Morning Drill
My knitted shoulders felt stiff after a long night, so I decided on a proper morning drill. Beneath the dining table, the low horizontal rung of an oak chair offered a sturdy crossbar. I reached overhead, wrapped both paws firmly around the smooth timber, and lifted my feet off the floor. The fabric across my chest pulled taut as I hung, feeling the steady stretch along every seam. With a deliberate breath, I hauled myself upward until my chin cleared the wood, paused, and lowered down with control. Five full lifts completed the set. Dropping lightly back onto the woven rug, my joints felt limber and fully prepared.

