‘Time to take them for a walk,’ says Chelsea.

‘It’ll be good for them to dry off,’ I say. ‘And me!’

We go and see how Mum and Paul are going.

Everything looks more orderly now.

‘Thank goodness for microchips,’ says Paul. ‘Nineteen out of the twenty-eight dogs have homes we can find. I have all the microchip numbers so I’ll get their details online and start contacting the owners.’

The dogs have stopped barking and Paul looks much more relaxed than he did this morning. ‘You guys have done an amazing job. I could never have done it on my own. Thank you so much,’ he says.

‘I’ll pop back to my surgery with the dog that needs the dew claw removed. It can stay there overnight,’ says Mum.

‘Is it okay if we take the lost dogs for a short walk to dry them off?’ I ask. ‘You never know, someone might recognise one of them.’

‘It’s fine by me,’ says Paul. ‘That would be a great help.’

‘How about you just walk them to the end of this street and back?’ says Mum. ‘And don’t take too many at once. I’ll come back for you in about two hours.’

Chelsea and I choose two dogs each for the first trip. I choose the fat labrador and Hector, and Chelsea chooses the little terrier and the black fluffy dog.

Before we leave, Chelsea puts a few finishing touches on them. Each dog is brushed and styled and given a different-coloured bow to wear around its neck. No wonder Chelsea’s nearly world-famous, those dogs look fantastic.

We head off down the street with our flash-looking pooches. It’s quite tricky keeping them all together because they all want to sniff and wee on everything. Luckily we don’t have to walk far until we come to a bowls club.

There are heaps of people there. They can’t help but stop to admire the dogs. Hector’s very happy to meet them all. He wags his tail and circles around them. He gets the most pats because he just loves people. The labrador just wants to sniff their pockets for food.

‘Oh, I do miss having a little dog,’ says one old lady, bending down to scoop up Chelsea’s little black ball of fur. ‘We’re not allowed to have dogs in the retirement home where I live.’

‘They’re all lost. We have to try to find their homes,’ says Chelsea.

‘And if they don’t have homes, we need to find them new ones,’ I add.

‘They seem like nice dogs. It’s a pity they’re lost,’ says an old man. ‘Do you girls work at the lost dogs’ home?’

‘No, we’re just helping out today. We’re on school holidays, but we have to go back to school in a week.’ I let out a sigh.

We eventually get the dogs past the bowls club and walk them up to the corner and back. There are more people waiting to say hello to us on the return trip. The dogs love the attention and it seems the older people love giving it. They’re all laughing and patting the dogs and telling stories about the pets they once owned.

They’re even more excited when we say we’ll be bringing another lot.

When we get back to Paul there are three cars parked outside the lost dogs’ home and lots of happy people at the front desk. They must have been very worried. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose Curly.

We don’t want to disturb Paul when he’s so busy, so we swap the dogs over and start to groom the next four.

This time I have the large spotty Dalmatian and a smaller shaggy dog and Chelsea has a sausage dog and a poodle. We head out through the front office again. The lost dogs look very smart with their bows.

‘I’ve never seen dogs from a pound look so lovely,’ says one lady to her friend as they watch us walk by.

‘I must tell my sister to come and look here. She’s looking for a new dog after her poor old Snooky died.’

‘Chelsea,’ I say, ‘that lady has just given me an idea.’

‘What?’

‘Well, lots of people forget that you can get lovely dogs from pet shelters. Dogs that are just as nice as dogs from other places, and a lot cheaper, too.’

‘You’re right,’ says Chelsea.

‘Well, maybe we need to make more posters like the one we made for Hector? We could put them in pet supply shops and in Mum’s surgery. They might even put them in the paper!’

‘Juliet, that’s brilliant. No wonder you’re nearly a vet.’

‘Let’s start making posters when we get home tonight. Mum has a camera on her phone so we can take some snaps of them before we leave.’

We’re so excited talking about our new idea that we’re back at the bowls club before we know it. The manager of the bowls club has carried some chairs out to the footpath and there is now a row of smiling faces and warm hands waiting to say hello to us.

We tell them about our idea for the posters and a lady with a long grey plait suggests putting posters in the bowls club too.

When we finally get back to Paul we’re exhausted, and Mum drives in just us we unclip the last of the dogs.

‘Great news,’ says Paul. ‘The Australian terrier has been picked up as well, so that leaves us with just eight homeless pooches. Hopefully more of those will go in the next couple of days.’

I smile, even though I was hoping it was Hector that had found his home.

Maybe more posters will help him.

‘Paul, can we make some posters about the dogs that need to find a home? We thought it might help.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ says Paul. ‘I can copy them and put them on our website, too.’

‘Can we come back tomorrow?’ I beg Mum. ‘Chelsea and I are really going to need to get to know the dogs if we’re going to make meaningful posters about them.’

‘And they will definitely need more walking and grooming,’ adds Chelsea.

‘Sure,’ say Mum, rolling her eyes just a little. ‘As long as it’s okay with you, Paul? I have to bring the other dog back anyway.’

‘Of course it is!’ says Paul. ‘How often do I have assistants who are nearly vets and groomers to help me out?’

Chelsea and I can’t get the smiles off our faces. We’re going to be very busy.