Whisker and the Falling Moon

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Whisker sat on Mrs. Henderson's fence, counting clouds. One sheep-shaped cloud. Two turtle clouds. Three clouds that looked exactly like boring old clouds. His tail twitched with each count. "Seventeen... eighteen... nineteen..." he muttered, his whiskers drooping with boredom. The other cats were probably doing exciting things like chasing mice or knocking over flowerpots. But not Whisker. He was the town's official Cloud Counter, a job he'd invented himself last Tuesday. A yawn stretched his fuzzy face wide. "Twenty clouds. Same as yesterday. Same as always." His eyelids felt heavy as curtains. Maybe he'd just rest them for a tiny moment...

PLOP! A raindrop splashed directly onto Whisker's pink nose. His eyes snapped open. "Rain? But I counted zero rain clouds!" He scrambled down from the fence, shaking droplets from his orange fur. More raindrops pattered down, creating puddles on the sidewalk. Whisker zigzagged between them, trying to keep his paws dry. "This is all wrong," he grumbled, ducking under a mailbox. "Clouds are supposed to warn me before they rain. That's the whole point of counting them!" The shower passed as quickly as it came, leaving sparkly puddles everywhere. Whisker poked his head out, whiskers twitching suspiciously at the now-clear sky.

As Whisker crept from his hiding spot, something caught his eye. There, in the biggest puddle on Maple Street, floated something round and white and glowing. "The moon!" Whisker gasped, his fur standing straight up like a bottle brush. "The moon fell out of the sky!" He rushed to the puddle's edge, staring at the perfect white circle bobbing in the water. His heart hammered against his fuzzy chest. This was it - the disaster he'd always worried about! All that cloud counting, and he'd missed the most important thing falling from above! "I have to warn everyone!" Whisker's paws skittered on the wet pavement as he spun around. "The moon fell down! THE MOON FELL DOWN!"

ZOOM! Whisker shot down the street like an orange rocket, leaving a trail of panicked meows behind him. "BERNARD!" he screeched, skidding to a stop at the bulldog's doghouse. "Emergency! Code Moon! The sky is broken!" Bernard lifted one sleepy eyelid. "Whuzzat?" "THE MOON!" Whisker grabbed Bernard's droopy jowls with both paws. "It fell into a puddle on Maple Street! We need to put it back before bedtime or it'll be dark FOREVER!" Bernard's eyes popped wide open. "No moon means... no howling at the moon?" His bottom lip trembled. "But that's my favorite Tuesday activity!" "Exactly!" Whisker was already racing away. "Tell everyone! Save the moon!"

Bernard burst from his doghouse like a furry cannonball. "AROOOOO! EMERGENCY! THE MOON NEEDS RESCUING!" He galloped to the garden where Priscilla the pig was enjoying her afternoon mud bath. "Priscilla! Terrible news! The moon fell down and now we have to—" "The moon WHAT?" Mud flew everywhere as Priscilla leaped up. "But I need moonlight to see my reflection in my water trough! How will I know if my snout is clean?" "That's what I said!" Bernard panted. "Well, not exactly that, but – This is a DISASTER!" Priscilla squealed, charging toward the chicken coop. "Girls! Emergency meeting! Our beauty routines are in DANGER!"

The chicken coop exploded in a cloud of feathers and frantic clucking. "The moon fell?" squawked Henrietta, the head hen. "But the moon controls the tides!" "We don't live near the ocean," peeped a small chick. "THAT'S NOT THE POINT!" Henrietta flapped her wings dramatically. "Without tides, the ocean will overflow! It'll flood everything! We'll be swimming chickens!" "I can't swim!" wailed another hen. "Neither can I!" "Me neither!" "We're all doomed!" The chickens scattered in every direction, feathers flying like snow. They crashed into flower pots, bounced off fence posts, and tumbled over each other in their panic. "Save yourselves! Build boats! Learn to float!"

CRASH! BANG! SQUAWK! Feathers filled the air as chickens collided with everything in sight. One hen tried to fly but only managed to knock over Mrs. Henderson's prized roses. Another attempted to build a boat out of corn cobs, which immediately fell apart. "My cabbages!" cried Mr. Murphy as three chickens trampled through his vegetable garden. Meanwhile, Priscilla had reached the town square, still dripping mud. "ATTENTION EVERYONE! THE MOON HAS FALLEN AND WE'RE ALL GOING TO BE UGLY IN THE DARK!" A crowd gathered quickly. "What?" "The moon?" "I just saw it last night!" "This must be Whisker's fault - he's always predicting disasters!" "We need a rescue mission!" someone shouted. "Get ropes!" "Get ladders!" "Get... uh... moon glue?"

The town square transformed into complete chaos. The baker ran out with a giant net made of bread dough. "We'll catch it like a butterfly!" The librarian stacked books into a wobbly tower. "If we can reach high enough, we can put it back!" BOING! The fire brigade arrived, bouncing on rusty springs they'd attached to their truck. "We'll bounce up to the sky!" But they just bounced sideways into the fountain. SPLASH! "No, no, no!" The music teacher dragged out her tuba. "We'll play it a lullaby and it'll float back up!" BWAAAAP! The tuba's horrible honk made everyone cover their ears. Dogs howled. Babies cried. Even the traffic light turned itself off in protest.

Through all the madness, Whisker sat in the puddle on Maple Street, trying to scoop up the fallen moon with his paws. Every time he touched it, it wiggled and broke apart. "Stay still, moon!" he pleaded, chasing the white circle around the puddle. "I'm trying to save you!" Suddenly, he heard the chaos approaching. Chickens flapped overhead trailing toilet paper 'parachutes.' Bernard pulled a wagon full of pillows 'for moon catching.' Priscilla wore a helmet made of pie tins. "Whisker!" they all cried. "Where's the moon?" "Here!" Whisker pointed at the puddle. "But it keeps breaking when I touch it!" Everyone crowded around the puddle. "Ooh." "Ahh." "It does look fallen." "Very fallen indeed."

"MAKE WAY! PROFESSIONAL MOON RESCUERS COMING THROUGH!" The crowd parted as Mayor Cornelius J. Fluffbottom III (a persian cat with magnificent whiskers) arrived in a shopping cart pulled by six raccoons. He wore a colander on his head and carried a toilet plunger like a royal scepter. "I have assembled the town's greatest minds!" he announced. Behind him marched the strangest parade anyone had ever seen: - The dentist with a giant toothbrush ("For polishing the moon!") - The hairdresser with enough hairspray to style an elephant ("To make it stick in the sky!") - The gym teacher on a pogo stick ("I'll bounce it back up!") They all leaned over the puddle, pushing and shoving to get a better look at the fallen moon.

"On three, everyone grab!" commanded Mayor Fluffbottom. "One... two..." "THREE!" Twenty pairs of hands, paws, hooves, and wings plunged into the puddle at once. SPLOOOOOSH! Water exploded everywhere like a geyser. The 'moon' shattered into a million wiggling pieces. "It's escaping!" shrieked Henrietta. "Moon fragments!" gasped Bernard. "We broke it worse!" wailed Priscilla. Everyone splashed frantically, trying to catch the silvery shapes. The gym teacher pogo-sticked right into the puddle. The dentist scrubbed at the water with his giant toothbrush. The raccoons formed a moon-catching chain but just got tangled in their own tails. "Wait," said a tiny voice. "Why are there TWO moons now?"

Everyone froze mid-splash. Little Penny Possum pointed one tiny paw at the puddle, and another at the sky. There, hanging exactly where it always hung, was the moon. The real moon. Round and white and definitely not fallen. "But... but..." Whisker's whiskers drooped as he looked from the sky to the puddle and back again. "If that's the moon up there, then what's...?" Mayor Fluffbottom adjusted his colander crown and peered at the puddle with great authority. "Aha! I see the problem here!" He poked the water with his plunger. "This, my dear citizens, appears to be... a reflection." Silence fell over Maple Street. Even the wind seemed embarrassed.

"A... reflection?" Whisker's voice came out as a squeak. "You mean we panicked over a puddle picture?" Bernard's tail stopped wagging. "I put pie tins on my head for nothing?" Priscilla touched her ridiculous helmet. The crowd looked at each other. Soaking wet. Covered in feathers. Tangled in toilet paper. The raccoons were still in a knot. The gym teacher stood waist-deep in the puddle, pogo stick and all. Then someone snorted. A giggle escaped. A chuckle bubbled up. "BWAHAHAHA!" The whole town burst into laughter. They laughed until their sides hurt. They laughed until tears streamed down their faces. They laughed until even Whisker's embarrassed frown twitched into a smile.

"Well," said Mayor Fluffbottom, removing his colander with great dignity, "I hereby declare this the silliest emergency in town history!" "Three cheers for Whisker!" someone shouted. "He gave us the best laugh we've had all year!" "Hip hip HOORAY! Hip hip HOORAY! Hip hip HOORAY!" Whisker's orange fur turned pink under all the attention. "I'm sorry I scared everyone. I just wanted to help save the moon." "Don't apologize!" Bernard wagged his entire body. "That was the most exciting Tuesday I've ever had!" "My mud bath can wait," Priscilla laughed. "This was way more fun!" "Plus," added Henrietta, "now we know exactly what to do if the moon ever REALLY falls!"

As the sun set over Maple Street, Whisker sat on his fence again. But this time, half the town sat with him. They'd brought popcorn and lemonade and turned moon-watching into a party. "There it is!" Whisker pointed as the real moon rose over the trees. "Safe and sound in the sky!" "You know," said Penny Possum, munching popcorn, "you might worry too much, Whisker. But you also care the most. That's pretty special." Whisker's whiskers perked up. "Really?" "Really!" everyone agreed. "Who else would try to save the moon with their bare paws?" As laughter and chatter filled the evening air, Whisker realized something. Maybe being the town worrier wasn't so bad - especially when you had friends who'd help you rescue a reflection. Even the moon seemed to wink at him. Or was that just another puddle?