Okay. So now I’ve met and befriended the bloke in the tent.
Iiii know. Watch for the Forensic Files show about me being murdered. Zuma likes him. He’s “on the road”, a traveler. He says he’s moving on to KY or TN as he is down to his last ten bucks and can’t afford to stay here ($30.00 a night for a tent site).
I put together a bag of food for him – a “tuck box” we call it in England: buns, cheese, tea, fruit and a big bar of chocolate. He’s hit upon hard times and really is a good soul. If Kelly and I disappear, I totally misjudged his character. He was appreciative of the food and gave me a hug. I feel good that I helped him. He is leaving today.
When I look at Zuma lounging in front of the heater these rainy nights and the feral cats hunkering under buildings, I think how fortunate they are and I feel badly that a human being has to suffer.
There are many transients in Savannah; at Forsythe Park we’ve seen a huge food kitchen set up on Saturday mornings and on Sunday mornings, coffee and donuts. Doug and I were even invited in for snacks. “Do we look homeless?” Doug asked me. When I went to the car and checked out my hair-do, after battling the wind on our walk, I had to wonder.