I wonder if
I sat in the kitchen working at my laptop, completely engrossed in my work, when I heard my husband JJ enter the room. “Will that bloody dog never shut up?” he said angrily, nodding toward the house next door. I glanced up and saw him standing in the doorway, clad only in the plush, white towel wrapped around his waist. His dark curly hair was still damp from his shower and he stood there with a frown on his face that actually made him look cute to me. “Awww baby,” I pouted, putting on my best bimbo voice and expression, “does that mean we can’t get a doggy woggy?” While outwardly I was being playful, inside my tummy was churning, as I knew that those plaintive howling sounds were from Hector, our next-door neighbour’s Great …