The difference between a yoga position and a fentanyl jag

Me and Big Lips Bruno got to the dog park first thing this morning, due to the late summer heat wave. If I don't get the big boy out in the cool of the early morning, he'll get no exercise at all. I noticed on our first lap that the homeless encampment that had sprouted up in the field next door was mostly gone. But a solitary figure 100 yards away caught my eye. Looked like a Muslim at prayer, but he wasn't facing Mecca, so I knew that couldn't be it. By our third or fourth lap he had shifted somewhat, into what looked like a possible yoga position. He maintained that for some time, but by our sixth lap he was on all fours. By the tenth lap he was standing up! Alas, one lap later he was down on his knees again. Five laps after that, he was standing bent over with his pants down. Next lap, back to square one but now bare-assed and tangled up in his trousers. That's around the time me and Bruno headed out. After 45 minutes of watching this lost soul try to stand up, I wonder if he ever succeeded?