Photo-Illustration: Jomkwan/ iStock/Getty Images
Hot Bod is a weekly exploration of fitness culture and its adjacent oddities.
When my boo’s dog, a sleepy Plott hound mix, stays at my house, his schedule rotates between three projects: napping on the bed, napping in the yard, and then napping on the floor to cool off from his hot yard nap. He follows two-minute bursts of energy by recovering for the rest of the hour. If he had things his way, we’d be stretched out in indolence all day while I dropped snacks on the ground next to his nose. He almost got his greatest wish.
But when I started to shelter in place and exercise around the house, the Plott hound discovered I was not as languid as he once assumed. He launched a full-scale inquisition. When I’d lunge around with weights or do bicycle crunches, he’d stare at me with telekinetic intensity. He would bark twice, then finally leap off the couch to rescue me from the floor.
As the weeks dragged on, I began to receive other reports of dogs trying to save their owners from exercise. Abby pouncing onto my friend’s