” she said. “It’s no big deal.”

  But Rosie could tell it was a big deal to her friend. She couldn’t let her down. “Don’t worry, Cleo! I’ll find you a dance partner for the talent show,” Rosie promised her.

  But where?

  The ballroom door opened, and Priscilla ushered Bruno inside. “Princess Rosie, Bruno is here for your lesson.”

  Rosie groaned inwardly, but greeted her teacher politely. “Hi, Bruno.”

  Priscilla followed the dance instructor into the ballroom. “Will you be entering the Royal Talent Show?” she asked him.

  “Sadly not,” said Bruno, sighing.

  “But why?” said Priscilla. “You are such a wonderful dancer.”

  “That’s true,” said Bruno, nodding. “I am. But a ballroom dancer needs a partner, and there are no dancers in the kingdom who are truly my equal.”

  “None at all?” said Priscilla. “Maybe you could take a chance on a dancer you could train …” She looked at Bruno hopefully, as if she was hinting at something.

  Rosie suddenly had an amazing idea. Bruno needed a dance partner, and Cleo was too scared to dance on her own. They could enter the talent show together. It was perfect!

  “Cleo!” she exclaimed.

  “What?” said Cleo.

  “You can dance with Cleo!” Rosie said.

  “That’s not what I meant …” Priscilla said, her ears drooping with disappointment.

  Rosie was so excited by her plan that she didn’t hear the sadness in the housekeeper’s voice. “Cleo is a really talented dancer,” she told Bruno.

  “This little kitten?” Bruno said, looking Cleo up and down doubtfully.

  “Trust me,” said Rosie. “Just watch her and you’ll see.” Turning to Cleo, she said, “Do the dance routine you were doing when I came in.”

  “I’m not sure about this,” Cleo mewled nervously.

  “Don’t worry,” said Rosie. “It’s just me, Bruno, and …” She looked around for Priscilla, but the bunny housekeeper had left the room.

  Bruno tapped his paw on the floor impatiently. “Well?” he said. “Are you going to dance? I don’t have all day.”

  Rosie turned the Bella Fierce song back on. “Go on,” she urged Cleo. “Show him how well you can dance.”

  At first, Cleo moved stiffly, darting anxious glances at Bruno. Soon, though, Cleo relaxed into the music. Her whole body shimmied and sashayed to the irresistible rhythm of Bella Fierce’s song. To finish, Cleo pirouetted on her paws. She spun around so fast her gray fur looked like a blur!

  “So … ?” said Rosie, eager to hear the dance teacher’s verdict. His expression hadn’t changed the whole time Cleo had been dancing.

  “You lack technique, your tail was droopy, and your paw-work is sloppy,” Bruno growled.

  Cleo stifled a sad little meow.

  But Bruno hadn’t finished giving his feedback yet. “But you do have grace, rhythm, and lots of energy.”

  “That’s good, right?” Rosie asked.

  “No, it’s not good,” said Bruno. He leaped up and held out his paws to Cleo. “It’s FAN-TASTIC!” Bruno grabbed Cleo and waltzed her around the ballroom. “You will be the PURRRR-fect partner for me!”

  “Yay!” squealed Rosie, her tail wagging excitedly. “Now you can both be in the talent show!”

  Rosie’s words snapped Bruno back to his usual stern manner. “We have lots of work to do,” he told Cleo. “I must teach you to Charleston and cha-cha. You also need to learn to swing dance and do the samba. Are you ready to get started?”

  “Okay,” said Cleo, looking a bit dazed. “But what about Rosie’s dance lesson?”

  “Oh yes,” said Bruno, his whiskers twitching.

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Rosie. She was on a roll this morning! “Why don’t you use my lessons to prepare for the talent show?”

  “Hmm,” said Bruno, pondering her suggestion. “I’m not sure that Queen Fifi will approve.”

  “She will!” said Rosie quickly. “She and the king have asked me to organize the talent show, so I’m super busy. I could really use the extra time.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Cleo asked her.

  “Are you kidding?” Rosie said. “Of course I don’t mind.” In fact, she added silently, I can’t think of anything better than skipping my dance lessons!

  “Well then,” said Bruno. “It’s agreed.” He clapped his paws together briskly. “We’ll begin with the fox-trot.”

  As Bruno and Cleo danced, Rosie wrote a to-do list. There were tickets to sell, programs to make, sets to build, and costumes to design. How will everything get done in time? Rosie wondered.

  The rest of the morning flew by as Rosie made plans and schedules while Bruno taught Cleo how to rumba.

  “Keep your tail straight, but wiggle your hips,” Bruno instructed her.

  As Bruno counted the beat, Cleo danced forward, her hips moving but her tail staying perfectly still.

  “Excellent!” said Bruno. “You look like a wild tiger, not a tame little kitten!”

  Rosie heard a growl, but it wasn’t a tiger—it was her tummy!

  “It’s time for lunch,” said Bruno. “Dancers need to keep up their energy levels.”

  As Rosie and Cleo made their way to the dining room, they passed King Charles.

  “Have you seen my crown?” the king asked them, scratching his head. “I seem to have misplaced it.”

  “Sorry, Dad,” said Rosie. “I haven’t seen it.”

  “We’ll keep an eye out for it, Your Majesty,” Cleo promised him.

  In the dining room, Priscilla and a group of kitchen maids were clustered around Rocky and Rollo.

  “Abracadabra!” cried Rocky, waving his paw over a gold crown.

  With a flourish, Rollo pulled a silky purple scarf out of the crown.

  “Oooooh!” gasped the maids.

  “How did you do that?” Cleo asked the princes.

  “Magicians never reveal their secrets,” Rocky told her, tapping his nose with his paw.

  “Is that Dad’s crown?” Rosie said. “He’s looking for it, so you’d better give it back.”

  “No time for an encore,” Rollo told the maids. “W
e’ve got to go.”

  “Hey, Cleo,” Rocky asked on his way out of the dining room, “do you want to be our new assistant?”

  “Sorry, Cleo’s already in an act,” Rosie informed her brothers. “She’s dancing with Bruno.”

  Priscilla gave a loud sniff.

  Oh dear, thought Rosie. Priscilla’s probably feeling left out because she’s not in the talent show. Then she had yet another good idea!

  “Priscilla,” Rosie said, “could you make the costumes for the talent show?”

  Priscilla’s ears perked up. “Will I get to watch the rehearsals?”

  “I guess so,” said Rosie.

  “Count me in!” said Priscilla, looking much happier.

  After lunch, Rosie and Cleo went upstairs to Rosie’s bedroom to hang out. Rosie took a book about Bella Fierce off her bookshelf and flipped through it, taking notes. She wanted to be totally prepared for the pop star’s visit.

  “Did you know that Bella signed her first recording deal when she was still just a kitten?” Rosie asked Cleo. “And that she always drinks tea with honey before performing?”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” said Cleo. “The only thing I know about Bella Fierce is that I love her music.” She put on a Bella Fierce song and started to dance around the bedroom.

  “I thought you’d be tired after your lesson with Bruno,” said Rosie.

  “I’m never too tired to dance to Bella Fierce,” said Cleo, laughing. “My paws just can’t keep still when I listen to her songs.”

  “Neither can mine,” said Rosie, joining in. Cleo taught her the routine she’d done in the ballroom. Soon, Rosie knew all the moves and was happily twisting and twirling along to the music.

  “I don’t know why you say you’re a bad dancer,” Cleo panted when they’d stopped dancing and had collapsed on Rosie’s bed.

  “I guess I only like certain types of dancing,” said Rosie. “Definitely not ballroom dancing.”

  “Yikes!” said Cleo, checking the time. “I’d better go. Bruno wanted me to practice some more. See you later!”

  Lunch break over, Rosie pulled out her to-do list. So far today she’d found a bedroom for Bella Fierce, a dance partner for Cleo, and a job for Priscilla. Tick! Tick! Tick! Not bad for a morning’s work, thought Rosie. This was going to be the best talent show ever!