Rascal (4 page)

This place was great! Rascal loved being around all the other dogs. But what was the point if he
couldn't play with them? What could possibly be more important than playing?

“Okay, now ask your dog to sit,” said Jamie.

“Sit!” chorused all the owners. Four dogs sat. But the Lab puppy fell down and rolled over. Rascal started barking and jumping up and down. The German shepherd puppy backed up and stood there, twitching his big ears and staring at Rascal. The dachshund sniffed the floor. Charles, whose turn it was to hold Rascal's leash, looked helplessly at Lizzie.

Jamie ignored Rascal. “Great!” she said. “Now, put your hand out and raise the palm so it's facing the dog. Now tell your dog to stay.”

“Stay!” everyone said. Charles said it, too. Lizzie doubted whether Rascal could hear the command. The puppy was too busy barking.

“And one, and two, and —
okay
!” said Jamie.

All the dog owners said the release word — “Okay!” — and the dogs jumped up, tails wagging.

Rascal just kept bouncing and barking.

“Well, I think that's about all the time we have tonight,” Jamie said, checking the clock on the wall. “See you all next time!”

Lizzie and Charles were heading outside when Jamie stopped them at the door. “I really hate to say this,” she said, with a very serious look on her face, “but I don't think Rascal is . . . well, I don't think he's fitting in here. I thought we could help him, but he is making it hard for the other dogs to learn. I'm afraid I have to ask you not to bring him to class anymore.”

Lizzie looked down at her sneakers. She'd known this was going to happen. Rascal was getting kicked out of puppy kindergarten.

“If you'd like, you can bring him in for some private lessons,” Jamie went on, in a gentle voice. “But to tell you the truth, he'd need a ton of training to be the right dog for a regular house and family. He may need a different kind of home.”

Lizzie looked at her, and then down at Rascal.
What was Jamie saying? Did she mean that Rascal could
never
learn to behave? But then how could the Petersons ever find him a good home? What kind of foster family
were
they, if they couldn't help Rascal?

Rascal wondered why the people were being so serious. They had been having such a good time! Jumping and barking and playing. Why was the girl looking at him that way?

“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?”

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.