“What are they doing here?” Lizzie whispered to Maria.

“Shhh! It’s starting.” Maria pointed to Anjali, who stood quietly beneath the blossom-covered boughs of an old apple tree. The pink and white flowers gave off a sweet smell as Lizzie came to stand closer. Oscar sniffed at the air as if he enjoyed their sweetness, too.

Anjali smiled at the small group of people gathered nearby, and spoke in a soft voice. “Thanks to all of you for coming. I know you cared for Ginger and I wanted us to say good-bye to her together.” She gestured at a mound of dirt under the apple tree. It was sprinkled with apple blossoms, and a bouquet of daffodils in a blue jar sat near a wooden plaque. “My dad helped me bury Ginger, and he made that beautiful plaque for her, too.”

Lizzie felt the tears start to come when she saw the carved letters. “GOOD DOG, GINGER,” they read. Ginger’s collar hung on one corner of the sign. Lizzie tucked Oscar’s leash under her elbow and rummaged in her pocket. Where were those tissues? Her mom had passed her a handful as she had left the house that morning for Ginger’s memorial.

Next to her, Brianna leaned over and whispered, sniffling, “Can I have one of those?”

Lizzie gave her a tissue. She still didn’t know what Brianna and Daphne were doing there, but now was not the time to ask. Anjali was talking again.

“I wrote a long letter to Ginger, sort of a love letter, I guess,” she said. “I buried it with her. But I wanted all of you to have a chance to tell Ginger what you loved about her, too.” She held out her hands to the people on either side of her, a woman Lizzie recognized as a neighbor, and — hey! — wasn’t that the grouchy mailman?

“Let’s all hold hands and have a moment of silent reflection,” Anjali was saying. “And then if anyone wants to speak, they are welcome to.”

Lizzie turned to look at Maria. They clasped hands and gave each other sad smiles. Maria squeezed Lizzie’s hand. “He’s being so good,” she whispered with a glance down at Oscar.

Sure enough, Oscar was sitting quietly by Lizzie’s feet. She had made sure to take him for a long walk that morning, to tire him out. He glanced up at Lizzie from beneath his bushy brows.

This is such a serious occasion. And where’s my lovely long-eared lady friend?

Lizzie turned to Brianna and held out her other hand. Brianna smiled and took it. Then they all closed their eyes and the yard was quiet, except for a breeze rustling the apple blossoms and the chirping of a bird.

Lizzie thought of Ginger’s sweet face, and of how soft her long ears were, and of the way she and Oscar would lie next to each other.

“Good-bye, dear Ginger,” Anjali said, breaking the silence.

Lizzie had to blow her nose again and wipe her eyes.

“Would anyone like to speak?” Anjali asked.

Lizzie was surprised when Daphne stepped forward. “Brianna and I met Ginger when we started to go to Anjali’s Yoga for Youngsters class. She was so sweet the way she lay next to Anjali’s mat, waiting patiently for class to end. Brianna and I would always spend some time with her afterward. I loved to pet her silky ears.”

Next to Lizzie, Brianna sniffled. Lizzie handed her another tissue. So that was why they were there. Lizzie thought about what Daphne had said. Ginger really was a very patient dog — but it had not always been easy to be patient with her. Lizzie had never tugged on Ginger’s leash or yelled at her, but sometimes she had been tempted to, when Ginger was taking forever to go around the block.

“Ginger was forgiving.” Someone else was speaking now. The mailman! “If I ran out of biscuits by the time I got to her house, she never held it against me,” he went on. “She was always happy to see me, biscuit or no biscuit.”

Lizzie looked at Maria. Her friend sure was forgiving. No matter how mad Maria was at Lizzie, she always got over it. Lizzie squeezed Maria’s hand again. She vowed to try to be more forgiving herself. Then she turned back to the circle. She felt like she wanted to say something. “Ginger was kind,” she said. “I never saw her be mean to another dog or a person. She welcomed Oscar into her house, even though he isn’t always the easiest dog to get along with.”

Anjali nodded and smiled at Lizzie. “Oscar was there for Ginger in her last days. I will never forget that.”

A few other people spoke, and then Anjali went around the circle, giving each of them a daffodil. As she passed out the flowers, she took a moment to hold each person’s hands and say a few private words. When she came to Lizzie, she said, “Thank you, Lizzie, for all the time you took to make Ginger’s last days happier.” She knelt down to pet Oscar. “And thank you, Oscar. You are a very special dog.”

Lizzie had to stop herself from asking if Anjali would like to adopt Oscar. She knew it was much too soon for that. She looked over at the grouchy mailman, thinking that she ought to talk to him about Oscar. They had gotten along well — maybe because they were a little alike. Was he interested in owning a dog?

Maria touched Lizzie’s elbow. “I have to tell you something,” she whispered. “You know I needed help when you were spending all that time with Ginger, right?”

“Sure.” Lizzie saw Maria cut her eyes toward Brianna and Daphne, who were standing together near Ginger’s grave. “Oh,” she said. “You hired them?”

Maria nodded. “And they were great, too. They both really love dogs. They were responsible and patient and good to work with.”

Lizzie closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath. She thought about patience, and forgiveness, and kindness, and the example Ginger had set. Then she opened her eyes and looked at her friend. “So why are we trying to fight them?” she asked. “Why don’t we just ask if they’d like to join our business? We sure could use the help.”

Maria grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. She threw her arms around Lizzie. “It’s really the perfect solution. Let’s go ask them.”

*  *  *

Later, as Lizzie and Maria and Daphne and Brianna sat beneath the apple tree talking about plans for their business, Anjali came over and tapped Lizzie on the shoulder. “Can we talk for a minute?” she asked.

Lizzie and Anjali went to sit on the back steps of the house. Oscar lay down by their feet. “I have a favor to ask you,” said Anjali, reaching out to scratch Oscar between the ears.

“Me?” said Lizzie. “Sure. Anything.”

“I was wondering if I could keep Oscar for a while,” Anjali said. “I — I just miss Ginger so much. And somehow, after all that time they spent together, I feel like Oscar has some of her spirit. I think he would be a comfort to me — just the way he was to her.” Oscar seemed to sense what she was saying. He stood up and put his head on Anjali’s lap.

“Of course,” said Lizzie. “I was actually wondering if you might be interested in adopting him, but I thought it was too soon.”

“Well, I can’t promise for sure right now,” said Anjali, smiling down at Oscar, “but my guess is that if he comes for a few days, he’ll end up staying forever. I understand that he needs some help learning to get along with other dogs, but I’d be willing to put in the time to work on that. It would be a good distraction for me.”

Lizzie reached into her pocket for another tissue. She was crying again, but this time her tears were happy ones.

“Are you okay?” Suddenly, Maria was at Lizzie’s side.

Lizzie nodded and blew her nose into a tissue. “I’m fine,” she said. She told her friend that Oscar was going to stay with Anjali for a while.

Lizzie and Maria turned to look at Anjali, who was kneeling to hug the wiry little pup. Oscar licked Anjali’s face and wagged his stumpy tail.

“I think Oscar may have found the perfect home,” said Lizzie and Maria at exactly the same time.

“Pickle Jinx!” yelled Maria.

Lizzie smiled. She didn’t have to think hard to come up with the name she’d like Maria to call her. “Best Friend Forever,” she said.