And then I hear a little yip. I look behind the big garbage can and there they are: Baby and the duffel bag. My heart leaps up. The little dog pulls his lips back and smiles right back at me!

I kneel down. “Morning, Baby,” I say softly. “Are you hungry?”

I take the napkin with the scrambled egg and toast out of my pocket and hold it out.

Oh so slowly, Baby leaves his bed on top of the duffel bag. He takes one step toward me and away from the bag, then another.

“Come on,” I coax. “Come eat.”

Baby looks back at the safety of his bed and at my hand holding the food. He holds up one dirty white paw with indecision. I know just how that feels.

“It’s okay,” I murmur to him the way Mama does to me when I’m sick or sad. “It’s okay, Baby.”

Using Mama’s comfort-voice works: Baby takes one big leap and lands right in my lap. He buries his little face in the food-filled napkin and eats.

“Oh my gosh,” Gabby breathes. “He’s so cute!”

I’d forgotten all about Gabby.

She squats down next to me. Baby glances up at her, gives his tail a quick wag, and goes right back to eating.

“Who does he belong to?” Gabby asks.

“This homeless lady named Jewel. I think they live here in the park.”

Gabby glances around. “Where is she?”

Very gently, I stroke Baby’s back. His fur is wiry in places and soft in others. “This other lady, Ree, told me that Jewel got real sick and had to be taken to the hospital.”

“Poor thing,” Gabby says. I’m not sure if she means the dog or the woman. I feel bad for both of them.

Gabby brightens. “Hey, maybe he could come with us while we look for leaves. I bet he’d like to play with us.”

But try as we might, Baby won’t leave Jewel’s bag. He perches on top of the old blue blanket and pins back his ears in what looks for all the world like an apology.

“Well, let’s go, then,” Gabby says, snapping her fingers. I’ve spent enough time with her now to know she does that when she’s antsy. “At least he’s had food.”

Then I remember what Ree said. “Hang on a sec.” I take the yogurt cup beside the duffel bag and fill it with clean water from the bathroom.

Baby wags his tail in thanks. “I’ll be back,” I promise. It’s hard to leave him. Truth is, I’d rather just hang out with Baby.