Lizzie spotted her friend before Teddy did. Maria was waiting on their usual corner, with two dogs on leashes. She had already picked up Tank, the German shepherd, and Scruffy, a small Maltese–Yorkshire terrier mix whose owner called him a Morkie.

Lizzie waved at her friend, trying to catch Maria’s attention without getting Teddy all excited. Maria waved back. “Hey, is that Teddy?” she called.

Oops. Immediately, Teddy started to bark at the top of his lungs, straining at the leash as he tried to run toward Maria and the two dogs.

 

Who’s there? Who’s there? Let’s see! Let’s see! Let’s see!

 

Lizzie realized she and Maria should have made a plan for introducing the dogs, but it was too late now. Teddy was surprisingly strong for such a tiny dog. He dragged Lizzie toward Maria, barking all the way.

Scruffy was a barker, too. He added three yips for every one of Teddy’s yaps. By the time Tank joined in with his loud, high-pitched shepherd bark, the noise was overwhelming. Lizzie knew that both of the bigger dogs were usually friendly, but she was still careful to keep a tight hold on Teddy’s leash as they approached. The barking quieted down a bit as the three dogs sniffed one another, tails wagging and ears on alert. Then Teddy began to spin in circles, barking excitedly, his fluffy tail waving high over his back and his mouth wide in a doggy grin.

 

Hurrah! New friends! Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!

 

Lizzie clapped her hands and whistled. Teddy paused to look up at her. “Good boy,” she said. She dug into her pocket for a scrap of turkey and slipped it into his mouth before he could start barking again.

“Wow.” Maria gazed down at Teddy in wonder. “He sure can bark.”

“I know,” said Lizzie. “I’m working on it.”

“He’s cute, though,” said Maria. “Really cute. And you know it, don’t you, little one?” She made a kissy-face at Teddy. “And if he’s also as smart as you say he is, someone will want to give him a good home.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Lizzie. Now that the dogs had gotten to know one another a bit, they had calmed down. Lizzie and Maria began to walk their usual route, up toward the school and then back around past the cemetery.

“Are you sure you can handle another dog along with Teddy?” Maria asked doubtfully as they approached the house where Atlas, a golden retriever, lived.

“Positive.” Lizzie hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. In truth, she wasn’t sure at all. “Let me hold Tank and Scruffy while you go get him. I’ll try to keep Teddy from barking when he sees the new dog.” She looped Teddy’s leash over her arm and put a hand into her pocket to pull off a piece of turkey so she’d be ready.

The second Maria walked away, Tank shoved his nose into Lizzie’s hand, trying to get at the turkey. Lizzie turned away from him, trying to keep it out of his reach. Teddy ran around her in circles, trying to see what was going on. Scruffy pushed his head between her knees, sniffing at the sidewalk where a tiny piece of turkey had dropped. Soon Lizzie was wrapped up in three leashes, so tangled that she couldn’t take a step in any direction. Her arms were pinned to her sides. She was trapped.

A moment later Maria came out of the house with Atlas at her side. He was a big dog with a lot of energy, but he had very good manners. If you told him to heel, he would stick to your side like glue.

Usually, that is.

That day was different. As soon as he spotted the tangle of dogs, he lunged forward, dragging Maria along behind him. “Heel, Atlas, heel,” she cried. He ignored her and charged toward Lizzie.

Teddy started to bark and spin, but Lizzie was too tangled up in the leashes to even try to clap her hands. Scruffy yipped and yapped and dashed toward Atlas. Wham! Lizzie went down hard, banging her knee and her elbow. “Ow,” she cried. Tank stood over her, drooling as he stared at the turkey in Lizzie’s fist. She opened her hand.

“Go ahead,” she said wearily. “Eat it.”

Maria shook her head. “It’s going to be a long day,” she said as she helped Lizzie to her feet and began to untangle the leashes.

Maria was right. Somehow, they managed to get all their clients’ dogs walked, but it took a lot longer than usual. Lizzie was exhausted by the time she and her friend parted in front of Maria’s house. “Phew! Done.” Lizzie tried to find the energy to smile. “At least nothing really terrible happened, even though we walked thirteen dogs.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “Still, I vote that you leave Teddy home tomorrow. I can’t go through that again.”

Lizzie nodded. She couldn’t blame her friend for feeling that way. “I’ll just take him out after we’re done, I guess. Unless I can convince Charles to do it.” She waved to Maria and set off for home.

Teddy trotted along beside her, looking like an innocent ball of orange fluff. She smiled down at him and shook her head. “Troublemaker,” she said fondly. He barked happily up at her.

And then he kept barking. And barking. And barking.

Lizzie knew she should do the gimme-five thing with him, or clap her hands, or try to teach him the “quiet” command — but just at that moment Lizzie had the strangest thought. It just popped into her mind. I’m tired of all of these dogs. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, surprised at herself. She had never, ever had a thought like that before. Not in her whole dog-loving life. But suddenly it was all too much: the walking, the training, the constant attention. Dogs, dogs, dogs. She’d had it. She needed a break. Right that moment, she couldn’t stand even one second more of Teddy’s yapping.

Lizzie pulled her iPod out of her pocket and plugged in her earbuds. She knew it wasn’t right. She knew she should deal with Teddy’s barking. But at that moment, all she wanted was to tune him out, just for the few minutes it would take to walk home. Besides, she hadn’t heard her song since last night. She found “Angel Mine,” cranked up the volume, and began to walk dreamily along, holding Teddy’s leash in one hand and the iPod in the other.

“Angel Mine, you’re the dear one,” Lizzie sang along happily as she stepped off the curb to cross the street. She didn’t care one bit that she probably sounded like a bellowing moose. “Angel Mine, be with me — hey!”

She frowned at Teddy, who was pawing at her leg frantically. “What? What do you want?” One of her earbuds fell out as she glared down at the tiny dog. That’s when she heard it. The howl of an ambulance siren, growing closer every second.