When Lizzie got home from the stable she found Charles and her mom in the kitchen. She was starving. Riding definitely gave her an appetite. “What’s for supper?” she asked.

She bent down to pat Rascal, who was boinging and barking. He was always so happy to see her! That felt good. When she straightened up, she saw the frown on her mother’s face. And Charles had his finger over his lips, giving her the Shh! sign.

The Bean copied Charles, shushing Lizzie noisily.

Uh-oh.

“Well,” said Mom, “we were going to have meat loaf.” She folded her arms and glared down at Rascal. “But when I was upstairs looking up recipes on the computer, somebody found out that he could jump high enough to reach the hamburger on the counter.”

Rascal stopped bouncing for a second and sat down, looking up at them.

Why did everybody look mad? Weren’t they proud of his new trick? How many dogs could jump that high? He was a very, very very good jumper, even if he did say so himself. And now that he had discovered the countertop, life in the kitchen wasn’t going to be nearly as boring.

Lizzie shook her head at Rascal. He stared up at her with his black button eyes gleaming and his stubby tail wagging. How could such a naughty dog be so cute? “What are we going to do with you?” she asked.

“We’re going to find him a home, that’s what,” Mom said.

“But Mom,” Charles said. “Who will take him if he acts this way?”

Now it was Lizzie’s turn to give her brother the Shh sign. He was just upset because meat loaf was one of his favorite dinners. “We’ll keep working on his training,” she promised her mom.

“Great,” said Mom. “But you need help. So I’ve signed us up for a private lesson with Jamie. She’s coming over tonight.”

“Here?” Lizzie was surprised. She didn’t know that dog trainers made house calls.

“She says it’s important for the whole family to learn how to train Rascal,” Mom said. “She wants us all here.” Mom didn’t look too excited about the lesson.

Dad liked the idea, though. “It’ll be fun,” he said when he got home with two pizzas he’d picked up for dinner. Mom had obviously called to tell him about Rascal and the hamburger meat.

They had barely finished eating when the doorbell rang. Rascal started boinging and barking his loud, high-pitched bark. The Bean put down his pizza crust and barked along.

Mom put her hands over her ears.

Lizzie ran for the door. “Hi, Jamie” she said when she opened it.

“Hi, Lizzie,” Jamie answered. “Tell you what. Let’s try this again. I’ll go out and wait a minute, then ring the doorbell. If Rascal starts barking —”

“He will!” Lizzie said.

“When Rascal starts barking,” Jamie said with a smile, “try throwing this down near his feet. Don’t hit him with it, and make sure he can’t really tell where it’s coming from.” She handed Lizzie a soda can with pennies inside it and the top taped shut.

“I’ve used one of these before,” Lizzie said, “when we were testing Shadow, the dog who is learning to be a guide dog. We tossed a penny can near Shadow to see if it would scare him. It didn’t.”

“Great,” Jamie said. “Well, this time, the penny can is just supposed to give Rascal something else to think about. If he stops barking because he’s surprised or curious, you can praise him and give him a treat.”

“Let’s try it!” said Lizzie. She shut the door on Jamie and went back to the kitchen. Climbing over the baby gate, she quickly explained the plan to the rest of her family. Then she stood near Rascal until the doorbell rang again.

When it did, Rascal started barking.

Lizzie threw the can.

Hey! What was that? Rascal heard the jangly noise and wondered where it came from. But he was too busy barking to stop and find out now. After all, he had a job to do. He had to let his people know that someone was at the door!

“Well, that didn’t work so well,” Jamie admitted when Lizzie answered the door again. “But don’t worry. We’ll try some other things.”

Rascal was still barking as Lizzie and Jamie came into the kitchen.

“Rascal!” Dad yelled. “Cut it out!”

Dad was not usually a yeller. But everybody was tired of Rascal’s barking.

“I know it’s frustrating,” Jamie said. “But you have to try not to yell at him. Try to think like a dog. If he hears you yelling, he thinks you’re just barking, too — and he’ll want to bark along.”

“But what else can we do?” Mom asked, taking her hands off her ears to hear Jamie’s answer.

“Ignore him,” Jamie suggested. “Wait until he winds down. Then praise him.”

They ignored Rascal.

They ignored him some more.

He just kept barking and boinging.

“Or,” Jamie said finally, “you can try spraying him with a little water, or water mixed with vinegar.” She pulled a spray bottle out of her bag and sprayed Rascal when he wasn’t looking.

Hey! What was that? It didn’t usually rain indoors. Rascal twirled around in a circle, trying to figure out where the water was coming from.

The barking stopped.

“Ahh,” said Mom.

“Finally,” said Dad.

“Good dog!” Jamie said to Rascal, giving him a biscuit. “Now,” she said, “maybe we can get some training done.”

Jamie stayed for over an hour, working with Rascal and with the Petersons.

Rascal tried to pay attention. He really did. But it was boring to sit, and even more boring to stay. Twirling and jumping were so much more fun!

“Thanks for coming,” Mom said when the exhausted Petersons said good night to Jamie.

Jamie sighed. “You’re welcome. I wish I could help more. But the truth is, Rascal may never be a great house pet.”

Charles and Lizzie looked at each other.

“I’ll make some phone calls,” Jamie went on. “I know a lady who takes dogs on her farm. Maybe Rascal could stay with her for a while. The dogs don’t get a lot of attention, but at least he would have a place to live.”

Mom and Dad nodded. But Charles and Lizzie shook their heads. The farm part sounded good, but Rascal loved people and needed attention. They would have to keep trying to find him the right home — and they didn’t have much time left.