He wants me to be his best friend...

One morning I discovered that someone was bringing me thoughtful little gifts - an empty can of corned beef, a coconut shell, a styrofoam container and a fork...a few days before that, someone had dragged Vic and Miriam's blue towel over to my welcome mat in front of my door. The next day, an empty bottle of water to complete my meal of the day before.

Then a T-shirt, in case I needed a change of clothes...

Then a few days later, as I was stretching to go on my run, something was thump, thump, thumping rhythmically on my door, so I got my camera, quietly unlocked the door and quickly pulled it open...

My little friend, who sleeps in the stairwell as I have passed by him for a month now, was wagging his tail. I have not fed him, or petted him, or made any overtures except to sometimes say hi.

He doesn't realize that missionaries are not allowed pets of any kind. But I have seen a Marshallese grounds worker befriend him and feed him, and I think the Hewstones do. We like each other, but he has to know that there can't be a future for us...:) I've lost two dogs on our highway at home - no more dogs to wrap my heart around...no matter how cute their little puppy face is. :)