Charles stared at his father. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” said Dad, “he’s an awfully big puppy, and fostering him could be an awfully big job. Remember Boomer?”

Charles grinned. How could he forget the giant, slobbery puppy the Petersons had once fostered? Boomer had been sweet, but maybe a little — clumsy. And he shed. A lot. “Yeah, so? That turned out okay in the end.”

“Maybe,” Dad said. “If you don’t count a few broken vases, some ruined clothes, and a giant food bill.”

“We’ve fostered little dogs that were more trouble,” Charles reminded him. He stroked Louie’s big head, which now lay heavily in Charles’s lap. Louie seemed to feel very comfortable with Charles already. “What about Daisy?”

Dad laughed. “True. That pup was pretty destructive. Our couch has never been the same.” He held up his hands. “We’ll talk it over as a family. Speaking of which, I bet your mom and the others are here by now, getting our picnic ready. Let’s see if our furry friend is ready to join the party.”

“What do you think, Louie?” Charles put his arms around the big pup’s neck. “I promise you’ll be safe.”

The black-and-white pup nuzzled Charles’s ear until Charles giggled. Then he thumped his big tail on the ground again.

Whatever you say. I trust you now.

“I guess we’ll just have to hope that he’ll stay with us until we find a leash and collar for him,” said Dad.

“I think he’ll want to stick around once he finds out that we’re having hot dogs,” Charles said. He stood up, only to find out that his foot was asleep from sitting cross-legged for so long with a big dog head on his lap. He stood on one foot and circled the other until he felt the pins and needles that meant it was coming back to life. “Come on, Louie. Let’s go get you a treat.”

The puppy seemed to know that word. He looked up eagerly and nuzzled Charles’s pocket, wagging his tail.

Treats? I’m totally into treats.

Charles laughed. “I don’t have any yet. But we’ll find you something as soon as we can.” He petted the puppy’s big long ears. “Good boy,” he said as they began to walk back toward the lake.

They walked quietly for a while. Then Charles spoke up. “Dad? How could anybody abandon such a great dog?”

Dad shook his head. “They probably thought they had a good reason. But there’s never a good reason to leave a dog like that. If they couldn’t keep him, they should have brought him to Caring Paws.”

Charles nodded. “And then Ms. Dobbins probably would have called us to foster him, anyway,” he said with a grin. Ms. Dobbins was the director of the local animal shelter. Charles’s older sister, Lizzie, volunteered there every Saturday, and Charles often helped out, too. For his next birthday, he was planning to ask everyone to donate food and supplies to Caring Paws.

“You’re probably right about that,” Dad admitted. “But still, it has to be a family decision to take on a foster pup of this size. Let’s see what your mom thinks.”

Charles wanted to run on ahead and find Mom and ask her — beg her! — to let him foster Louie. He was already crazy about this big dude with the big black spots and the huge, feathery tail.

“Maybe you should run on ahead and —”

Charles looked at his dad. How did he do that? It was like he was reading Charles’s mind.

“— tell the other kids to take it easy when the puppy gets there,” Dad finished.

“Oh, right,” said Charles. “Good idea.” He saw that they were about to come out at the bottom of the trail, by the lake. “Can you hold Louie?”

Dad knelt down and put his arms around the big pup. “Ha, ha, cut it out!” he said when the puppy licked his face.

“See? He likes you, too,” said Charles.

“Go on,” said Dad, smiling.

Charles ran down the path toward the cluster of people near one of the picnic tables on the lakeshore. As he got closer, he saw that Mom was there with Lizzie and the Bean, and Liam’s parents, and Sammy’s dad. The twins’ father had arrived, too. The adults were setting food out on the picnic table while the boys kicked a soccer ball around. “Hey, everybody,” Charles called. “Hey, we got the puppy to come back out. He’s on his way here.” He paused, panting. “But he’s kind of shy, so everybody has to be calm. Okay?”

The twins’ dad laughed. “I hear he’s kind of a wimp,” he said.

Charles stopped in his tracks and frowned. He didn’t like that. “No, he isn’t,” he said. “Louie’s just not used to lots of people jumping on him.”

Mom put her hands on his shoulders. “We understand, Charles. We’ll be careful not to scare him. Right, boys?”

“Right,” chorused Sammy, Liam, and Hunter.

But Tyler put his hands on his hips. “Louie?” he said. “How did you find out his name?”

“I just guessed it,” said Charles. “He just seems like a Louie.”

“I bet I can think of a better name,” said Tyler.

Charles shrugged. “Here he comes,” he said, pointing to the edge of the woods. Dad and the big black-and-white pup were just emerging from the trail.