![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcV1sMGMHzsetgaFoZQexLvDeT6sBs55kQeEyh1dZtOANxyaRtobCP8ksfMBeZ9EHzceAdairV8nhBI0HjxcHVREeEk922NCR7ZOrxYGLpzjeHd8v3hXROKsR3JF412nBifLv8QpKL/s400/Luke+and+monkey+resize.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJD2UipPebdaSr4j0gKk3td2v1U_7SKQyNaLJv44DXa4G7INXV8NFLZWPh9w8mc8vsq5w63EQfqsro_HNxz_u8vrujahewvti4M_ZwaJFKKdsa-jouTx247z1_n_ot3hpQn4jOckuV/s400/luke+%26+monkey+2+resize.jpg)
We were invited to eat Sunday lunch a few weeks ago at a house near the Mennonite community. The family who invited us has a small orphanage, so there are a bunch of kids there, and a bunch of animals: horses, sheep, donkeys, dogs, chickens, etc. Even a little thing called a honey bear--which I didn't get to see, but my family told me it's more like a weasel.
Luke, our resident monkey, hit it off with the monkey there. The monkey preferred Luke over anyone else--we couldn't decide if it was because of being kindred spirits who prefer to spend alot of time high up in trees, or if it was the red hair.
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