imageI love dogs. I’m sure you know that. If my camera was working you would be enjoying a series of dog photos.

Near me, is the sweetest puppy. The street dogs here are always so sweet. They are the “original” dogs and are a breed called pariah dogs. Street dogs all over the world can trace back to this breed.

Sleek with pointy ears and long noses, a barrel chest in array of tawny colored, mottled brown, black and shepherd like markings some of these dogs have made transatlantic journeys to homes of yogis who have fell in love.

Some are horribly thin and mangled from car wreck, others are fairly well fed and I even saw two in a crude “cage” which I assume mans they are being protected from other dogs.

The travel agency I use is still feeding the same dog of three years ago. And when I asked if it was indeed the same dog, the owner smiled huge and said, Yes!. Biscuits and water. I do feel bad for street dogs around here where meat scraps are hard to come by.

MY little puppy this year, stays at the grocery where I just met the Deaf woman who works there- an extra exciting sideline. She, the pup, runs up to me with the slightest Kiss kiss sound and I swear she is grinning side to side anticipating a treat. She trots alongside me gently nibbling my fingers which I find the dogs do here and then she comes in front and places her delicate paws up o my belly ever so gentle as to say “Stop, I’m doing the best I can to be so cute.” I’m not even sure that she only wants food, though I have bought her a bag which she skillfully kept the other gathering strays from eating.

What is about many street dogs that brim with happiness and so much trust and joy? When I think of her, I smile. If that’s not yoga I don’t know what is.