It did not take long after the poo flinging incident for me to scuttle back into the affections of my adoring slave. It was whilst I was being showered in slobbery kisses that I began to think about the general restlessness that seems to have struck in the post Christmas period. It has come to my attention that there is an unnerving wave of people wanting to stop eating delicious things, start eating grass, drinking nut milk and leaping about in lycra. Incidentally, how does one milk a macadamia? Does it have hidden tiny teats?
Perspiration does not hold any fears for me, however I am sure there is a more dignified and less high octane way of achieving the state of physical well being that seems to be the ‘thing to do’ in January. My body is a furry temple and although I am in a reasonable state, I suppose no harm could be done by ensuring that I am in tip top spindle condition in body AND mind. Thus I am going to turn my attention away from my lithesome frame and focus on improving my mental wellbeing and overall zen like self – which can mean only one thing…yoga.
The tiny terror has a really spiffy arty friend who is incredibly zen like and once tried to teach her some basic yoga moves. It did not end well. Mind you, this friend also has the unenviable fame of being bitten by a bee. Minding her own business one sunny afternoon, she was savagely set upon by a particularly petulant bee, who proceeded to clamp down on her neck and sink its tiny mandibles into her. I suspect her veins may secretly flow with nectar and wonder if we could harvest this to make mead? *makes note in diary.
Back to the yoga. I am already proficient in the Downward Facing Dog as all good hounds are, and we all like a cheeky lunge in an evening, but I needed to have more of a grasp of the poses. I must say what a joy some of the names of the positions are! A Downward Plank, A Tortoise Pose, A Half Moon (I can do those *smirk). Another thing, there are quite a few different types of yoga to choose from! It is like trying to order a coffee or a gin now, it just isn’t straightforward.
It also was whilst reading up on this that I discovered the very disturbing practise of Doga…humans performing yoga with their dogs…”natural symbiotic relationship that already exist between you and your dog”. Really? I can’t think of anything more alarming than sharing a yoga mat with one of the loons that live with me.
I decided to put the book away when I got to the chapter where I was alarmed to discover what some yogis did with a fresh turmeric root in the name of well being and inner cleansing…well I am NOT doing that! Ever.
I suppose my bendy endeavour must begin where all good endeavours begin…with a suitable outfit! It is not usually my way to exhibit myself in spindle hugging lycra. Sometimes I feel, some parts of the anatomy are not best scrutinised up close, indeed should be kept hidden where they can, and if the situation is called for, the said particles can be unveiled with a fanfare and a shimmy to much applause and wonderment. I had to root through the tall one’s wardrobe to find a collection of abandoned lycra from his cycling days, from which I fashioned a leotard and matching headband and stole some of the shrimps leg warmers. My goodness I look the part!
I waited until I was alone one morning, donned my costume and began. It was whilst attempting my first shoulder stand that my left leg warmer (a tad loose if truth be told) lassoed an unexpected door handle and launched me down the step, where I then zoomed under the dining room table and crashed into the leather waistcoated, suspender clad, dressmaker’s dummy. The fedora was knocked off the dummy’s neck and delivered a glancing blow to my shoulder and skittered to an eventual halt. I am not ashamed to admit this, but during the incident I also did a small wee. I was not sure if I was truly ready to attempt the Tortoise. What did I learn from this? Well, I clearly need more space to arrange my spindly limbs whilst I throw some etherial shapes, but I also feel some pelvic floor exercises might benefit. Or maybe I should just buy some turmeric?
Please note that there was absolutely no desire to do a dry January. My paw becomes hermetically sealed to my sherry glass after 10pm. Have you a custard cream dipped in sherry? Think Cantucci dipped in Vin Santo.
3 thoughts on “Spindle Yogini”
Following my unfortunate faux pas with your Christmas Tree I wonder if I am still welcome in your increasingly wacky abode. You won’t catch me doing doga…..any post festive excesses are being managed by the endless pursuit of squirrelage
Your Gipsy Boy xx
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Shall we put the incident down to high spirits and general over excitement? You are of course always welcome my dear boy!
We sighthounds are naturally good at yoga – unlike humans, we don’t need classes. Annabelle has been going to classes for years and it doesn’t seem to have done her any good at all. Millie xx
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