Inter-species Yoga.

I read a friend’s blog about crying in front of pets. I don’t often cry, as it happens. I’d like to think it is because I have such steely sangfroid, but in reality I am a giant marshmallow of cry-babyishness. I get teary–eyed at commercials, if they’re good enough. I still get all verklempt at the MASH Christmas episode. The real reason I don’t cry mcuh is that crying is a migraine trigger, so I try not to. It’s never worth the pain. The thing is, if I do cry my puppies are totally different from hers in how they treat me.

First, they won’t let me alone, but in a kind and snuggly way. If I’m lying down they wiggle next to me and lay down with me, one on each side. If I’m sitting, they’ll lay on the floor pretty much on my feet if they can. And then, in a bit of dog-as-human action, the bigger one always rests one paw on a shoulder or, for reasons I can’t figure out, on my head. Which is weirdly human enough but the truly bizarre part is when if I pause and sigh or hiccup, they look at each other, and then at me and then back at each other. I don’t know if they just checking with each other that it is still just crying and not anything suicidal, or if they’re thinking I better stop soon so we can all play, but whichever it is it is unnerving coming from non-humans. Actually, I think having a human lay down next to me and rest a paw/hand on my head would also be unnerving. Regardless, there’s my “what the puppies do if I cry” bit.

Continuing in the same vein (the one that makes non-pet owners cringe, wondering why people keep insisting that their pets are human-like), after 40 minutes of yoga yesterday I decided to try a new pose. It has a name – which I’ve forgotten – but basically you lie on your back, and with your legs straight and together lift them up and over your head, behind you. They you stretch them up into the air, and pretty much balance on your shoulders. I figured I was as stretched as I’d ever be and it was time to give it a try. So I lay down on the floor which made both puppies look at me with interest. “Floor? Maybe she’s going to play something with us”. I managed (yes, I did) to get my legs over, and straight – didn’t even squeal in pain! – but at that point the big one, who was on the couch behind me, decided that clearly what I wanted was to have my feet licked. So she licked ‘em. I’m not ticklish but I was having balance problems as it was. Throwing in some foot licking threw core balance to the winds, and I started to teeter.

I guess the little one was worried that I’d fall, and that I needed help. So he jumped onto the mat and flopped down against my butt, bracing himself against me. Just to keep me safe. Which totally made me fall. Which made dog-on-the-couch decide that if there was going to be laughter and playing she had to join in. Instantly. So she jumped in. Literally. She jumped right off the couch over the coffee table and onto the yoga mat. In a single leap. And onto me. And onto the little dog. It then became a free for all tussle. The noise of which caused the boy working on the computer in the dining room to ask what was going on, as Yoga is normally a quiet occupation. Bar, of course, the occasional “are you KIDDING me?" comment, or the more common “if I HAD core muscles to help with the pose I’d be using them. Idiote (you have to say that in a totally condescending French accent to make it effective). I have occasionally given the screen the finger, when the coach is really bothering me, but neither child knows that. They already have plenty of therapist fodder thank you very much. I decided that the best – and only - answer was “Yoga is just louder if you do it with puppies. But it is better for you”.