I’ve long dreamed of attending a kitty yoga session. After all, it combines two of my favourite things. Finally, thanks to a gift from my husband, I finally got the chance to spend an hour amongst twelve week old British blue shorthair kittens this past Sunday.
And, well, it wasn’t quite what I’d imagined.
We were a group of twelve, and dispersed between the yoga mats were all sort of kitten toys, scratch posts, and baskets. I didn’t count, but I think there were seven kittens. They were running around and playing, not paying much mind to this group of strangers that had just come in.
As we were about to begin the yoga portion of our “experience”, a latecomer appeared at the door, disregarded the fact that everyone was starting the exercises, immediately grabbed a kitten, then dropped the kitten from a significant height. I was shocked — she wasn’t treating the kittens as living, breathing beings, but only as decoration.
It annoyed the instructor, too. She went through the rules of participation, stressing that we must treat the kittens with care. We then started a gentle, short session — a few stretches and a few breathing exercises.
The kittens’ breeder walked around the room with a laser pointer, encouraging the kittens to climb all over us. While it was definitely cute, it also felt a bit exploitative. She later told me that it’s not demanding on the kittens — they do it every weekend for 2-3 hours, but just for a month.
Somewhat unexpectedly, I really enjoyed the yoga portion of the experience. It wasn’t strenuous at all, but it was just what I needed — a reminder that my body requires regular stretching. In other words, my main takeaway is that I need to do more yoga. Probably minus the kittens.
Swordfoosh 