The four-footed one decided to join me in my yoga posing this morning. She excelled through the downward dog as if she was built for it, probably because with her being a dog, she was. She stretched her legs with a grace I wish I had. Instead, I settled for being able to get a decent stretch, even if it looked less than elegant.
The one pose I can excel at compared to the four-footed one is the child’s pose. I suspect that the four-footed one’s disdain for this pose has more to do with the lack of movement than anything else. She is a creature of activity and energy.
She’d enjoy pilates far more than the gentle yoga that I turn to these days. Although, if given her choice, marathon running is more to her taste as distance and pacing are beyond her understanding. I leave those kinds of activities for her and Beloved.
I suspect she finds my yoga to be boring, joining me more for companionship than anything else. I am sure she’s not trying to show me up, although it may feel that way at times. Maybe she thinks that by showing me how straightforward it is, I will get the hang of it. She’s wrong if that’s the case.