Pluto dropped the tennis ball, wagged his whole body, and licked Mickey’s face. Then he grabbed the banana from the leftover Mouseketools, peeled it with one happy chomp, and shared it with Toodles.
"Don't worry, Pluto," said Minnie, patting his head. "We'll pick the right Mouseketools." picking the mouseketools in pluto's best
But Pluto was nervous. He whimpered and spun in three circles, his tail tucked. The course had tunnels, a wobbly bridge, and worst of all—a scary vacuum cleaner at the finish line that spit out tennis balls. Pluto dropped the tennis ball, wagged his whole
"Don't forget the Mouseketools!" Mickey sang. He looked at the feather duster. "Soft, not scary." He tied it to a stick and gently brushed Pluto's nose. Pluto wagged his tail—it tickled! Then Mickey used the feather duster to sweep the leaves out of the tunnel. Pluto saw the light at the other end and zoomed right through. "We'll pick the right Mouseketools
Pluto growled back but wouldn't go near it.
And the clubhouse sparkled, because in Pluto’s best, friendship—and the right Mousketool—always won.