The next morning, Charles lingered at home until the very last minute, hating to leave Miki for even a few hours. Why did he have to go to school? Miki was so much fun to be around. Charles had never met a puppy with such a sparkling, merry personality. Miki seemed to be in a great mood all the time. She bounced around happily, never missing an opportunity for more attention.

“Like last night,” Charles told his best friend, Sammy, during recess. They were waiting for their turn at the plate during a kickball game. “After dinner Buddy curled up on his bed. But Miki still wanted to show off her tricks. She kept it up until we were all yawning and couldn’t stay up a minute longer.”

“She should be on that show America’s Most Talented Pets,” Sammy said. “I mean, if everything you’re saying is true, she could probably win the top prize. You know, just ten thousand dollars,” he added, shrugging. He acted like it was no big deal.

“Ten thousand dollars!” Charles had seen the show, of course. It seemed like the winning pets usually had a whole act that they did, along with their owners. He’d forgotten that the top prize was so big.

Charles was distracted for the rest of the day at school, picturing himself and Miki on a stage lit with whirling laser lights—the music pounding as he and Miki did their act. He imagined a panel of judges watching in amazement as Miki charmed them, and he pictured the audience going wild with cheers and applause. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing up there, but otherwise he could see the whole thing, including the part where the top judge shook Charles’s and Miki’s hands and gave them a giant check for Ten! Thousand! Dollars!

Then Charles could announce that Miki needed a forever home, and the Petersons would be flooded with calls and texts from people who wanted to adopt her. This was the point in the daydream where Charles pictured Mom and Dad agreeing that Buddy needed an adorable little sister, and that Miki could stay with them forever. As long as he was dreaming, why not go all the way and make it so Miki became part of the Peterson family?

After school, Sammy and Charles practically sprinted all the way home. Miki and Buddy met them at the front door, all grins and wagging tails. “Wow, she really is cute,” said Sammy, dropping to his knees to pet Miki. He petted Buddy, too. “And so are you,” he said. Sammy loved Buddy and didn’t want him to be jealous.

“She was a good girl today,” Mom reported. “She ran through her tricks for me, but then she settled down and took it easy. She and Buddy napped for most of the afternoon while I worked, so I’m sure they’re both ready for some playtime.”

Charles and Sammy took the puppies into the backyard. Sammy hooted with laughter when he saw how Miki tore around the yard.

“It’s the bichon blitz,” Charles told him. Once she had worked out her energy a little by running around, Charles called Miki over. “Sit, Miki,” he said.

Miki’s butt hit the ground before he’d even finished the command. She smiled up at him, tilted her head at that adorable angle, and wagged her little tail.

Easy-peasy. What’s next?

“Shake,” Charles said, holding out his hand.

Miki put her paw in his hand. Then, without him asking, she offered her other paw. Then she got up on her hind legs and offered him a high five, then a low five with each paw.

Come on, let’s make this fun!

Sammy burst out laughing. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. She is a superstar. What else can she do?”

“She likes to dance,” Charles said, and before the words were out of his mouth Miki was up on her hind legs, spinning around. She grinned up at the boys as she whirled.

Like this, you mean? I do like it. I mean, I love it! I love to dance.

“She’s amazing!” Sammy said. “That’s it! We have to put together an act for America’s Most Talented Pets. She can dance while we sing.” He jumped up and started waving his arms around.

“Um,” said Charles. He was glad Sammy was so enthusiastic, but he couldn’t quite picture it. “Wouldn’t we need a little more than just the two of us up there singing?” Charles once had very bad stage fright, but he’d mostly gotten over it when he acted in a community theater play. He could picture himself onstage, but not just standing there with one other boy, singing. On TV. In front of millions of people. Was Sammy really serious? Charles had thought they were just fooling around.

“Sure, of course we’d have more,” said Sammy. “You could play keyboards, right? And I can play drums.”

Charles raised his eyebrows. It was true that he’d taken a few piano lessons, and he did have a keyboard in the garage. But it was more of a toy than a real instrument. It had built-in loops so it sounded like you were really making music when you touched just about any key. And the only drums Sammy had were a pair of bongos his grandpa had given him. His mom had made him keep them in the basement since she couldn’t stand the racket Sammy made when he banged away on them.

“And Lizzie can play tambourine!” Sammy was so excited his words were tripping over each other. “We can have a whole band. We already know a bunch of songs.” He began to sing one of the songs their class had performed at the school’s last open house.

Miki had been looking back and forth as they talked, as if she was following their conversation. Now she stood up on her hind legs and began to dance in rhythm to Sammy’s singing.

We can do this thing! I’m so ready.

Charles cracked up. Maybe Sammy was right: Miki was born to perform. “Okay,” he said, shrugging. “I guess we’re gonna go for it.”