I am late in posting today. I didn’t have any idea of what to write about this morning – I had hoped to have some kind of wacky, interesting day where something would happen that I could blog about. But alas – a very regular type of day happened. Laundry, staining doors, some cleaning, grocery shopping, schlepping kids around type of day.

Between the laundry and grocery shopping, after the staining of doors but before the cleaning I decided to do a bit of yoga. Hoping to restart a good habit. This is challenging on so many levels.

Shall I regale you with the challenges of doing yoga in the home – the home which houses four dogs? The obvious solution would be to put them all outback for the duration. This is not a solution due to incessant barking and door scratching, which interferes with my ‘Namaste’. I am much more interested in my Namaste than they seem to be.

Some of my pack are of the velcro variety. I am not sure if this breed is recognized by the AKC, but a non-canine aficionado would be able to recognize one — it is the dog you are always tripping over, the one that is under your feet, the dog that is always near you, your man’s best friend dog – the dog you think you want when you think about having a dog. This type of dog feels that Namaste is reached by proximity — I have two of these types. According to them, I reached my Namaste before the dvd even started.

I shoved them out of the way with my feet. I maintained correct posture and only shoved while exhaling. Form is so important — a good way to avoid injury.

The instructor begins and so do I. Things are going well. It is all very pleasant – the dogs have lost interest and the stretches feel good.

And then the floor postures start. The dogs are suddenly wildly interested. What is she doing? Does she want to play? Maybe she needs us? All of us, all at once. I begin cursing and screaming at them. No namaste. I bet Rodney Yee never curses.

By the time the third floor pose had begun, the pack was convinced that my lying prone on the floor meant nothing to them – no food, no walk, no wrestling.

The instructor then moved us into standing forward bends. It was during the ironically titled ‘Downward Facing Dog’ that I noticed them. All the fur balls on my carpet. by furballs I am not using a cute euphemism for the dogs – by furballs I mean furballs

All of that rolling around on the carpet had worked like a lint brush – gathering up all sheddings like so many tumbleweeds.

It is hard to achieve Namaste while contemplating the filth on your carpet.