Growing up my family was in the business of taking in strays
you qualified if :
a family member no longer spoke to you
someone you loved recently died
friends were hard to come by
you were lacking in the family department
you were bored
Or you liked food and could handle a loud house.
But in these times — a stray friend knocking seems like a mooch at your door step, someone come to steal the peace.
However, I find that when I open my door wide anyway, they rarely seem that way for long.
Rather, they tend to make good company
As it stands, I am a stray now myself.
Maybe we were the strays the whole time.