The dog and I were deep in conversation earlier today when my husband interrupted us, asking where his keys were. Does this only happen to me? Are other husbands as rude as mine? In fairness, it wasn’t a deep conversation; it was really just a cursory “How’s my baby doing? Do you wanna walk with me?”—you know, the standard conversational patter between good friends. Anyway, annoyed, we quickly left the house with AirPods in and leash in hand for a vigorous (well, maybe brisk) walk to continue our discussion in private. We quickly fell into our usual “walk, sniff, leash tug” rhythm and continued our conversation. However, this time, reinforcing the strength of our connection, the conversation was conducted more telepathically than verbally. I could sense he was more tired today than usual, wanting to explore the latest and most fragrant smells a bit closer to home. He knew that a leisurely stroll would work for me as I was 80% finished with The Hunter, a deep burn of an Irish mystery novel, and I just needed to get some steps in to justify the Starbucks tea latte I wanted. “Lots of smells today, huh?” I asked as we turned the corner, bracing ourselves against the cold wind. A hearty sniff followed by a nose-to-tail shuddering sneeze was the only response I got, but I’ve been long accustomed to reading between the lines, so I knew we were good. We completed our loop back to the house just as the fog rolled in, obscuring the surrounding hills and dropping the temperature to something more in line with a much warmer outfit than I was currently sporting. Once inside and warmed up, the daily “evening bark and stare” told me it was dinner time. “Hey, stop barking!” my husband yelled, interrupting us again as we were deciding between the chicken or lamb. Sooo rude…