Kooky Lucy Frost (10)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (10)"
   
   Cleveland was laying at Kooky Lucy's feet as she sat upon Pap's couch feeding him doggy vitamins to lubricate his hip joints.  The omnivorous canine wasn't yet 10 years old; still, he would limp a bit here and there, and as Lucy Frost's best and only friend for the past decade, she just couldn't comprehend life without him, but had no money to take him to the Dog Doc, and Pap had already done so much for her; thus, asking him would further ignite more guilt--she had always felt guilty in life.  Guilty for being pretty, guilty for being able to make her own comic books, which she had never shown to anybody, and very guilty in not being able to make friends.
   Pap, sitting across from her in his Archie Bunker-styled chair and smoking a cigarette, as if through a great, empathetic telepathy; plus, empirical knowledge, having observed that Cleveland limped her and there, politely asked:  "You want me to make Cleveland an appointment to see a vet?"
   Lucy's forest-green eyes swirled in fear, her saying:  "Oh no Pap; he'll be fine."
   Pap was like:  "Oh come on Lucy--your best pal needs a check-up.  Don't feel guilty.  Don't ever feel guilty.  We are both family, and family are those that do the will of God.  I'm just an old, lonely man--happy to have your company, and happy to help.  People can read you Lucy, and you could read them--if you would just not resist the fear, but let Christ glow inside of you; next, your fears would be afraid of you.  Look, I'll tell you what--we go to the Orthodox Church today, take the Eucharist, and tomorrow we'll run up to the vet and get Cleveland checked out; then, we can both get haircuts."
   "Why are you doing all this for me?"  Lucy asked honestly, in her mind.
   Pap blew a smoke ring, saying:  "Because there is nobody more deserving I know than you."
   Lucy Frost blushed, never having felt so much love before, except from Cleveland, her best pal.