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“Rupert?” I called, feeling desperate and hopeful at the same time.

“Woopah!” yelled Sam.

Dad kept up the pace, pushing Sam in the stroller.

“Let’s go, Sam!” he said. “Go, Sam, go!”

“Go, Mondo, go!” said Sam, waving Mondo in the air.

I was sure I’d find Rupert sitting in the front yard, waiting for us. I had pictured the perfect ending to the story. But Rupert wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.

Dad brought the stroller to a sudden stop. Mondo flew out of Sam’s hands.

“Mondo!” shouted Sam. “Mondo!”

That’s when we heard it.

“AAAAARRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOO …”

I looked at Dad.

Dad looked at Sam.

It was unmistakable.

“AAAAARRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOO …”

“Rupert?”

“WOOPAH!”

Rupert came bounding out of the backyard, his leash dragging behind him and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. His tail wagged. He was happy to see us.

Rupert bounded right past me, right past Sam and right past Dad. He stopped at the spot where Mondo lay on the sidewalk. Rupert took Mondo in his mouth, gave him a good shake and then dropped him on Sam’s lap.

I grabbed the leash.

“Good Woopah!” shrieked Sam, bouncing up and down and clapping.

Rupert licked Sam.

Sam kissed Rupert smack on the lips.

MMMMMWWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!

“Rupert!” said Dad, relieved. “Are we glad to see you!”

“Rupert,” I said, hugging him. “I’m so glad we found you. I’m so glad you came home.”

“Woopah good dog,” said Sam. “Woopah home.”

“Sam,” I said, turning to Sam. “You really are smarter than any of us.”

“Tham good boy!” said Sam proudly.

I noticed Gretchen Thorn walking down the sidewalk, coming toward us. She really was everywhere! This time, though, she didn’t just have Dijon. She had a bulldog, too.

“That’s four!” I said.

“What?” she said.

“You know,” I said. “This is the fourth time I’ve seen you this summer. And it’s the third time I’ve seen you today.”

“I didn’t know you were counting,” she said.

“Yeah, well,” I said. “You started it.”

“I see you found your friend,” she said, smiling.

“You were right,” I said. “He found his own way home.”

“Wicked,” she said.

The dogs all did a little sniffing.

“Who’s the new dog?” I asked.

“This is Winston,” said Gretchen. “He’s Mr. Buntrock’s English bulldog. I’m going to be one of his dog-walkers. He’s a lot stronger than Dijon. And he doesn’t like standing around, so I have to keep moving. This whole dog-walking thing isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Later gator.”

“What?”

“Later gator,” she said, walking away.

Dad took Rupert’s leash from me. I pushed Sam’s stroller. Sam held on to Mondo. I smiled. So did Dad. So did Sam. Rupert barked.

Everything was okay.