CAN MATTHEW COME OUT AND PLAY

In the sunny month of August, Ross and Judy moved to a tiny beach town called Carpinteria, just south of Santa Barbara. The ocean sparkled, the palm trees swayed, and every morning smelled like saltwater and sunshine.

They had two very loveable dogs. Nicci was a snowy Samoyed who walked like a queen. Matthew was a giant Saint Bernard who walked like a mountain. Even though he wasn’t fully grown, he already weighed 225 pounds—as much as a small pony!

Ross and Judy spent their days getting ready for Ross’s new sixth‑grade classroom. They also needed to get established with a doctor, but every doctor in nearby Santa Barbara was too busy taking care of movie stars and famous people who lived in Santa Barbara or Montecito.

Judy searched and searched, but no doctor had room for new patients.

Weeks passed. School started. Still no doctor.

One September evening, Ross and Judy were playing with Nicci and Matthew in their front yard. The sky was pink, the breeze was soft, and Matthew was rolling around like a giant, happy lad.

Suddenly, a shiny car rolled slowly down the street and stopped in front of their house.

A man leaned out the window. “Excuse me,” he called. “May my son pet your dogs?”

Before Ross could answer, Judy smiled and waved the boy over.

A seven‑year‑old burst out of the car like a rocket. He zoomed straight toward Matthew.

“Mark, wait!” his father shouted anxiously. “Come back!”

But Matthew trotted forward, tail wagging like a flag. He stopped right at the edge of the grass, stood perfectly still, and let the boy pet his giant head.

Mark giggled and hugged Matthew’s neck. Matthew flopped onto his back with a thump—belly up, paws dangling—begging for a tummy rub.

Mark laughed so hard he nearly fell over.

His father stepped out of the car, embarrassed, but still anxious. Nicci, the brave Samoyed, stood in front of him protectively. Judy called her back gently.

“It’s okay, Nicci,” she said. “He’s friendly.”

The man relaxed and introduced himself.

“My name is Doctor Wagner,” he said. “We live at the end of the street. That’s my son, Mark.”

Ross grinned. “Matthew, Mark… now we just need Luke and John!”

Everyone laughed—even Doctor Wagner.

Mark ran over. “Dad, can I stay and play with Matthew while you go do your errand?”

Doctor Wagner hesitated, but Judy was quicker.

“We’ll watch him,” she said. “And… are you accepting new patients? I’ve been searching everywhere for a doctor.”

Doctor Wagner blinked. Then he smiled.

“I’ll make room for you,” he said. “Even if my office says we’re full.”

He glanced nervously at Matthew. “He’s… very large. Could he hurt Mark by accident?”

Judy shook her head. “Matthew is gentle. He loves Mark already. If you take Mark away now, Matthew will probably try to climb into your car!”

Doctor Wagner looked at Matthew—who was right next to Mark, lovingly rubbing his body against the little boy—and laughed.

“Well,” he said, “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

He drove away, leaving Mark and Matthew rolling around in the grass like two best friends who had known each other forever.

And from that day on, almost every afternoon, the doorbell rang.

Ross or Judy would open the door, and there stood Mark with a big smile.

“Can Matthew come out and play?”

And Matthew always was. Actually, he was waiting by the door for Mark.