I’m certain in the pet world that a well-rounded owner is the preferred status symbol. I think my pets want me fat. They weren’t bringing me Godiva chocolates, but they were doing their best to keep me from shedding weight. My two lazy dogs and lethargic cat have unified to stop me from exercising.
The first time I turned on an exercise tape, they came to watch because that is mainly what I was doing at the time. By the next day, I had psyched myself to exercise along with the tape. The high stepping cardio-vascular moves had the dogs barking in agitation. Perhaps I reminded them of a fleeing paperboy. When it was time for floor exercises, they laid down beside me boxing me in with their warm, smelly bodies. Each ab crunch earned a large tongue swipe from my oversized mutt. When I reached for my barbell, I grabbed the cat.
Thinking it was a fluke, I tried exercising the following day. Cautious, I locked the door to keep out my observers. Of course, I had to blast the volume because the dogs barked their opinion at their exclusion. The cat even climbed up the screen window distracting me from the lunges, which I didn’t mind being distracted from too much.
To fool my wayward pets, I worked out behind closed doors in different rooms. When they heard the music, they practically tore the house apart to reach me. My husband joked that they seemed to like the exercise routine or at least their part in it.
As far as being athletic, there wasn’t an active bone in the bunch. The cat’s most vigorous activity was climbing up the screen door when I was late with his food.
Every dog walk consisted of walking a few feet, engaging in a sniff fest, then squatting was the extent of the canines’ physical exertion. There was very little fat burning going on our walks, although I do have superior upper body strength from yanking on their leashes whenever they engaged in prolonged sniffing. It seemed as if they were auditioning for the part of the bloodhound on Mystery Theatre, without the baying or running after the criminal part.
My overly opinionated pets didn’t dissuade me from exercising. They became part of the routine. Chance, my Rottwieler-Boxer mix would lie across my belly to prevent me from arching my back when working on my triceps. Patti, my elderly spaniel, would stand by the weight bench, so I could pet her between sets. They knew how many reps I should do and would bark if I cut it short. They are great exercise partners because they never laugh when I fall off my balance ball.
However, I have caught them smirking.