"Davey" brought us an injured pigeon today. First in a while.
Davey has been living on the street for at least a year. He's maybe 25? He likes to build with wood, and talks in a fast jumble.
He brings the birds to us; the cats to another woman.
This year he's started sleeping in our yard a few nights a week. So now I leave a small box of provisions out. Toiletries. Fruit. Granola bar. Water. A bit of cash. And a small tarp.
He worries about the animals, and I worry about him.