Husband singing to dog in the kitchen

I stayed downstairs last night on the sofa, without really sleeping much, because I had intense nausea. I still feel crappy. My husband came down a little bit ago and brought me another blanket, so now I'm warm and cozy. And I hear him in the kitchen, singing and talking to the dog as he makes himself some breakfast. Even though I'm really tired and now with the extra blanket might actually be able to sleep a little and the singing is keeping me up, it's also making me grin.

It makes me extra-happy because this dog was originally my husband's, but I didn't know how he'd adjust to having an indoor dog. In his home country, she lived in a narrow, fenced side-yard that ran alongside his house. He'd pulled her from a pound where she was going to be put down, but where he lived, people don't really keep dogs inside the house (when we went back to get her, his mom asked six or seven times if we were sure the dog was really going to live inside the house with us). So for years the dog just lived in that little yard, with food and water but never a lot of attention. Because it wasn't really in his cultural vocabulary or lived experience, I wasn't sure what kind of pet parent my husband would turn out to be, but he really took to it. He takes really good care of her, but also sends me pictures of her sleeping by his side in her little bed when he's working at his desk. And now he's singing to her in the kitchen, making me smile when I should be sleeping.