I just didn't know if the timing was right for a new dog. We had put it off for a couple of months. We already had a prissy poodle-like house dog. A real cutesy. But he wanted a boy dog. Not necessarily a male dog but the kind of dog a boy can romp with and tussle with. A BIG dog. And he had just seen this commercial about the Humane Society and how you could adopt a dog. We told him we'd think about it. But first, we had soccer tryouts to worry about. He had been approached by his coach about trying out for club soccer. He was flattered and eager. We hadn't exactly discouraged him, but we knew about club soccer. We knew about contracts and cuts and phone calls in the night. We had heard about out-of-town tournaments and extra practices and sitting on the bench.

We talked about the competition and the intensity of the parents and kids. We talked about rejection and self-worth. We talked about life-after-soccer tryouts. The first cut was brutal. After a 45 minute workout the first day of tryouts, one club handed out 10 contracts. There was no need to come back. Not willing to drive all over the Dallas area every day for a week in pursuit of the perfect club, we didn't go to any other tryouts until the one in Richardson.

But....the dog again. Okay, okay. After the morning tryouts we would see about going to the Humane Society to look at the dogs. The tryouts were organized and systematic. The coach was positive and encouraging to all the boys and told them to wait for a phone call some time during the weekend. Again, we talked about rejection and self-worth. That afternoon we went to the Humane Society. We looked over all the dogs. There was this little brown dog with quite large paws. A dog to grow up with. A playful, loving mutt who took a liking to all members of our family. We had to sign papers and promise to care for this dog properly. The kids had to read the fine print and sign their names, too. They would call to set up an appointment to come out and check our yard and fence.

That night we received no phone calls. I asked my son if he would be upset if he didn't make the club. He reminded me that the coach had said the call might not come until the next day and besides, he would have a new dog, anyway. The next morning the phone rang. My son answered it and handed it over to his father. But not before listening in just long enough to find out who was on the other end. As he tossed the cordless handset across the room, he let out a "YES!" while pulling his elbow into his ribs. You know, the way the kids do now days instead of yelling a "Hurrah!"

Ready to offer a congratulatory high-five, I reached for my son. He threw his arms around my waist and squeezed. I tried to be casual as I asked him who was on the phone. "The Humane Society! They're coming today to check the yard!" And with that he raced outside.

He never got the other phone call. It was just as well, I assured myself. We really weren't intense enough and as driven as some of the other families. And besides, he so enjoyed all activities that he hadn't really focused on one enough to excel. Contracts, cuts, travel. Were these things a 10 year-old should really be worry about?

He lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He had already designed the best dog house in the whole world. And this dog would certainly need a good strong leash. And balls. Lots of balls! A name. He had to come up with a really neat name. He couldn't wait to call his friends in the morning.

Maybe the timing was perfect, after all.