No one could remember when they’d had more fun at a practice. With Lucky watching like a hawk from the sidelines, Lou and the others were much more careful about staying onside. At the end of practice, Lou even showed how Lucky could head the ball.
“He heads better than you do, Amanda!” Eddie said with a grin.
The ’Cats all headed for home tired but happy. No one was as happy as Lou, though. Everyone had treated Lucky as if he were Lou’s dog. He’d liked that a lot.
Lou was whistling as he turned the corner onto his street. Then he stopped short. There was a car in his driveway. He’d never seen it before, but he knew right away who it belonged to: Lucky’s real owner.
Lou wanted to run back to the field. Instead, he crossed the street and went into his house.
“Lou? Is that you?” his mother called from the kitchen. Lou hesitated, but Lucky didn’t. He barreled down the hall and right to his water dish on the kitchen floor. Lou followed much more slowly.
Seated at the kitchen table were two men, one young and one old. The old one gave Lou a gentle smile.
“Hello, Lou,” he said. He pointed to the young man. “That’s Roger, and I’m Ben Wakefield.” He held out his hand for Lou to shake.
Lou hated shaking hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be friendly. But people always held out their right hands. Lou’s right hand was the paralyzed one. It was hard for him to shake hands with it. But if he held out his left hand instead, people always looked confused and embarrassed.
He was trying to decide what to do when, with a start, he saw that Mr. Wakefield was sitting in a wheelchair. Lou blinked. He knew how he liked to be treated when people saw he was a little different. He figured Mr. Wakefield would want to be treated that way, too. So Lou lifted his paralyzed arm and put his hand into Mr. Wakefield’s with a warm smile. Mr. Wakefield’s smile widened.
“Woof!”
Lou jumped. For a moment, he’d forgotten all about Lucky. Now he couldn’t help but remember why Mr. Wakefield was there.
“Come here, boy,” Mr. Wakefield called softly. Lucky padded over and put his head in Mr. Wakefield’s lap. Mr. Wakefield stroked Lucky’s head.
“You’ve taken fine care of him, Lou,” he said. “I hope I’ll be able to do the same.”
Lou was confused. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Weren’t you the one taking care of him before me?”
Mr. Wakefield shook his head. “Lucky is my son Jeff’s dog,” he said. “But Jeff was just transferred overseas. So Lucky’s come to live with me until Jeff returns home in a few months.”
“Oh,” said Lou. He felt as if his whole world had just collapsed.
