There are certain things that One Just Does Not Do.  You know – burp at a dinner party, lick your knife, flash your panties at the vicar…that sort of thing.  Another thing you Really Ought Not To Do is run over a dog belonging to One Of The Gals Who Came Last Time.

For a start, it is not a very good way to make a new Best Friend.

It is also not a very good way to start your 8^th yoga session.

And it is DEFINITELY not a good way to make friends with the dog.

But there you have it.  Some things just happen.  And some things you could probably avoid happening, but they happen anyway, and it’s only after they happen that you realise they really ought Not To Have Happened…

But that is a bit too philosophical for the plain ugly truth – which is: I ran over Enzo.  Beloved little tiny dog of the family.  Cute little furry thing with one blue eye and one brown.  Sweetest little darling canine you have ever laid eyes upon.

And I ran him over. At yoga.  With the Gals Who Came Last Time looking on in silent horror.

In my defence, (someone has to try and make this story a little more PC, and as I am The Blogger, it’s really my duty to attempt it!) I think Enzo actually lay in wait that morning.  He KNEW I was coming, hunkered down by the gate, waited for it to open and close several times (letting in all sorts of Gals Who Came Last Time with no incident), then positively LEAPT into action as my car arrived, stayed craftily out of sight then bolted, cunningly, straight under my back wheels.

Whilst I, quietly ignorant of the impending Disaster, merrily turned into the driveway, happily anticipating the 8^th Yoga session, wondering if I would FINALLY make it to the ranks of a Last Time Gal…only to come to a grinding, bumping, squealing halt…on top of Enzo.

I don’t know if you have ever run anything over before, but believe me, it is Not Very Nice.  Particularly not when what you have run over is clearly still under the wheel.  And yelping.  Very loudly.

I am not sure what you would have done, but I stopped.  And then sat there, rather stupidly wondering what I ought to do next.  Even when one of the horrified Last Time Gals said, very calmly, “Just reverse – he’s OK, you’re on his tail – reverse…” it took me a while to process this instruction.

And a while longer to actually contemplate doing it.

And a while longer while I considered the merits of reversing, as against going forward, or of not going anywhere at all…

I mean, *(^%$£@@!!!! I was ON TOP OF ENZO.  Teeny tiny weeny little Enzo.  In my (very large and very heavy) car.  I had felt the bump.  Actually bump is far too sedate.  I had felt the whack, smack, thud, and squish of Enzo Under Wheel.  And I was acutely aware that he was STILL Under Wheel. And still yelping…

And that any movement, forward, backward, or anything short of levitation (and I have not got that far in yoga yet) would result in Something Horrible…Not to mention my permanent and definite exclusion from Yoga, the premises, the Last Time Club, and possible spill-over into society at large and any public place I may dare to show my face in the future…

I was so busy imagining the Epitaph (Here lies Enzo – so Sweet, so Loved, and so Squashed…  etc and so on) that I am afraid it took a fair few moments for me to process the (by now hysterical) instructions from the sidelines…to REVERSE!

Which I eventually did, releasing poor Enzo’s tail.  Whereupon he literally FLEW through the air, took off like a bat out of hell, and ran indignantly out of sight.

And I parked my car and prayed to the God Of Gurus and Yogis and Anything That Would Help Enzo that I had not killed him…(I had not, it turns out.  Luckily.)

Enzo went to the Vet and got better.  Enzo came home and now starts howling (very loudly) and running (very convincingly) and cowering (very heart breakingly) behind his owner whenever I am near…

And, 8 weeks on,  with Enzo happily still alive and well (if a bit emotionally traumatised and slightly psychotic in my presence), I am very nearly almost a Last Time Gal…except I have problems with some of the terminology, still cannot do a Sun Salutation, and simply CANNOT hear the words Downward Facing Dog without wanting to throw up….