Rory and I were passed by a jogging dog and his human this morning in Central Park and, as always, I tried to read the dog’s mind.
(Not that yoga’s competitive…yeah, right.)
Did he scorn my dog’s meandering pace? His aimless sniffing and peeing?
Or was that really a look of longing? Did Rory’s relaxing walk spark a memory from his puppy days, when mornings didn’t include a mandatory three-mile run?
Perhaps he was just in the zone. Focused. Wired in. Didn’t see me or Rory at all……