How is that comfy? 4

How is that comfy? 4

How is that comfy? Honestly, I ask my dog this question every single day. He has an entire house filled with cozy spots—his big fluffy bed, the couch with soft pillows, even a blanket I specifically bought for him. Yet somehow, he chooses to curl up in the most awkward, uncomfortable-looking positions imaginable. I’ll walk into the room and find him half hanging off the arm of the couch, his back twisted, paws sticking straight up like he’s auditioning for some sort of doggie yoga competition. Or worse—he’ll wedge himself into a cardboard box that’s clearly three sizes too small, looking way too pleased with himself while I’m standing there scratching my head, wondering if that’s even safe for his spine.

But it’s not just dogs, right? Cats, too, are the ultimate experts at making us question reality. They’ll squeeze into a bathroom sink or balance on the edge of a narrow shelf, eyes closed, purring away as if it’s the most luxurious bed in the world. Meanwhile, I’m watching, worried they’ll fall or get stuck, while they couldn’t care less. It’s like they thrive on proving that comfort is a state of mind, not a matter of ergonomics.

And then I think about humans—we’re not much better. I’ve seen people fall asleep on airplanes with their necks bent at impossible angles, or snooze on a park bench with the sun glaring right into their faces. Comfort, apparently, isn’t always about fluffy pillows and perfect posture. Sometimes, it’s just about the feeling of safety, familiarity, or even the satisfaction of choosing that spot, no matter how ridiculous it looks.

So maybe “How is that comfy?” isn’t really the right question. Maybe the better question is, “What do they know about relaxation that I don’t?” Because while I’m busy worrying about finding the right mattress or fluffing my pillow just so, my dog is snoring upside down, four paws in the air, living his best life without a care in the world.