Yoga with Dogs...and Cats

In my never ending but always short lived attempts to improve my health, both mental and physical, I occasionally attempt to do yoga. I’m not very good at it and my last real commitment to the pretzel twists of the body fell to the mat when the Oxygen channel dropped the 8 am airing of “Inhale” with Steve Ross. That leaves only a 6 am airing of the ever challenging yoga show. As much as I love to hear the eloquent quips of Steve Ross, the only thing I’ve ever managed to do at 6 am is have a death grip on a coffee cup. I have actually watched the 6 am show while clutching a cup of java but never stretched more than an arm muscle lifting the mug. He really is entertaining even if you are not stretching and sweating along with the stick thin Hollywood actors and actresses on the mats.

My first experience with yoga was with “Inhale”. I worked in the cable industry, myself having actually contributed a tiny bit of programming to Oxygen from Louisville (about the Derby of course). In a vocation chock full of men, my sisters in TV and I were excited about a whole channel predominantly run by women specifically for a female audience. As I recall, unless we were in the studio or field producing our own programming, we were tuning into Oxygen. And there I found Steve Ross.

While Oprah had just birthed her brain child, Oxygen on to the cable line up, I had just birthed a 9 lb 10oz child of my own. Sean was a big boy, surgically lifted from my body by a team of people I’ll never see again. My body had expanded to support such a hefty child in vitro and unfortunately that crowd of medical experts only took out the kid and put everything else back. My butt was huge and it needed something.

A Caesarean Section delivery was not going let me launch into an aerobic routine (even I was so inclined, which I wasn’t) and so yoga seemed to be the thing. Never mind that getting two kids out in the morning to daycare and myself to a job on time didn’t exactly lend itself to a peaceful hour doing yoga, I was gonna try.

There in the darkness, I lie with only the glow of the television illuminating the room. I stretched and surprisingly, sweated. Who knew the downward facing dog would be so much work? For a couple of days, I slugged through bad imitations of the camel, dog, lotus, camel and warrior poses. The real animal population of my house watched with amused and sometimes perplexed expressions. They surely had a good laugh. What would this silly human servant of theirs do next? Was I trying to lick my butt? A cat, Misha, came by and effortless showed me how to do that. The dog, Kayla came by and licked my face. Was it love, sympathy or just the inability to resist the salty sweat of my brow? A playful feline paw later tickled an outstretched toe. When I was cooling down the sweetest of our felines, Buster, climbed on to my chest. He apparently enjoyed the peaceful breathing because he began to purr most righteously. That became a regular thing with Buster but the final blow to my attempt came as I lay in the darkness, with a cat on my chest and the baby started his morning squall.

Flash forward seven years and the boy is now in first grade and my butt is bigger than ever. There was some attempt made with a children’s yoga tape but I got edged out by the kids who chose each other as partners. It actually proved too silly to keep my interest. My father-in-law’s girlfriend has given me a half hour yoga tape and my efforts are renewed. Some personnel changes have occurred, a new cat, Jet, and another dog, Piper the Jack Russell Terrorist, have joined the crew. Lilia’s Yoga features a not so entertaining host and almost milk toast moves (perfect for my wretched body) but it is an adequate start.
This morning as I dusted the hardwood floors with my body, an elderly dog watched from her cozy perch on the couch. Jet managed to position his long fluffy black tail beneath my head during abdominal stretches. I swear I saw a smirk beneath his elegant whiskers. Stretching and breathing, breathing and stretching, I was wishing and wondering if Buster (now a diabetic, acting old before his time) would join me. And then a greedy snout pushes my hand off my belly and demands attention. How could I be on the ground and not be petting Piper? It all seems odd to her since she is the center of her universe. Out of the corner of my eye, I see an orange figure saunter by. It’s Misha, he’s laughing because, of course, he is the center of the universe. He can lick his butt and doesn’t need a video tape or a cable channel to do it. Sometimes those humans just never learn. Maybe I’ll get up and check out Steve Ross in the morning…..maybe.