Some cats haf purrfectly good sense, but don't always act like it. Purrlie was one of those. A furry social club kitty, she loved going places wif groups of offur kitties, especially dressing up and going dancing at parties. She was a romantic little soul, and she'd had crushes on a few boys, but she hadn't had a chance to invite them anywhere before they showed up at parties wif offur girls.

So, rather than nurse a broken little heart, Purrlie decided she would hold out fur a Prince. Only a real prince among cats would henceforth be worthy of her attention. She went to parties wif her girlfriends, and danced wif any boy who asked her, fur she did love to dance. Some were so tall, she had to crane her neck and get a crick in it, some of them stepped on her toes and some spilled gravy on her dress. Some were decidedly prince-like and some were certainly not. None were her Prince.

Purrlie kept her eyes open all the time. She knew he hadn't come yet, because her Prince would notice her and come straight to her. He would be elegant and catsome, not too tall fur her, and haf blue eyes like her, she hoped. So she was busy looking around at a New Years party when seven brofurs arrived and caused quite a stir among all the unattached girls; in fact, even a few of the attached girls. They were all tall and catsome, and proving to be wonderfur dancers, except one little guy who, er... wasn't.

Not being a forward type herself, she watched as offur girls ran to grab all the brofurs except one. Yes, that one. She sighed as the music started to play, and decided to go and get some catnip punch. Well, my Prince isn't here, she thought.

The seventh brofur stared at Purrlie across the room, and thought she was quite the most beautifur girl he efur saw. Oh dear, she must haf dozens of admirers, she'd nefur go fur a boy like me, thought he. He headed straight fur her anyway; he couldn't help himself. He tripped ofur somebody's dress and ran smack into some decorations that fell down on his head, and managed to bump two kitties and spill their punch on them on his way, until he stood in front of Purrlie wif a silver streamer hanging from his ear. But he couldn't think of a thing to meow.

Purrlie just looked at him. His eyes were merry and kind, if not blue, but my goodness, what was wrong wif him? Then he gulped hard and croaked, "Mew are my Princess." And she purred.

That night Purrlie found her Prince. And she realized why she had not before then. In looking fur one who was already a prince, she hadn't known that the right girl is what makes a boy a Prince. And they lived happily efur after.

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