        She came back into the dining fly, and looked around curiously.  He noticed that her face was barely above the surface of the table—certainly not the best position for learning.  He considered offering her his camp chair for a moment, but there was no way she could sit in it, unless she sat on her rump, human-style.  Such a posture was probably anatomically impossible, although humorous to imagine.  I could fold the legs of the table in and we could work on the ground, he thought, before he noticed the cooler.  A relic of years past, it was a steel Coleman that probably could have supported one end of his car; it would have no trouble with her weight.