Chapter Thirteen #2
“Martha,” I said, a warning in my tone, not sure what else she’d pull out from her bag next that Chaos might decide to collect for his trophy collection.
“Thomas loves yoga,” she said firmly.
I had no response to that.
Gladys, having lost the kitten earlier to Theo, had decided to cultivate a personal relationship with the golden retriever, who was now lying fully across her lap.
“I can’t get up,” she announced in a tone that I couldn’t tell if she was amused or concerned.
“I’ll help—” Adam began to rise.
“Don’t wake Biscuit,” Gladys told him, frowning.
“That’s not his name,” a volunteer said.
“It is now,” Gladys replied.
Adam stayed put. Biscuit slept on. The volunteer let it go, which was probably the correct choice.
Chaos, having now thoroughly completed his investigation of the headband and found it wanting, dropped it where he stood and moved on.
He had other business to attend to. Next, he attempted to climb onto my father’s lap.
Dad, to his credit, simply held his forward fold, and pretended this was not happening.
Chaos reassessed the difficulty and decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.
Then the furry beast chewed on Adam’s shoe. Until he was distracted by Logan’s suit jacket, which was folded on a chair in the corner, and dragged it a full three feet before Logan noticed.
“That’s a good jacket,” Logan groaned.
Chaos stared at him.
“Please don’t,” Logan pleaded.
Chaos, in a shocking turn of events, dropped the jacket. Just like that. No negotiation. No incentive, no escalation. He just chose to stop, the way he’d chosen to start trouble, for reasons entirely his own.
What must it be like to live that way? To simply do things and stop doing things based purely on internal desire, with no plan, no awareness of how it affected anyone around you.
It looked exhausting. And also a bit freeing.
“Let’s sit up and stretch out onto our backs,” Cheryl quietly suggested.
The room had taken a more mellow tone, and the majority of the animals had stretched out beside participants.
“How is everyone feeling?” Delaney asked, walking through the room as everyone complied. Several animals followed, as if she’d been generating a low-frequency only they could detect. Even the beagle had given up his mat and trotted quietly behind her.
“Wonderful,” Gladys said from under the dog.
“Limber,” Glamma said, which for some reason made me cringe.
“Thomas is enjoying himself,” Martha answered, winking at the picture frame.
“I’m fine,” my dad said with a chuckle that was slightly muffled.
I did a double-take when I glanced his way. He was folded forward, and now had Chaos standing on his lower back with all four hooves planted, surveying the room from his elevated position with the composure of a gargoyle who’d found a suitable perch.
“Dad, let me help.” I stood.
“Leave him be. It’s actually a decent stretch.”
I stared at him, not sure if I should intervene anyway.
“Okay everyone. Savasana. Our final relaxation pose.”
I paused.
“Is that safe?” Adam asked from the floor, voicing my same objection.
I did a slow perusal of the room. “Probably not,” I answered honestly.
Everyone lay down anyway.
Gladys was pinned by Biscuit. Wyatt appeared to be negotiating lung capacity with another dog, who had made a permanent resting space decision about his chest. One cat walked the full length across Ellie’s back, like it was a ridge line, pausing at her hip to assess the view.
“Stormy is going to have a lot of feelings about this little kitty leaving behind some fur,” she giggled as she referenced the grumpy cat she’d rescued from the shelter last November.
Martha lifted her granola bar toward the other cat while Thomas observed. Before I could protest, a shelter volunteer scooped up the offending snack and tossed it out, avoiding Martha’s glare as she scurried away.
I lay down knowing that if something happened, I likely couldn’t have stopped it anyway.
Chaos stepped onto my chest, decidedly done with Dad. “What, he wasn’t still enough for you?” I taunted the little beast.
He circled, similar to a cat finding a spot in the sun, then lay down, digging his hooves into my sternum with pinpoint precision, and knowing him, it was intentional. Then he looked at me once with those unblinking demon eyes and sighed—big and loud and completely untroubled—and lowered his lids.
I stared at the ceiling.
Soft music moved through the room. The bright glow of the sun muted into paler shades as it moved across the sky.
Through it all, the gentle sound of Delaney’s voice walking everyone through the final deep breathwork was hypnotic.
She was steady, unhurried, and completely unbothered that our practice session had been a disaster from the start.
I ran a hand along Chaos’s spine, eventually letting my fingers dig into the scruff of his neck.
He huffed out a contented sigh, and my hand froze.
“This is not sustainable," I said quietly, to the ceiling, not expecting an answer.
Delaney’s laugh came from nearby.
“No,” she agreed, crouching down close enough that I could’ve seen the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks if I turned to look. I didn’t though. “But it is what it is.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Now even her voice was creating conflicting feelings within me.
“Okay,” Delaney said, rising and addressing the room once again. “Let’s sit up slowly. Take a breath. And whenever you’re ready, come back to the present. Feel the weight of your body on the mat, hear the music filling the room.”
My hand stilled on the goat. I hated to break our first serene moment, but I needed to get up. I shifted him onto my lap as I sat up with my legs extended in front of me.
He grunted his displeasure, but thankfully didn’t move.
“What notes does everyone have?” Delaney asked, voicing my thoughts.
Grace clapped. “Ten out of ten. No notes.”
Adam snorted. He clearly disagreed, but for the first time ever, kept his mouth shut.
Theo shook his head. He must have arrived while I had my eyes closed. “I have a few other animals I think might be a better fit.”
I nodded once, cataloging the evening in my head. What had worked. What hadn’t. What needed to be different next Friday when we had real participants show up.
Then I looked at Delaney, who stood at the head of the class. She laughed at something Cheryl said before turning her attention to the feedback now flowing from everyone.
Chaos, now unhappy with his new spot, got up and crossed the room to stand next to her.
Delaney reached down without looking and scratched between his ears. He leaned in. I watched her a moment longer than I should have.
We had until Friday to figure this out.
It was all going to be fine.
Chaos bleated and bumped Delaney’s knee.
It was absolutely not going to be fine.