The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Unfortunately, I was never that great of a cook. I was about to be a grandmother. Of sorts. Not of actual human babies, mind you. That wouldn't have been possible as young as I am. No, my grands would be puppies. To be specific, they would be Yorkie Doodle's puppies. Bottom line, they were family. The trouble was convincing my boyfriend (and housemate) to accept the pitter-patter of an indefinite number of little pawed feet. I was afraid it wasn't going to be an easy sell. A little buttering up was in order. The way I figured it, one nice big bond runner captured, and I'd have the money to pay off our home in full. And that should put my man in a very good mood, right? It was a plan, anyway. And how hard could one bond capture be?