Dogged Determination
When I was serving on the mission field in Thailand, I spent about four years of my time there living at the Mission Home in Bangkok. This is a place where missionaries in transit, or who just needed to get away for a bit, can come and stay. The facility is a small compound located in a poor, urban part of the city, surrounded by dirty streets lined with small shops and food stalls located under people’s homes. 
The streets are filled with tons of noisy motorcycles, cars, tuk-tuks (three wheeled motorcycle taxis), song-tews (pick-up truck taxis) and foot traffic. And lots of street dogs.
Since this was my new home, I decided to kill two birds with one stone: I would get to know the neighborhood and get some exercise by going for daily walks.
Each morning, as I exited the gate, I was met with the sights, sounds, and smells of Bangkok. I enjoyed the friendly people, colorful fruit stands, and the smell of stir-fried noodles, papaya salad, and other delicious foods. What I did not like were the street dogs! Now, for the most part, they were not aggressive. On the contrary, they were skittish and fearful. But they broke my heart. I am an animal lover, and it made me feel such pity and pain to see these half-starved, mangy dogs, struggling to live.
On my third day of walking, I passed one of the many Thai Temples sprinkled throughout the city. The gleaming gold building, covered with a mosaic of colorful mirrors, lay inside a green, tree-laden courtyard surrounded by an iron fence. There, just inside the open gate, was an adorable little puppy. I was not surprised, as Thai people often leave puppies at the temples, hoping that the monks will feed them rice and take care of them.
As I paused, she came out to greet me. Well, this tiny, brown and black fur-ball was just so cute, I just had to reach down and pet her. I knew she was dirty and full of flees, but I just couldn’t help myself! After a quick pet (I did not dare to pick her up!-Who knew what diseases she might have?), I turned to go on my way-alone. But she had a different idea.
I headed down the street, and she followed close behind me. I encouraged her to go back, and finally had to pick her up and placed her back inside the gate. But no, that was not her plan. No matter what I did, she followed. I figured that if I got ahead a bit, she would give up and go back. But no way. She kept following, working her little legs as fast as she could.
As I turned a corner, I looked back to see if she was still following. She was. There were two Thai men sitting on motorcycles by the side of the road, and when they saw what was happening with this crazy foreign woman, they starting laughing. What was I to do?
Suddenly, a motorcycle rounded the corner, almost on top of the puppy. She leapt away at the last second, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed over and quickly, but gingerly, picked her up and carried her at arm’s length over to the sidewalk, where I put her back down. She had won my heart. But now what? I couldn’t carry her home. She had too many fleas! So, I decided to slow my pace and keep a watchful eye on her.
As I continued on my way, that sweet little puppy became my little dog-shaped shadow, following me well over a mile until I arrived home. Little Toffee’s persistence had accomplished her goal. From then on, Toffee, the temple dog, became Toffee, the Mission Home Dog.