You Lucky Dog (2 page)

And it seemed like he was going to get a chance to do just that. With three minutes left in the game, Stookie was racing down
the field with the ball. He glanced up at Lou, then jerked his head.

Lou was sure Stookie was signaling for him to head for the goal for a pass. He took off.

Lou was so focused on Stookie, he didn’t think to check out the field in front of him. He saw Stookie stop and control the
ball. Lou moved a few steps closer to the goal as Stookie pulled his leg back for the pass.

The pass was perfect. Lou had no trouble controlling the ball.
There’s no way I’m missing this one!
Lou thought gleefully. He aimed and kicked. Suddenly, a blur of movement caught
his eye. He heard a growl, and one second later, he was pulled to the ground!

Lou hit the turf hard. As he lay there, he heard the ref’s whistle. Then he heard laughter.

Stookie appeared at Lou’s side and helped him up. “What happened?” Lou asked, dazed.

“A dog knocked you down and ruined your shot,” Stookie replied.

“What?!” Lou couldn’t believe his ears.

“Afraid so,” Stookie said. He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry.

“But the ball was going in! There was no way I was going to miss that shot! The ref has to count the goal, right?”

Stookie shrugged. “I don’t think so. Besides, I think you were offside when I passed to you.”

Lou’s jaw dropped. He ran off the field to ask Coach Bradley. But the coach confirmed what Stookie said. The ball hadn’t gone
into the net, so it wasn’t a goal.

Lou was furious. “But — but —” he sputtered helplessly. Coach Bradley patted Lou’s shoulder and shook his head.

The ref had finally managed to shoo the dog off the field. A fan held on to him while the game played out its last minute.
When the buzzer sounded, the game ended in a tie.

“We should have won that game,” Lou fumed to Roy. “It’s all that stupid mutt’s fault.” The fan had let the dog go, and he
was running around the field again. Lou turned in disgust, picked up his lucky soccer ball, and started for home.

L
ou hadn’t gone more than two blocks when he heard a bark. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the dog running toward him. A
moment later, he was by Lou’s side.

“What do you want?” Lou yelled, stopping. “Get out of here!”

The dog sat down and looked up at him. His eyes were soft brown. One pointy ear stood straight up, while the other one flopped
to one side. His mouth was open, and it looked like he was laughing.

“Didn’t you hear me, mutt? I said, get out of here!”

The dog gave a bark, then jumped up and knocked the soccer ball out from under Lou’s arm. The ball landed on a crack in the
sidewalk and bounced sideways into the street.

“Hey!” Lou glared at the dog and started to step off the sidewalk.

All at once, the dog lunged at him. He caught hold of Lou’s soccer shirt and began to pull.

“What are you —” Lou started to shout. Just then, a huge truck barreled by them, blaring its horn. When the truck had passed,
the dog let go of Lou’s shirt.

The wind from the truck had blown Lou’s hair into his face. Heart hammering in his chest, Lou brushed it back. He stared at
the dog.

“You — you just saved my life, didn’t you?” he said shakily, kneeling down next to the dog. The dog licked his face.

When his heart had slowed back to normal, Lou stood up and retrieved his ball. With a glance at the dog, he started walking
back home again. The dog stayed at his side the whole way.

When they reached the house, Lou put his soccer ball on the front step and sat down. “Are you a stray?” he wondered. The dog
had no collar, but he looked too well fed to be a stray. And weren’t strays supposed to be mean?

“Well, if you’re not a stray, then where’d you come from?” Lou asked. The dog didn’t answer, of course. Instead, he nosed
the soccer ball closer to Lou and gave a short bark.

“You want to play?” Lou said, grinning.

“Okay!”

He opened the gate to their big backyard. The dog rushed through, barking happily, and ran to the far side of the yard. He
seemed to be waiting for something. With a shrug, Lou gave the soccer ball a kick toward him.

The dog jumped in front of it, trapping it with his paws. Then he quickly nosed it back to Lou before hurrying back to the
other end of the yard.

Lou was astonished. “Hey, where’d you learn to dribble like that?” He kicked the ball a second time. Again, the dog lunged
for it. This time, he batted the ball around with his paws a little longer before bringing it back to Lou.

“I don’t believe it,” Lou said, shaking his head. “Let’s see what else you can do!” He kicked the ball up in the air.

The ball arced toward the dog. The dog watched it carefully. As it started to drop, he ran underneath it.

“Watch out!” Lou cried.

B
ut Lou needn’t have worried. Moments before the ball hit him, the dog jumped up, caught the ball on his head, and sent it
rocketing back toward Lou. It came so fast, Lou couldn’t catch it.

“A perfect header!” Lou shouted as he ran to retrieve it. The dog chased him. “Oh, no you don’t!” Lou said, picking up speed.
“I’m going to get it first!”

Lou did get to the ball first, but the dog was close behind. Lou fell on the ball, and the dog fell on Lou. They tussled for
a moment. Then
the dog started licking Lou’s face. Lou collapsed in giggles and finally let go of the ball.

“You won’t hurt my ball, will you?” he cried as the dog pawed it, growling. “It’s lucky!”

The dog looked up suddenly and gave a bark.

“What is it, boy?” Lou asked. “Is it something I said? Was it the word ‘lucky’?” The dog barked again. Lou slapped his hand
to his head. “It
was
lucky! I bet your name is Lucky, isn’t it?!”

“Who are you talking to?” a voice behind him asked.

Lou turned to see his mother standing in the doorway.

Lou moved so his mother could see the dog. “This mutt.” He was about to tell her how the dog had saved his life. But at the
last second, he changed his mind. Sometimes his mother worried about him, because of his arm. Lou didn’t want her to think
there was anything to worry about.

“Er, this mutt followed me home,” he said instead. “I think his name is Lucky.” The dog looked up at Mrs. Barnes, his tongue
lolling out the side of his mouth.

Mrs. Barnes laughed. “He’s adorable,” she said. “And I bet he’s thirsty, too. I’ll get him some water.”

Lou was surprised. They didn’t have a pet. Lou had asked for a dog once, when he was five, but his parents had said it wasn’t
a good time for them to get a pet. Lou hadn’t brought it up again, and his parents had never offered to get him one. He’d
just figured they didn’t like animals that much. But maybe he was wrong.

His mother returned a moment later, carrying a pan of water. Lucky drank, sloshing some onto the grass. Mrs. Barnes sat down
next to Lou.

“No collar, huh?” she observed. Lou shook his head. She put an arm around his shoulders. “You know we can’t keep him, don’t
you?”

Lou looked at his shoes. “Yeah, I know. Because you and Dad don’t want to have pets, right?”

Mrs. Barnes’s eyes widened. “Whatever gave you that idea?” she said. “We can’t keep him because he obviously belongs to someone
else. That person is probably worried sick.” She reached out and patted Lucky’s back. “Wouldn’t you be?”

Lou knew she was right. Still, it made his throat tighten up knowing he might never see Lucky again. He’d only known him a
short while, but already he knew he loved him.

Lou stroked Lucky’s back. Lucky looked up at him, his muzzle dripping with water. Lou laughed and hugged him.

“I wish you were my dog,” he whispered into Lucky’s fur. Lucky rumbled deep in his chest.

T
he next day, Lou and his mother walked downtown to put up some posters they’d made the day before. The posters showed Lucky’s
picture with the word “Found” above it. Underneath was the Barnes’s phone number. Every time a shopkeeper let them tape one
up, Lou’s heart sank. If no one could see the posters, then Lucky’s real owner might not be able to find him.