Lulu hops through the meadow at night. Something flickers down from above and lands with a soft boop near her paws.
She tiptoes closer and hears a tiny sniffle coming from a little dot of golden light. Lulu crouches down and peers at the star — its glow is dim and uneven.
Lulu grabs the star and tries to carry it up the grassy slope, but it keeps sliding out of her grip. She drops it, picks it up — and her ears droop.
The star lets out another sad little sniff. She notices the hill rising in the distance and straightens up.
On her first try, Lulu tugs the star with a blade of clover, but they both slip backward into a patch of dew.
On her second try, she digs her back paws into the dirt and pulls hard — the star wiggles upward just an inch before stopping.
On her third try, Lulu notices a flat stone and rolls the star onto it like a sled, then tugs steadily until the stone creeps onto the highest ridge.
At the top, Lulu stands on her hind legs and holds the star toward the dark sky. She gives it a gentle push.
The star zips upward with a merry zing, swirling around twice before settling back into its place among the other stars. The star blinks once, then begins to twinkle bright and steady.
A warm golden pool of light spills right onto Lulu's white fur.
From then on, every night Lulu sits in the meadow and looks up at the same spot where the star twinkles just for her.
She holds her paw up in a small wave, and the star flashes brighter — as if saying hello.
