It wasn’t just an idea. It was a great idea. After all, Oscar needed a friend, and Ginger would be perfect! Aunt Amanda had told Lizzie that Oscar was grouchier with boy dogs than with girl dogs. And part of his problem was that he wanted to be top dog. Well, Ginger was a girl dog. And Lizzie was sure that Ginger wouldn’t care one bit if Oscar wanted to be top dog. She was a beagle-basset mix, pretty old, and a little “wide on the sides,” as Charles had once said. Ginger never took any notice of other dogs. All she wanted to do was poke along on her short little legs, with her big long ears swaying, sniffing at every single thing she passed. Walking her took practically forever some days.

When Lizzie got home, she took Buddy around to the backyard and made sure the gate to the fence was closed. Then she went inside to find Oscar.

Mom was in the kitchen, scrubbing potatoes in the sink. The Bean stood on a chair beside her with an apron tied around his middle. “I’m helping!” he told Lizzie proudly. His whole front was soaked with water, and he was beaming.

“Where’s Oscar?” asked Lizzie.

“In the living room with Charles,” said her mom. “Where’s Buddy?”

“Out back,” Lizzie said. “Can you let him in as soon as Oscar and I leave? I still have one more dog to walk and I’m taking him with me.”

Her mother sighed looking down at the potato in her hand. “This is already getting a little tiresome,” she said. “All this dog juggling. We really need to find Oscar a home soon. But — did you say you’re taking him with you? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“You want me to find him a home, right? Well, I’m working on it,” said Lizzie. “I’m going to introduce him to Ginger. Oscar needs to learn to get along with other dogs, and I think she might be a good place to start.”

Mom nodded. “I see. Well, I suppose it’s all right, as long as you’ve cleared it with Ginger’s owner,” she said.

Lizzie gulped. Mom was right. She’d better ask first. She ran upstairs to find the index cards she kept about each client, and found the one about Ginger. She ran a finger down it, looking for the phone number. Ginger’s owner was a pretty young woman with curly hair, named Anjali Davis. Moments later, Lizzie was on the phone, explaining everything.

“It’s fine with me,” said Anjali when she’d heard about Oscar. “Nothing fazes Ginger. And she has seemed a little down in the dumps lately. Maybe she could use a friend.”

“My aunt told me about some good ways to introduce dogs,” Lizzie said before she and Anjali hung up. “Can you take Ginger out into your backyard? I’ll be over in five minutes.”

She ran back downstairs and found Oscar and Charles playing tug with one of Buddy’s toys. “Thanks for taking care of him today,” said Lizzie. “I owe you.”

“I owe you, Most Perfect Brother,” Charles prompted.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Right. I owe you, Most Perfect Brother.” Then she turned to Oscar and gently took the toy out of his mouth. “C’mon, pal,” she told the mustachioed pup. “Let’s go. You’re going to meet a friend.”

She had him sit by the gate to Ginger’s backyard. When Anjali came over to say hello, Lizzie made Oscar shake hands with her. Then they opened the gate to let him in and Lizzie took off his leash (Aunt Amanda had told her that some dogs behaved more aggressively when they had leashes on). He let out a tiny woof when he first spotted Ginger, but Lizzie told him to sit again. Ginger plodded calmly forward on her short legs, her ears nearly brushing the ground, and sniffed him for a moment. Oscar went stiff, and Lizzie saw the hair on his back stand up. She got ready to grab his collar in case he started to growl. But instead, he sniffed back. Then his tail began to wag.

Delightful to meet you, madam!

“That worked well,” Lizzie said to Anjali as they watched the two dogs touch noses. Now both tails were wagging.

“Ginger usually does best on her own, but she’s friendly enough with other dogs,” said Anjali. “And she loves people. I like to take her to the yoga studio where I teach. She’s very popular there.”

Lizzie looked at Oscar. She looked at Ginger. Then she looked at Anjali. “You know …” she began. Could it be possible? Could she have found a forever home for Oscar already?

Anjali seemed to read her mind. “Oh, no!” she said, shaking her curly head. “I wouldn’t even consider having two dogs. I have my hands full as it is. But you’re welcome to bring Oscar along when you walk Ginger, anytime. Maybe he’ll pep her up a little bit. All she wants to do lately is sleep.”

Lizzie snapped leashes onto both dogs’ collars. “Come on, you two,” she said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

It did seem as if Oscar’s energy was contagious. Ginger stepped along much more quickly than she usually did. Oscar pranced happily beside her, his bright, intelligent eyes taking in the sights and his nose sniffing busily. Occasionally he and Ginger stopped to play for a moment, but Oscar was always gentle with the older dog.

“You were a good boy, Oscar,” said Lizzie as they headed home after the walk. She stopped at the corner to wait for a car to go by and reached into her pocket for a dog biscuit. “Here you go,” she said, bending down to give it to the bouncy, bearded pup.

When she straightened up, a flyer on a nearby telephone pole caught her eye — mostly because it featured a picture of a beautiful golden retriever. Maybe it was about a lost dog. She went over to get a better look at it. “‘Premium Pet Dog Walkers,’” she read. “‘If you love your pet, hire the best.’” Her heart thudded in her chest. “What is this?” she said out loud. She stood and read some more.

Then Lizzie reached up, pulled the flyer down, and stuffed it into her pocket.