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Lumi
The start of class is always chaotic. When everyone and their dogs are arriving, there’s carnage like you’ve never seen before. All the owners want to say hello and catch up, all the dogs want to sniff butts, having literal pissing contests, and in some cases, sneak in a quickie. After my first absolutely disastrous doga class—where I didn’t specify how many places were available and we had over sixty dogs and their owners turn up—I quickly learnt my lesson. Now I run three separate dog classes a week to fit everyone in. I even had a few people turn up with their not-a-dog pets too: alley cats, feral cats, domesticated cats, a carnivorous plant, a goldfish that was allergic to water, and even a weird teacup sized kimono dragon. I know you think that should say Komodo, but honestly, it was a dragon wearing a kimono. The worst one was the disappearing boa constrictor but the less said about that, the better. Jasmine’s fire breathing Jasper is still the most troublesome, though the sessions do appear to be doing him some good.
“Ade, will you set out the mats and the water bowls for me please?”
“Of course, Mama!” she chirps, before racing off to set up the studio while I work the coffee machine.
After the class, most of the dog moms will grab a coffee to go and take their dogs over to the park for a run around, so I make sure everything is fully stocked and ready. Actually, I really need to take on some extra help. I have a couple of part time helpers, but I think I need to take on someone full time to help now. I’ll have to put an advert in the Silver Springs Gazette with Neve.
I love all of my doga classes, they’re always great fun, but getting them started is always a challenge, hence why an extra pair of hands could be good.
“Shall we go up?” I call over the din before welcoming the first customer who steps forward. “Oh, hey Cydney and Gizmo, glad to see you’re back. I thought it would be another week before we saw you.”
“I know. Luckily the vet did an amazing job with Gizmo’s stitches, and he healed in no time at all.” Cydney beams at me, completely oblivious to the magic the resident vet will have used on her dog.
“No more chasing sticks for you for a while then, Gizmo,” I tease. The pooch cocks its head at me, and I swear he gives me a sheepish smile. I laugh. “Go on up and choose your spot. Ade’s here today so she’ll be excited to have you back.”
They head upstairs and I say a quick hello to Samantha and Rian, Mikaela and Ruby the Malshi, and Tina and Monte, the gorgeous Skye terrier. The small dogs are super cute, but I have a special place in my heart for the big boys—like Max the staffie who comes with Jennifer. He’s a stocky dude who likes to crush people with love. He spends most of the class lying on people whether they like it or not. I send them all on their way.
As the others arrive, I send them up too and mentally count attendance so I know how many treats to take upstairs. Lessons run smoother when I provide the calming, herbal, homemade treats. Before, each owner would bring their own dog treats, but it caused major FOMO (fear of missing out) with the pooches and nearly resulted in Jasmine’s dog, Jasper, burning down the studio. Just your regular class here though.
“Excuse me?” A voice interrupts my treat gathering mission, and I turn to the absolute hunk standing in the doorway. He’s not at all dressed for yoga, in his jeans and chunky sweater, but I would love to see him bend and stretch and pretzel into some interesting shapes with me. “Is this the doga class? I’m new. Is it too late to join?”
His brows crease with the question but his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. He has the most striking violet eyes I’ve ever seen, they’re completely mesmerizing.
“Hi, welcome, yes, no.” Ugh, what am I even saying? This guy has me all kinds of tongue tied. “I mean, hi. Welcome to the studio. I’m Lumi.”
“Whit.”
“Nice to meet you Whit. Yes, today is our doga class and no it isn’t too late to join. One of our regulars, Candela, had to drop out because her husky dog Jasper turned out to be…” I trail off.
Oh my god, I don’t even know this guy and my nerves almost had me spilling that Jasper is actually a man! I swallow nervously, plaster on a bright smile and continue like I didn’t just almost reveal the identity of Batman or something equally as secretive.
“You’re welcome to join in today, and if you like it, we can see about finding you a more permanent spot in one of the other doga classes.”
I don’t really want to give up Candela’s spot, but I think it’ll be too weird if she brings her mate to doga. The other ladies might not feel comfortable, not that I think for a second that Jasper would have eyes for anyone other than his owner. I mean mate. That takes some getting used to.
“Wow, you have more than one class?”
“The residents of Silver Springs like their dogs. And luckily for me, their yoga too. I also do regular human yoga classes, and pilates and...well, lots of things.” I smile politely and look around for his four-legged friend. “Do you...erm...have a dog?”
“Oh yes! Absolutely! He’s in my car. I just wanted to make sure you had room for us before I got him out. He’ll be quite excited to be somewhere new.”
“That’s no trouble at all. Come on in and up when you’re ready. We’re in the main studio, you can’t miss it. I’ll go and get started.”
I leave him to it, determined to walk away first and not check out his ass as he goes. There’ll be plenty of opportunity for that in class. I take the stairs two at a time, suddenly with a lot more spring in my step, which dies suddenly when I take in the scene before me.
Carol Ann’s dog, Archimedes, is racing all over the place trying to play, and getting under everyone’s feet as they begin their warmup stretches on the mats. Yoda is chasing him, barking like crazy, while his owner Hannah yells, “Yodie Pants, come back!”
Mesha is spinning in circles, having a mad fit of the zoomies, making the most random noises I’ve ever heard from a pup. Her brother, Chops, is chilling, biting his own claws and spitting them out on my mat. I mean are they toenails? Claw nails? Paw nails?
Gross.
Gross is what they are.
“Sorry! Sorry! I’ll clean it up, I promise,” the other Hannah shouts when she sees me cringe at the mess.
“It’s fine, honestly. My fault. I should have got up here sooner.”
