Our black Lab made the connection, the way dogs always seem to do. Henry went right up to the stranger, wagging his tail, and she began petting him. The child, who looked about 10 years old, was nicely dressed and waiting quietly outside our thrift store, where my wife was inside, searching for treasures. I assumed the little girl was a summer resident, perhaps from Greenwich, Conn., or some other wealthy town, and that her mother, like my wife, was also inside.