Why Your Dog Always Wants to Practice Yoga With You


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Last Thursday night, I unrolled my yoga mat in my small New York City apartment, sunk my hips toward my heels in Child’s Pose, and heard it—the jangle of my poodle mix’s collar as she hopped off the sofa. It had been a long day, and I wanted to dim the city’s noise and find stillness in my practice. But my dog, Sukhi, had other plans.

Her paws hit the hardwood as she came at me from the other room while I took some slow breaths. By the time I was in Down Dog, there was a literal dog beneath me, rolling on her back in a blur of white fur. Sukhi always sparks joy in me, but tonight it was backlit with annoyance. I stepped over her to make my way to the top of the mat and she followed, romping near my toes. I moved through a Sun Salutation, trying to ignore her, but she was everywhere. I didn’t know how to find my balance or move my body with anything resembling grace when her furry body was intercepting all my intentions.

I finally gave in, thinking I’d incorporate Sukhi into my practice by dropping her a kiss on my way from Plank to Chaturanga. Instead she bounded at my face. If yoga was about connection to others, Sukhi was really going for it.

But what exactly is it about my yoga practice that draws her to me from whatever room she’s in?

Group Practice

Friends have also mentioned that as soon as they start to set up for yoga, their animal friends come running.

“My dog always comes over and tries to get belly rubs when I practice,” says Siri Newman, a Wyoming-based yoga teacher and practitioner.

“It’s mostly endearing,” says Lori Walker, a digital marketer and yoga practitioner, with a laugh. “Mostly.”

“My pets zoom underneath me at top speed if I’m in Down Dog!” says Kathryn Chaya Lubow, a Southern California therapist and yoga practitioner.

Many of us have seen videos on social media of pets inviting themselves onto the mat as their humans practice. One post of a cute Australian Shepard practicing alongside her human has had more than 90 thousand shares on Instagram.  (Was that the key? Getting your dog their own mat?)

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It’s almost uncanny.  No matter where our pets are hiding, once yoga practice starts, they tend to wriggle themselves in our way. But why? And how do other practitioners handle the cute madness?

More Than Just Playtime

“I’m not aware of any specific studies to evaluate this pattern of behavior in a scientific context,  but I think there are a few possible explanations,” says Christopher Pachel, a doctor of veterinary medicine and certified animal behavior consultant in Portland, Oregon, who also practices yoga.

“Many pets interpret their owner getting down on the floor as an invitation to play or to interact,” says Pachel. “And for humans who routinely practice yoga, it’s only going to take a few repetitions of ‘mat to yoga’ for most pets to figure out that the unrolling of the mat is a predictor of floor time activity.”

This helped me understand why setting up my mat and props brought Sukhi into the room from wherever she’d been hiding. It was almost as effective a way to get her to come to me as saying “treat!”

“Animals love to get involved with what you’re doing,” says Anthony Newman, dog behavior expert and founder of Calm Energy Dog Training. “They want to be included. And when you get on the ground, you’re getting on their ‘level,’  literally and figuratively. Being down low and moving in ways that are non-confrontational, inviting, and playful (including showing your belly) takes you out of a ‘leadership’ position. Around that, dogs feel more free.”

But it isn’t only the act of getting on the floor or unrolling a mat that draws animals to their person. Beyond the physicality of the practice of yoga, there seems to be something…more.

Adaptive yoga teacher and founder of online studio Auzho Audrey L practices on a chair, sofa or bed. Her pup, Ruby, still wants to be part of it. “The weirdest thing has to be when I’m on the sofa during meditation. She just sits at my feet and stares. And when I go to my practice chair she always finds me there,” says Audrey.

“Pets feel the shift in our energy,” says Olivia LaBarre, an animal communicator, Reiki practitioner, and pet loss bereavement specialist. “Our animal companions are very aware of our emotions, nervous system states, and overall energy, and they sense the shifts that happen when we begin a practice such as yoga.”

It seems a sense of ease and happiness in us is not only palpable to our pets but inviting.  “I do suspect that some dogs and cats pick up on breathwork, calmer energy, a focused mindset that typically go along with a yoga practice,” says Pachel. “They then seek out interactions with their caregivers at those times based on the positive vibes.”

How interesting that the yoga practice—accessible and available to all—can be felt throughout the animal realm, not just by humans. Maybe I wasn’t imagining it when I had thought my happier yoga vibes could be drawing Sukhi to the mat.

An Invitation

If animals can sense our energy, maybe we can use the practice of yoga to connect in new ways with our animal friends. Just as they affect us, we affect them. We can use the breathing and gentle movements to help calm our pets as we calm ourselves.

I keep going back to that old adage: what you resist persists. Framed that way, I took a second look at my practices with Sukhi. Instead of trying to rigidly adhere to my routine or urge her off the mat, I started to expand what my idea of a home yoga practice could be and challenge myself to take in Sukhi’s presence in my practice, no matter how wildly she shows up. Rather than just step around the situation, I allow it to bring my focus back to me.

It’s a different experience than practicing in a quiet studio for sure, but it lights my heart now that I’ve opened to it. And it reminds me of aspects of the practice that I’d  become disconnected from. Perhaps it’s a chance to be playful and to remind myself to take in the present moment and soften into it rather than hit a set number of Warrior poses. In the play is something profound.

When I adopted Sukhi from a Los Angeles shelter, she went without a name for two weeks. The staff had called her “Heidi,” but that didn’t seem to fit her. I wasn’t sure what name would until my favorite Sanskrit teacher suggested Sukhi, related to sukha, which translates to “happiness” and “ease.” Maybe that’s exactly what we’re intended to experience when we share our practice.

About Our Contributor

Sarah Herrington is a writer, poet, and teacher. She is the founder of OM Schooled kids yoga teacher trainings and Mindful Writing Workshops.





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