The Challenges of Yoga

Rodney Yee is telling me to feel my breath. I feel it. It is nice. Moving in and out of my chest, filing into the parts of my body that are stretching.

Downward facing dog. My eyes close as Rodney tells me to focus on the back of my legs. I'm thinking about how one day, even if I pull something, my goddamn heels are going to touch the ground, when something wet hits my face.

I open my eyes and see Parker, mutt extraordinaire, excitedly wagging his nub of a tail because there is finally room for him in the routine. He stands under me like we're playing London Bridge and it's time for it to fall down. He licks my face again.

It is time to put my right foot forward, left foot forward, for standing forward bend. Rodney says nothing about maneuvering around the dog obstacle.

I sternly suggest Parker find a bed and lay down. He dejectedly walks away.

And it is time to sit down. Cobbler's pose is my favorite.

Rodney, leading me through various poses, eventually tells me to lay on my stomach and prepare for cobra pose. My forehead meets the mat, and I start thinking that what Rodney is really telling me is to go back to sleep. Rodney says to slowly lift my chest forward and up. I do.

I am staring into a dog snout that is one quarter of an inch from my face, into pleading eyes so happy that I have finally noticed his presence, Parker laying on his side like a horse who has just finished rolling around in the dirt.

He scares the shit out of me.

Rodney tells me to slowly lower back down and prepare for another cobra pose. My forehead, once again, meets the mat. I feel weight near my head. Air, from a nose, blows into my hair. A low and sleepy moan escapes, but it does not belong to me.

I lift my chest again.

Parker, spooning his head against my head, fills the open space my lifting chest creates with his head and paws. His restlessness is mounting.

I know, buddy. I'm almost done.

Rodney tells me to slowly roll back down. My forehead lands on Parker's front paw. He has no intention of moving it. We stay this way until Rodney tells me to roll over for relaxation pose. I move the paw and roll over onto my back.

Ah. That's nice.

A paw lands on my head.

I remove it.

A paw lands on my face.

I remove that one, too.

A nose buries into my hair.

And, here we go.

Celie, the basset, is up and off her bed, heading towards me. She runs her face into my face. She runs around me, her tail repeatedly hits me in the face and head. Parker steps on my hair. Celie tries to climb onto my chest. They run around and over me. I twist, turn, lean away from them, but they are unrelenting in their we-demand-attention! rhetoric.

Rodney tells me to roll over onto my right side and use my hands to help me sit up. I can't, Rodney! I have two dogs vying for the best position from which to garner my attention and favor!

I hear Rodney tell me Namaste. I tell him Pawmaste and turn off the television.