When My Dog Broke a Window and the Internet Put Us on Trial

red hands into Barnaby’s thick neck fur. “He’s like a heater,” the boy whispered.

That broke me a little. Not “he’s fluffy.” He’s like a heater.

We saw the kid, Jackson, every morning after that. I started noticing the details. The backpack that looked like it held everything he owned. The fact that he was washing his face in the park’s water fountain.continue reading …