I'm full today with a handful of people, but not many customers. The families that work here seem to be getting more comfortable in their work. Today Charlie went into the hobby shop to do her writing on Leo's workbench. Leo had his gas helicopter in repairs on the classroom table, where their daughter, Chris, has two school projects spread out. Their friend, Nan, is here today with her son Kosai. Nan is the only one helping customers. Kosai also has homework he is doing at the counter.

School buildings have told me how much paper passes through their doors in a year, but until I saw these two kids working, I thought they were exaggerating.

In the very middle of my loading zone, in the three story opening of this warehouse, Charlie built the sales counter. It is a large U shape, where customers can stand at either outer arm. One arm ends in a large round shape where people regularly gather at stools and chat.

I've heard the old sugar plantation homes talk about how people gathered at a table and talked story. But I never thought I, a warehouse, would get to see it happening.

It's here. The dog is inside of me, and it tickles! It seems to be trying to stay low and sneak around. It looks very afraid. It's following Charlie everywhere. When Charlie went upstairs to turn on my lights and fans, the dog wouldn't follow her up the steps. She carried it up and it ran around with her up here, but then it wouldn't go down the steps. Who hasn't seen steps? Maybe it's a stupid dog. Maybe all dogs are stupid?

This dog, uh, Jack, is stuck to Charlie like a shadow. It's black like a shadow too. It's sleeping now, like it has done for most of the day. It's sleeping under a display table, way under, on a cushion that Charlie put there with a small note above him "I'm Jack. Please pet me." I'll bet he hates that note! He doesn't look like he wants anyone to pet him.

Whenever Jack passes the balls of yarn and skeins of wool in the yarn room, I see him glance at the fuzzier ones. Charlie hasn't noticed it yet, because the dog is always behind her when he looks. He does the same thing with Sebastian, the bear that sits on the entry table with the fancy candles and the note about kids. The note says that unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy. This morning Charlie crossed out the puppy part.

Oh no! Charlie just went into the restroom, and Jack didn't follow her in. He looks lost and frightened. He looks like he's going to pee on my floor. No, no, bad dog. Wait, he's going for his little bed under the table. Oh phew. My floor is safe. Wait, Jack has stopped to pick up Sebastian in his mouth, carefully. Now he's carrying the stuffed bear over to his bed. Oh look, he has the bear curled up under his paw and chin. I'll bet Charlie's going to give him a scolding!

Here she comes.

"Oh, say. There you are you silly dog!"

She petting him! That's not the way to train a dog.

"Look at you! You got yourself a bear. Sebastian is pretty slobbery now. I think he's yours. But no more shopping, please."

Jack looks like he understands her, but I'll bet he doesn't. I'll bet the yarn is next. Still, it's awfully sweet the way he looks at Charlie with such trust.

And the bear suits him.

Leo and Charlie talked today about Charlie's visit to another structure. She went to a facility built to shelter many animals, called the Humane Society. Charlie said, "I went there to visit and pass out some affection."

Leo asked, "Meet anybody to take home?"

Charlie looked surprised. She hesitated, "There was one pup -- they list him as full-grown but I'll bet he's about a year old. He's a border collie mix named Jack. He's very shy. He acts like he has been hurt a lot, beaten or something."

"Why don't you go get him? You could go early to pick up the kids from school and get the dog."

"I uh..." Charlie sat down. "I really went just to visit. But, he is a sweet dog. I would intend to bring him here to the shop every day, if we got him..."

(That's me, I found out: "The Shop.")

I tuned out the generator humming next door and listened more carefully. Would I get to contain a dog? A shop dog? Neither of them spoke. I waited to see if they would decide, but they didn't say anymore. So, I guess I don't get to see a dog from my insides after all.

Later, Charlie brought it up again. "I think I'd like to visit Jack again and then sleep on it."

"How long does it take to adopt him?" Leo asked.

"Since he's already neutered, we could take him home today."

"You could get him when you pick up the boys..."

"Is the High School before or after the shelter on the highway?"

"Before. What does he look like?"

"He's like the cattle-working dogs in the movies, smallish, long silky black hair with white spots on his back feet and a white blaze on his chest."

"Sounds good."

And then, again, they said nothing more about it! I wished that they would decide. And I was unsure of what I wanted them to decide. I've heard that dogs can sometimes stink up a building. I don't want to be stunk up.