Seamus was stretched out along the floor next to the sofa and I freaked the poor dog out by accidentally stepping on the end of his pizzle while trying to seat myself on the couch. (Nothing gets your heart rate going like 100 lbs of snarling canine fury erupting underneath you like a leviathan from the depths of your shag carpet.)
He got me back later. He was lying in the doorway between the kitchen and living room and decided to get up right as I was stepping over him.
Doing the splits has been a dream of mine since I was a little kid. Thanks, Seamus, for helping me achieve a fitness dream! Now, pass me the tylenol, ok?