I bust my ass (quite literally) in hot yoga a few times a week. I strategically avoid knocking down my neighbor, trying to perfect a head stand (while secretly hoping no other drop of sweat but my own hits my mat -eeeeeeww!). When I get antsy and know that my sweaty leg will no doubt hit some poor soul’s head, I wait until I get home to show off for Ted.
Last night after class, I came home to perfect my tri-pod head stand. Little did I know I had my own yoga master under my own roof. While I was showing Mr. Bear my moves, he yawned, made eye contact with me, holding my gaze and slid his back leg up through his two front paws. WTF?!
Then when I asked him how in the hell he did the pose, he stretched even further by laying his head down on all three limbs. BITCH! I can barely get my forehead to my knee (he obviously doesn’t get his flexibility from me).
When I pleaded with this show off one more time, he simply opened his eyes (I actually think I saw Teddy roll his eyes at me. AT ME!), yawned like a lion and took a nap.
So there’s how you get your cat to teach you yoga. You don’t.
But this has earned Ted a new nickname – Yogi Bear-a – it’s all he’d answer to last night. Diva!