The Cat Who Defied Yoga

She calls it "stretching," I call it "a personal nap mat."

It all started one morning when I noticed my human, Ania, unrolling this strange thing on the floor. It was long, flat, and suspiciously soft—basically the perfect place for a cat nap. But no, she had other plans.

She called it a "yoga mat" and seemed all excited about something called "stretching." Frankly, I didn't care about stretching. I cared about comfort.

As soon as she stepped away to get a drink of water, I jumped onto that mat like a graceful panther—well, more like a fluffy potato with legs—but the point is, I was there first. It was my mat now.

Ania came back to find me lounging in the middle of her "yoga" space, all sprawled out and giving her the classic "why are you bothering me?" look. She tried to shoo me off, but I stared at her like she was the one interrupting my peaceful nap. She begged me to "move," but I knew my rights. Cats rule, humans drool.

She tried again, this time rolling out some "stretching" thing where she bent like a pretzel—incredibly ungraceful, by the way. I took one look at her and thought, "No, no, you're doing it all wrong."

When she went to do some "downward dog" thing (I’m still not sure what that means), I seized the moment. I climbed onto her back like I was the mighty lion, claiming my territory. I could tell she was trying to breathe and be all zen, but I was there, sitting proudly on her spine, like the majestic creature I am.

Eventually, she gave up on her "stretching" and just gave me belly rubs. Frankly, I think she realized that yoga is way better with a warm, purring kitty in the middle of it all.

So, every morning now, when she unrolls her "yoga mat," I know it's my chance to catch up on my beauty sleep. She can do her stretches, but she’ll have to work around me. After all, I’m the one truly mastering the art of relaxation.