Yoga and dogs don't always mix.
In the past, my dogs have often been confused by yoga. To them, me being down on the floor means playtime. Usually though, a few stern words and they get the hint and just lay down beside me, and I find solace in their presence.
Tonight was a different story. I got knocked out of tree pose. My hand was licked during a spinal twist. And the best part of all, a huge jolly ball was dropped on my belly during shivasana.
Laying there with the wind practically knocked out of me, I pondered the fact that you must be flexible in more than the physical sense to practice yoga. I ended my practice with a hip rub for the dog, who has hip dysplasia and was obviously jealous of the love I was giving my own muscles. He loves laying on my mat, which usually annoys me. But tonight I decided to go with the flow, and share the happiness that comes from limber muscles and a quiet mind.
Namaste (and woof!)