The Wrong Dog

Last Saturday afternoon, Ben's neighbor, Mrs. Parker, knocked on his door. She looked worried.

"Ben, I have a doctor's appointment at three," she said. "Can you walk Biscuit for me? I'll be home by four, and I can pay you ten dollars."

Ben was sixteen, and he wanted money for a new video game, so he said yes.

Biscuit was a small white dog with a red collar. He was very friendly. Ben walked him to the park at the end of their street.

The park was busy. There were a lot of children, families and dogs. Ben stopped next to the lake and looked at his phone for a minute.

Suddenly, Biscuit pulled hard. There was another small white dog next to the lake, and the two dogs jumped and played in the grass. They went around and around Ben's legs, and soon the two leashes were all tangled up.

A girl in a green jacket laughed. "I'm so sorry!" she said. "Lola loves other dogs."

"That's OK," Ben answered. He helped her untangle the leashes, and then they talked for a few minutes about school and music. Her name was Maya, and she liked the same music as Ben.

Then Maya looked at her watch. "Oh no, I'm late! Bye!" she said, and she hurried away with her dog.

Ben walked home happily. At Mrs. Parker's door, he stopped. Something was wrong. The dog's collar was blue, not red.

"Biscuit?" Ben called. The dog didn't move.

"Lola?" Ben tried. The dog jumped up and licked his hand.

"Oh no," Ben said. "You're not Biscuit!"

It was three thirty. Ben had only thirty minutes.

Ben looked at the blue collar. There was a small metal tag on it with a name and a phone number: "LOLA. Please call 555-0193." Ben called the number.

"Hello?" said a voice. It was Maya.

"Hi, it's Ben, from the park," Ben said. "I think I have your dog."

Maya laughed. "I know! And I have yours. He doesn't answer to 'Lola,' and he doesn't like my cat."

Ten minutes later, Ben and Lola were at the park gate. Maya was there with Biscuit. Lola jumped into Maya's arms, and Biscuit jumped into Ben's.

"Next time, let's check the collars," Maya said with a smile.

Ben hurried home. At three fifty-eight, he was at Mrs. Parker's door with Biscuit. At four o'clock, Mrs. Parker's car arrived.

"Was he a good boy?" she asked.

"Perfect," Ben answered.

Mrs. Parker handed him ten dollars. Ben smiled. He had ten dollars, but he also had something better: Maya's phone number.