If anyone ever again tries to convince me that my dogs aren't aware of every move I make, everything I do, and my every thought - I have the perfect anecdote to contradict their ignorance.
This morning I was working out. I do not enjoy working out. I enjoy eating chocolate. So I work out. Anyway, the dogs and I have a routine - they have a couple of doggie beds near the "gym" in our basement (okay, it's an area we keep clear of clutter immediately in front of the tv where we play the workout tapes). I go work out - they take a nap.
Roc, my little Brussels Griffon boy, is my "velcro" dog. I never have to look for Roc, he is where I am at all times. This morning, I was doing a stretch after some push-ups. Picture me, sweating and panting, sitting on my shins, stretching shoulders and neck. Roc comes over and sits squarely in front of me, rolls his shoulders back and stretches his chin to the ceiling. On the tv the instructor says do it again. I do it again. Roc does it again! I didn't really believe it was deliberate. So I did it again - and so did Roc. My little helper boy.
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