Yoga Dogs

The dictionary defines yoga as any number of methods, or disciplines prescribed, especially a series of postures and breathing exercises practiced to achieve control of the body and mind, tranquility, etc.  Some practices even see it as a help to become in touch with the Divine.

To some, yoga looks like a lot of weird positions that sometimes looks as if one is trying to be a contortionist. But, in reality, yoga exercises build strength and increase flexibility.  Some say I'm just afraid of getting old, always trying to do young things.  Old, to me, is not the culprit.  Everyday my eyes open is another day to try again.  Losing mobility is the scary part and a strong inner body core is the ultimate warrior against an aging body.  After all, that's where all the parts are that keep the body functioning.  

Yoga positions have names that correlate with common figures and for me, make the pose easier to remember.  For instance, tree pose, child pose, corpse pose and mountain pose.  Then there are the poses named after animals, upward facing dog, downward facing dog, cobra pose, cat pose, cat arch pose and these too help to remind the practitioner exactly how to maneuver into position.

Recently, I was asked to care for a dog while its human was out of town.  It was only for three mornings and since I was familiar with the dog, I agreed.  I already walk each morning, so having a little bit of extra exercise and challenge could surely do no harm.  Vanna is a mixed breed, looking somewhat like a greyhound and whippet with perhaps a drop of pit bull in the brew.  She is much larger than Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, but they get along, as long as they follow their acknowledgement rule.  That being, they know each other is in the other's presence and as long as they keep their respective noses to themselves, all is well. 

The first two mornings past without incident.  The air was crisp and both dogs seemed to enjoy each other's company, even if that meant the constant competition of who would be the lead dog. 

The third morning started the same.  Runtly patiently waited for me to gather Vanna.  Runtly does not like to go into Vanna's living space for one reason.  There is a cat in there, Alvin, who is bigger than Runtly.  Runtly really does like cats, but when it comes to huge cats, he's happy with looking at them through the window.  The walking journey started out with a large curve in the road.  We had no more rounded said curve when Vanna spotted the lady, the lady with the small dog, about 20 yards ahead of us.  We were standing off the side of the road when she made her discovery, which in hindsight was a very good thing.  Vanna truly is a very nice dog, but there was something about this lady and that dog that sent a different message to her k-9 wavelengths. 

I'm standing with a dog lead in each hand.  These are the retractable kind, with 16 feet of leash.  I observe Vanna moving into aggressive mode as she starts to run, full bore, at the lady with the dog.  My mind quickly assesses the situation, my walking and yoga were going to pay off.  I planted both feet firmly in the earth and waited for the 16th foot of leash to be found.  

When Vanna hit the end of her leash, what followed seemed to happen in some sort of time warp.  My left arm was immediately hyper extended into warrior pose. Then I became airborne.   An expletive left my lips, during my flight, that started with an 's' and ended with a 't' and may have had an 'O' in the front of it, but I cannot attest to the accuracy of the 'O'.   The next thing I knew, I was on my back in the pose of 'upward facing human', giving a silent thanks that is was not truly corpse pose.

I still had a dog lead in each hand and I slowly raised my head.  The lady and the small dog are still there, her eyes as big as dinner plates and she asks me if I'm alright.  She can't help because Vanna is still in bad dog mode.  I apologize for the dog's bad behavior and tell her I think I'm fine.  Runly, not knowing what to do, begins to bark.  I take into account my body parts.  They all seems to be there and in working order.  Then, I try to get up.  That was nearly as great a challenge as trying to hold on to 60 pounds of charging dog. I managed to wallow around to being on all fours, cat position, and felt the wet muddy soil penetrating into my knees through my clean yoga pants.  

It was about this time, an older gentleman came around the end of his vehicle and asked if I needed help.  Runtly's barking had actually done some good.  My mind suddenly went back in time to a story.  It was a time when my Dad thought it would be a good idea to ride the neighbor's new motorcycle.  He road up the street and turned a corner to make his way back.  This particular corner, between two churches, always had a wash of pea gravel at the intersection.  Dad rode into the small rocks and the tires went with the gravel and Dad went down too.  There he was, his hand still on the throttle because he wasn't sure if he could start it if he let go.  As if on cue, a man stopped, helped him up and even retrieved Dad's hat and put it back on his head.  I looked up at this man, swallowed my pride and admitted that I did indeed, need his help.  At least my hat had stayed on. 

We finished the walk with no more points of interest.  Sadly, I knew I had to admit that walking Vanna again was probably not going to happen.  During the next couple of days, my body gave proof as to what muscles had actually been wakened from their deep sleep.  But, in order to fine something good out of the whole thing, I came up with a new exercise for my yoga routine.  I call it the 'double dog walk' and it consists of trying to get up from the floor without using my arms.

Taking The Time

If there is one thing that stands out, above all others, of the things I have learned while living in the city is that people come and people go.  This is most assuredly true when  it comes to apartment living.

Some people choose to live in an apartment for many years.  Then there are the ones who stay for a year or so, finally seeing their dreams come to fruition and purchase a home of their own.  There are people who stay for a month or two and leave in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.  Even though their lifestyle is so very different from my own, all these people have a story to tell.

We fell into the category of  'those who leave in the middle of the night' when we left the Atlanta area, but there are many times I think about the young boy I met there.  He was only about 11 years old and spent most of his time alone, entertaining himself.  He knew we were leaving and expressed sadness when I told him.  How I wish I had taken the time to jot down his address.  

A recent new acquaintance, a man with two small reddish brown dogs was such a joy.  He was well versed in the history and archaeology of Egypt, one of my favorite subjects.  We planned to get together some day so I could listen to all he had to share on that topic.  A few days ago, I noticed I had not seen him or the dogs in awhile.  Later I found out he was gone, a new opportunity had presented itself to him in the great state of Texas.  I certainly wished I had taken the time to make a date with him for coffee and tea and talk.

Once, I had a person contact me after I had written about my strange UFO sighting, another one of my favorite things.  This person wanted to share what they had seen, years ago, along with pictures and other notes taken at the time.  I put that meeting off and now the opportunity is lost for this life time because the person has passed. 

Surely we all have similar stories of missed chances.  It is probably not feasible to be able to keep track of, or in contact with, everyone who crosses our path in life.  Hopefully though, the next time I can learn some wonderful nuggets from someone else's life, I take the time to do it.