“This is so awesome!” Maria said. She and Lizzie were standing in the stable, putting Sally’s saddle on again. “I can’t believe your parents let you sign up for riding lessons.”

“They said I deserved it because I’ve been working so hard with Rascal,” Lizzie said. She patted Sally’s neck and the old mare nickered softly. Lizzie was happy to be back at the stable.

“Is he learning to behave?” Maria asked as she tugged on a stirrup.

“Not really,” Lizzie admitted. “Mom gave me and Charles one more week to try to teach him indoor manners. After that, she said we’ll have to give him to the Humane Society and hope they can find him a home.”

Maria shook her head. “That wouldn’t be good,” she said. “You can give him a lot more attention. But you’ll figure something out. I’m sure of it! You’re so great with dogs.”

“I was great with dogs,” Lizzie said. “But this one . . . I don’t know.”

“Well, forget about Rascal for a little while,” Maria said. “Let’s think about horses instead.”

“Sounds good,” said Lizzie.

“Sally’s just about ready for you to ride,” Maria said. “Why don’t you go grab my extra helmet from the tack room while I tack up Major?” Major was Maria’s favorite horse, a shiny chestnut with a white star on his forehead.

After she got the helmet, Lizzie wandered down the stable aisle, waiting for Maria. She said hello to some of the horses she’d met the other day: Treasure, Jasper, Willie. She even patted Minx, the beautiful Palomino. But she stayed away from Jet, the black horse that Maria had called “skittish.” Lizzie wasn’t sure what that meant, but it might have something to do with kicking or biting. Lizzie was getting used to horses. She wasn’t nearly as scared of them as she had been, but she still thought it was best to be careful.

Then Lizzie looked down to the last stall and caught a glimpse of a glossy brown horse. It had a big, noble head and soft, dark eyes that met Lizzie’s with curiosity. “Wow,” Lizzie said. She didn’t know much about horses, but she could tell at a glance that this one was special. She started walking toward its stall. The horse tossed its head and whinnied as she approached. She stopped for a moment. But then she couldn’t resist moving closer.

There was a sudden booming noise. Lizzie stopped in her tracks. What was that?

“Lizzie, stop!” Maria called from the other end of the aisle. “Don’t go any closer!”

Lizzie backed up a few steps, keeping her eye on the horse, who was now tossing its head again. The whites of its eyes were showing and its ears were pointed back. Lizzie knew that when a dog’s ears looked like that it was often scared or mad. That was probably true for horses, too.

Maria ran up to Lizzie. “That’s Sir Galahad,” she said. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Lizzie nodded. He was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. His glossy brown coat was gleaming, and his black mane and tail were long and silky. “Is he — dangerous?” she asked.

Maria shook her head. “No, he’s just cranky. That noise you heard? He was kicking the sides of his stall.”

Lizzie was glad he wasn’t kicking her. Sir Galahad was a big horse. He seemed twice as big as Sally. “Why’s he kicking?”

“He’s just been a big old grouch lately,” Maria said. “He’s Kathy’s horse. He’s an amazing jumper. She used to show him all the time, but now he’s so moody that she doesn’t take him to horse shows. I think he’s bored, and that just makes him grouchier.”

“You’re probably right,” someone said. It was Kathy, joining them near Sir Galahad’s stall. She walked right up to the big horse and rubbed his nose. He snorted but didn’t move away. “Silly guy,” she said. “Why can’t you be nice like you used to be?”

Lizzie sighed. “It’s so hard to get animals to do what you want them to do,” she said.

Kathy gave her a curious look. “That’s definitely true,” she said. “But what animal are you having trouble with? Not Sally! She’s a star.”

“No,” Lizzie said. “It’s this puppy my family is fostering.” She told Kathy a little bit about Rascal. Kathy listened and nodded.

“My husband, Wayne, and I used to have a Jack Russell,” she said. “Pepper. He was kind of the stable mascot. Did you know that you can often find Jack Russells at stables? They seem to get along well with horses. Anyway, Pepper died six months ago. I still miss him like crazy, the little devil.” She laughed. “Those dogs are so energetic. It makes them hard to train, even though they’re so smart.”

That made Lizzie feel better.

Kathy thought for a moment. “Would you like to bring your little guy here next time? Maybe if I met him I could help with some training ideas.”

“Really?” Lizzie asked. She had already started to have another of her great ideas. Maybe Kathy would want to adopt Rascal! He could live at the stable, with plenty of room to run and play — and get lots of attention, too. Lizzie could not imagine a better home for the little pup. “That would be awesome. Are you sure?”

Kathy nodded. “I know it will make me sad to see a Jack Russell. Wayne and I have already decided if we ever get another dog it will be a different breed. We could never replace Pepper. But still, it sounds like you could use some help with this little Rascal.”

“I definitely can,” Lizzie said. Her great idea had not lasted very long. It sounded like Rascal would not find a home at the stable, but it would still be fun to take him there just the same. “Thanks!”

“And now,” Kathy said, “I think someone is waiting for you.” She pointed down the aisle to where Sally stood patiently. “Ready for your lesson?”