When I was a kid, a friend of mine had a dog that just had some puppies and he said I could have one. I played with it all day and took it home with me. When my dad found out about it, he said that I couldn't have it and that I would have to take it back. I wanted that dog so bad. Heck I had even made up my mind that it was my dog already. I had a name for him and everything! I cried and threw a tantrum, but to no avail. My puppy still had to go back. Once he was gone, all I did was mope around the house all week long. I wanted that dog so bad.
Then one day, my dad brought home a Golden Retriever puppy just for me. I was ecstatic! He became my best friend in the world. I'd come home from school and he'd be there waiting for me at the door with his tail wagging and ready to do anything I wanted. All the other kids in the neighborhood liked him too. He kind of became the "neighborhood dog". He loved to play frisbee and would tag along with us on bike rides. It seemed like he was always there right by my side.
I never had a better friend than that first dog of mine. He was my constant companion for so many years. Looking back, I asked my dad why he wouldn't let me have the dog I brought home that day but then turned right around and brought home another dog the very next week? 
He said "I never wanted to keep you from having a dog, son. I wanted you to be happy. You may not have known it then but you see, the dog you brought home was a Pit Bull."
It's kind of funny how once I got another dog, I completely forgot about the one I thought I wanted.
[This message has been edited by Texas Bob (edited May 23, 2002).]
