There's a version of my life where I sit down at my desk each morning, coffee brewed and steaming, fingers poised over the keyboard, and write 2,000 words in peaceful, uninterrupted flow.
My cockapoo, Ziggy, has never once allowed that version to exist.
For those who don't know, Ziggy is my fur-baby. She's spoilt rotten and sweet as can be. But she also operates with the singular conviction that any moment I spend not looking at her is a personal insult. She manages to totally dismantle my...