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Cats Up To No Good

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Well, it’s finally here! My sure-fire, brass-bound, copper-bottomed, iron-clad, nickel-plated, sterling silver, gold standard (Had enough of the metallics?) opportunity to live in the manner to which I’d like to become accustomed has arrived. Yes!

Reading through one of my weekly newsmagazine—appropriately enough named The Week—I came across an item about an entrepreneur, Lainey Morse, in Oregon who has combined two of her serious interests—yoga and goats(Yes, that’s right, yoga and goats)—to spark a new craze; her waiting list for classes has stretched to 1200…and counting.

It seems that the yoga sessions are like any typical yoga sessions except that Morse’s eight goats (A bigger herd than you might think, given the independent ways of the caprine family) wander through the group of participants and, when the mood strikes them, climb on the backs of the posers. This, apparently, is a big hit with the yoga-natics, especially those wrestling with anxiety or depression. Morse is quoted as saying, “It’s hard to be sad when there’s (sic) baby goats jumping on you.” I should say! It’s hard to do a lot of things when there are baby goats jumping on you.

Not that I would know about that. My experience is mostly with baby lambs. Those pointy little hooves would certainly be a sensation and a half. Kid goats also jump. Their style is sort of like a pogo stick, or four pogo sticks attached to a very limber body and an enthusiastic tail that shakes like crazy. All of this moving and shaking is frequently accompanied by vigorous bleating—Bleahh, Bleahh, Bleahh! Imagine all of that going on up and down your spine. It would surely give the massage chairs that were on display at the Great Big Home and Garden Show a run for the money(I tried them out). And you could get goat milk too! Cheese! Fudge! Soap! Such a Deal!

Anyway…. My big commercial approach to this is to use—instead of goats : CATS. Not that the cats would be especially interested in co-operating but they might be persuaded to lounge around on somebody’s back if they thought (Do cats think at all?) that it would be annoying, or entertaining, or sleep –inducing, or just about anything they were NOT supposed to do. They could walk up and down somebody’s spinal cord as well as any old goat (Sorry, didn’t mean to get personal, Bob). They could massage like pro’s, give or take a cat scratch or two. What’s a claw mark between friends/clients? No need for soothing music during the yoga session, it would be drowned out by the sound of purring. Of course, the issue of where to put the litter box might come up, for both therapists and guests but accommodations would have to be provided , taking into consideration the fact that yoga mats with gravel decorations would not be real popular.
Cat masseuses/masseurs could charge by the hour or by the pound, with fat cats specializing in pressure work (lying down on a spot and falling asleep) and the fit kittens focusing on percussive approaches (jumping up and down and running around chasing tails). Drugs—catnip mice—might be used sparingly in difficult cases. All the cat hair you can take home for free! Knit it up into sweaters and slippers and vests for fun and profit. Make it into dog toys for cross-cultural appeal.

Alas! This vision is probably too far ahead of public acceptance to ever fly around here. Never mind that getting licked by a cat’s tongue is a sensation that you don’t encounter every day and might be the NEXT BIG THING on the internet. We could be in on the ground floor of a whole chain of cat-focused gyms and exercise facilities…a concatenation of feline spas, as it were.
But no, the Stark Humane Society has jumped the gun on this whole concept. The AB-J just had an item about this intrusion into our economic prospects. It seems that the Society has introduced adoptable cats into yoga classes in the city of Green. The yogis are doing the “Downward Dog” pose while there are “Curios Cats” wandering among them and occasionally meowing or caterwauling to make a point. The article quoted the CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) as saying that “…cats provide emotional support, improve moods and contribute to the overall morale of their owners.” Well then.

Apparently, this is going on across the country in studios, zoos and farms, wherever animals can be introduced (“ Hello, Gorilla. This is ballet dancer”. “Good morning, Owl, meet trash hauler.” “Good to meet you, Elephant, I’m the fry cook.”) and take part inhuman activities. Cats, dogs, bunnies, goats, horses– the list goes on. Yoga classes, college students during finals week, hospital wards—anyplace where lowering blood pressure or heart rate or anxiety levels would be a good thing.
Another good thing was a couple of items I found while looking up this stuff, to wit :

Kilkenny Cats
There wanst was two cats of Kilkenny. Each thought there was one cat too many. So they fought and they fit, And they scratched and they bit. ‘Til instead of two cats, there weren’t any.
And—referring (re- furring?) to being cramped, in close quarters—“ Couldn’t cuss a cat without getting fur in your mouth.”
So I’m just going to have to win the lottery instead; that’s a sure thing. The cats won’t get to share.