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In the bright living room of his new house, Cooper stands near a corner carpet where the silent hoover with wheels and a long tube looms. His floppy ears lift as he barks, tail mid-wag.
Cooper the spaniel wagged his tail at his new house. His floppy ears bounced as he explored. In the corner stood something big and round. It had wheels and a long tube. "What is that?" Cooper wondered. The hoover looked strange and scary. Cooper barked at it. The hoover did not move. Cooper sniffed closer. It smelled like dust. Cooper decided to stay away from the mysterious hoover.
At the sunlit front doorway, Bertie the penguin smiles wide while Cooper sits beside him, ears perked. Behind them in the hallway, the mysterious hoover waits motionless like a shadowy statue.
A knock came at the door. Cooper ran to see who it was. Outside stood Bertie the penguin! His black and white feathers shone. His yellow beak smiled wide. "Hello, Cooper! I am your new neighbor," Bertie said. Cooper barked happily. "Want to play?" Cooper asked. Bertie waddled inside. Then Bertie saw the hoover. "What is that thing?" Bertie asked. "I do not know," Cooper said. "But it is scary."
Inside the brightly lit lounge, Mom pushes the roaring hoover across the wooden floor. Cooper and Bertie crouch shoulder-to-shoulder behind a plush sofa, wide eyes peeking over the armrest at the rolling machine.
Mom plugged in the hoover. VROOOOM! The hoover roared to life. Cooper jumped back. Bertie flapped his flippers in surprise. The hoover rolled across the floor. "It is alive!" Cooper barked. "Run!" Bertie shouted. The two friends raced to hide behind the sofa. They peeked out as the hoover moved around. Mom pushed it back and forth. "Maybe Mom controls it," Bertie whispered. Cooper nodded slowly.
That evening under a warm lamp in the quiet living room, Cooper and Bertie face each other in front of the dormant hoover. They shake paw and flipper solemnly, promising to investigate the machine tomorrow.
After Mom left, Cooper and Bertie talked. "We should not be scared," Cooper said. "You are right," Bertie agreed. "We are brave friends." They made a plan. First, they would watch the hoover. Then they would get closer. Finally, they would touch it. "Together?" Bertie asked. "Together," Cooper promised. They shook paw and flipper. The two friends felt stronger already. Tomorrow they would face their fear.
Morning sunlight filters through the curtains as Cooper and Bertie sit across the tiled kitchen doorway, observing Mom guide the humming hoover around chair legs. Dust disappears into the tube while the friends whisper, suddenly fascinated.
The next day, Mom took out the hoover again. Cooper and Bertie watched from across the room. The hoover hummed and rolled. It sucked up dirt and crumbs. "It cleans the floor," Bertie noticed. "That is helpful," Cooper said. They watched Mom guide it carefully. The hoover went under tables. It went around chairs. "It does what Mom tells it," Cooper observed. The hoover seemed less scary now. Maybe it was just a tool.
The living room lights glow softly as the hoover rests silent in the center rug. Cooper and Bertie stand side-by-side inches away, smiling nervously while listening to their own quick heartbeats.
When Mom turned off the hoover, it stopped. Cooper took three steps forward. Bertie waddled beside him. They got closer and closer. The hoover sat quietly. "It is sleeping now," Bertie said. Cooper sniffed the air. No scary sounds. No sudden moves. "One more step," Cooper said bravely. Bertie counted, "One, two, three!" They both moved forward together. Now they stood right next to the hoover. Their hearts beat fast but they smiled.
Mid-afternoon rays stream through the window onto the quiet hoover. Cooper gently taps the plastic shell with one paw as Bertie reaches a flipper toward the hose, both grinning in delighted relief.
"Should we touch it?" Bertie asked nervously. Cooper felt brave with his friend nearby. "Let us try," Cooper said. He reached out one paw. He tapped the hoover gently. Nothing happened. Bertie touched it with his flipper. The hoover stayed still. "It is just a thing," Bertie laughed. "We were scared of a thing!" Cooper said. They both giggled. The hoover could not hurt them. They felt proud of their bravery. Friendship made them strong.
Under bright ceiling lights, the unattended hoover rolls across the living room rug, its hose nudging Cooper's tail. Cooper braces his paws and noses the machine backward while Bertie tugs the wall plug, freezing the beast.
The next time Mom used the hoover, Cooper was not scared. But then Mom left it running. She went to answer the phone. The hoover started rolling by itself! It bumped into Cooper's tail. "Ow!" Cooper yelped. The hoover rolled toward Bertie. "Help!" Bertie called. Cooper jumped in front of his friend. He pushed the hoover away with his nose. Bertie unplugged it. CLICK. The hoover stopped. "You saved me!" Bertie cheered.
Afternoon shadows stretch across the hallway when Cooper's paw becomes trapped beneath the heavy hoover. Straining, Bertie wedges a wooden broom under the casing and presses down like a lever, popping Cooper free.
The next day, Cooper got his paw stuck under the hoover. "Bertie, help!" Cooper called. Bertie came running fast. His little penguin legs moved quickly. Bertie pushed and pulled. The hoover was heavy. "I cannot do it alone," Bertie panted. Then Bertie had an idea. He grabbed a broom. He used it like a lever. POP! Cooper's paw came free. "Thank you, friend!" Cooper said. "Friends help each other," Bertie smiled. Cooper licked Bertie's beak.
In the sunny playroom, toys and chairs are neatly stacked while Mom guides the whirring hoover. Nearby, Cooper lifts a chair and Bertie sweeps a dusty corner, then they high-five above the tidy floor.
Mom asked Cooper and Bertie to help clean. "Can you move your toys?" she asked. The friends worked as a team. Cooper picked up his ball. Bertie pushed his blocks to the toy box. Then Mom started the hoover. This time, neither friend was scared. Cooper moved the chairs. Bertie swept the corners. They helped Mom clean every room. "You two are wonderful helpers," Mom said. Cooper and Bertie high-fived. Working together was fun!
Beside the overturned plant in the bright kitchen, soil scattered across white tiles, Cooper carefully steers the roaring hoover hose while Bertie steadies the handle. Crumbs of dirt vanish, leaving a spotless patch under their focused gaze.
One day, Cooper knocked over a plant. Dirt went everywhere! "Oh no!" Cooper cried. "Mom will be upset," Bertie worried. Then Bertie had an idea. "We can use the hoover!" he said. Cooper felt nervous. "Can we do it ourselves?" he asked. "Together we can," Bertie said. They plugged in the hoover. VROOOOM! Cooper guided it carefully. Bertie helped push. Soon the floor was clean. They turned it off together. "We did it!" they cheered.
That night in the softly lit living room, Cooper and Bertie sit against the dormant hoover, eyes half-closed after a long day. The machine glows faintly in lamplight as the friends lean shoulder to shoulder, content.
Mom came home and saw the clean floor. "What happened to the plant?" she asked. Cooper and Bertie told the truth. "I knocked it over," Cooper said. "But we cleaned together," Bertie added. Mom smiled warmly. "I am proud you told the truth and worked together." That night, Cooper and Bertie sat by the hoover. It was not scary anymore. "We make a great team," Cooper said. "Best friends forever," Bertie agreed. They learned friendship means being brave together.
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