Through my lane at the store not long ago came a mother in her mid-30s, a cart overflowing with groceries, and a dark-haired boy of five sitting on the cart shelf.
“Hi, Miss” I say as she pulls up. She pulls down her mask, grins at me, and mouths “I’m telling a story.”
And so she is. The story goes like this:
The dog stayed close to the boy, each protect…