Babs, the Downward Facing Dog

Babs doing Downward Dog?

This is a true story.
I was out very early one day, years ago, walking my dogs along the shore of Sylvan Lake in Hopewell Junction. Older ladies also enjoying the quiet of the dawn were either exercising or meditating. I wasn't quite sure which. They were silent in their activity and so graceful in their pose that they barely moved at all. The leader, a woman in a billowing white dress with movements as peaceful as the breeze, glanced my way and pointed to my dogs.

"Doga," she said in a whisper.

"No, Shih Tzu," I said.

"Doga," she repeated.

"No really, Shih Tzu," I replied a bit more earnestly. 

She finally gave up her act as the quiet yoga teacher and woke the rest of the guests staying lakeside in Circle Lodge.

"No, DOGA," she repeated loudly. "Yoga for Dogs. Doga!"

"Ah," I replied with amusement. 

I forgot about that conversation until just this week when Clinton Kelly from "The Chew" posted a picture of his dog, Mary, doing a yoga pose and called it Doga! Is that really a thing? Dogs can hold a pose?

Babs and Hannah in their favorite pose, sleeping together on a pillow

I don't think any of my dogs would have enjoyed yoga. I tried a yoga class last year with my daughter. The super slow movements and the quiet voices gave me the conniptions. I had little patience to listen to the breathing of the others and I couldn't seem to hold a pose that stretched my muscles in unnatural ways. It also didn't help that I couldn't get my body off the floor when it was over. At school, John offered a meditation and sound bath session for the teachers. This I did enjoy. I guess it all depends on the instructor. John Doyle, as the drama teacher, has a beautiful voice and I could listen to him all day. But I am still wary of gyms and exercise classes. I think it simply comes down to the fact that I am not an athlete. I paint and I type. I occasionally take a walk and try not to fall. That's about it. 

My dogs enjoy walking as all dogs do. Joyce, our neighbor at home and one of our best friends from our years at camp, said that every time dogs sniff a tree to discover what other furry friends might have passed by, they are actually checking their email! Now that's funny. I like walking the dog jokes. I can relate.

Babs and Hannah were not supposed to be on the grounds of our camp, but they really did not bother anyone. They were tiny dogs, they hardly barked and I walked them very early in the morning or after dark so as not to bother any of the campers. One night, I was walking them in another area of the camp, called the Maples. In my usual impatient ways, I looked down at Hannah with her fluffy white tail and told her to hurry up and do her business. I did not realize that Hannah walked the other way and I was actually talking to a skunk. In the dark, it was the same white fluffy tail. I was standing a foot away from a skunk, telling her to do her business. That's as silly as telling a skunk to do a downward facing dog. And just as silly as telling me to transition into a headstand.

My new Shih Tzu, Murray, who checks his email on every long walk would have a good laugh over that one.