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I pick my way through the gaps between the mats, delicately stepping over Constance’s dog, Turtle, who’s already fast asleep, and Luna, Rachel’s small pup who is yapping at everyone like a drill Sergeant.
“Okay,” I say, reaching my mat and using a gentle gust of wind to blow away Chops’ toenails—paw nails?—and clapping my hands together to signal the start of class.
To the left of my mat, Ade is sat giggling and stroking Poppy, who is lapping at the water bowl with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Ade,” I groan. “Did you give Poppy tea again?”
“But Mama! It’s her favorite.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tell Helen.
“It’s okay. No one makes tea like Ade does. It’s Poppy’s favorite.”
“It’s the sugar and milk she likes the best.”
“Ade! You shouldn’t put sugar in her tea.”
“Mama, she’s old. She deserves it.”
“Lumi,” Helen interrupts, before I can scold my daughter who should know better. “It really is okay. Poppy loves coming to class just for the tea.”
I nod and give in. Poppy’s a nine-year-old, arthritis-ridden queen. She does deserve a little luxury.
“Let’s begin.” No sooner do the words leave my mouth than an almighty bark rings out. I swear the floor shakes under the force of it, and everyone turns to me in alarm.
“Erm that must be our newest members,” I say brightly, while inside I’m thinking shit, shit, shit why didn’t I ask what type of dog he has before saying we had room?
“Sorry I’m late! Peewee saw a squirrel as we were getting out of the truck, and so we took an unexpected detour.” Whit appears in the doorway holding a lead, covered in mud and rainwater. I have to say the look suits him. His blonde hair is tousled and dripping, his fitted jeans sticking to his legs like a second skin.
“That’s okay!” I smile, though I must admit it’s starting to feel a little forced around the edges. “Come in. Sorry, I didn’t ask what breed he is. Peewee did you say his name was?”
Whit steps into the studio and the...thing...that bounds in behind him is not a fucking dog. My jaw hits the floor as the entire doorway is filled by the bushiest, shaggiest mane I’ve ever seen. The animal is huge. It has to be at least 200 pounds. Its paws are the size of dinner plates.
“Erm,” I don’t know what to say.
“Don’t worry, we’ll just squeeze in at the back. You won’t notice wee Peewee and I are here.”
Wee? Wee fucking Peewee? Is that a joke? I’ve seen smaller animals on freaking safari!
“Mama, it looks like a bear crossed with a lion,” Ade whispers in awe. I nod my head, still speechless. “Can I stroke it?”
“No. We have a class to start.”
“Boo. What breed do you think it is?”
“A monster.”
“Actually, he’s a Giant Tibetan Mastiff,” Whit calls from the back of the room, obviously having heard Ade’s question and my response. “But he’s very well behaved.”
“Unless squirrels are around,” I quip with a tight smile, but Whit chuckles. Ade’s head whips back and forth between the two of us, a sly smile on her face that says she’s up to something. But I don’t have time to worry about that right now. The start of class is way overdue.
“Okay guys, so if you want to take a space in the center of your mat, spread your toes and bring your awareness to your breathing, we will begin….” My voice changes, taking on the slower, calmer tone I use to teach. It becomes almost hypnotic as I talk the class through our basic warm up, starting with Mountain pose and moving through a series of simple stretches to get the blood flowing.
It never ceases to amaze me that the dogs all settle down within a few minutes of the class actually starting. I walk around the class, giving encouragement to the students and attention to the pups.
“Lovely form today Mollie,” I say, pausing to pet Penny. “Now move forward into Downward-facing Dog.”
I pass Alicia who has brought both her dogs—Zeus, the 95 pound beast that thinks he’s a chihuahua, and Xena who eyeballs me shamelessly as she lets one rip. It’s so potent it brings tears to my eyes. I think something died inside her.
