Please enable javascript in your browser to view this site!

Thich Nhat Hanh

My Puppy-Zen Master – Thich Nhat Hanh Redivivus

By: Julius-Kei Kato

This past summer, our family welcomed Mochi, an 8-week-old, "to-die-for" cute Mini-Schnauzer. We'd been looking for the ideal dog for a while, so we were very happy to have finally found the furry friend promised to our daughter a while back.

I'm very much of a dog-person myself so I've become de facto the secondary caregiver of this cute puppy. As dog-lovers know well, a puppy is like a baby in many ways: Their life is mainly a cycle of eat-pee-poo-sleep-play and ... of course, be cute. But it's a lot of work for the caregivers. I firmly emphasized this to our daughter before the puppy came and we're living this commitment at present with its many joys, together with all the work and time involved. But I soon found out that Mochi perhaps gives us more than we give him.

Although we got Mochi primarily for our daughter, I personally had wanted a dog not only because I'm an ardent dog-lover, but also for an explicitly Buddhist reason. Intrigued? Well, I heard along the way that dogs could be excellent Zen teachers! And so, I settled to life with our puppy with a fervent Buddhist resolution to treat Mochi not only as a pet but also as my puppy-Zen Master! Here are the lessons I've learned a few weeks under his tutelage.

Dogs live only in the present and for the present. If there's anyone that experiences la joie de vivre to the full, it is these furry friends. I've observed "Master Mochi" closely and noted how he becomes ecstatic when he can smell his food. When it is finally in front of him, he wolfs it down with full concentration. The next moment, he's sniffing around with great interest in the backyard, paying close attention to this or that object. You might call that his version of mindful looking. You’ll often find him frolicking and galloping with abandon, rejoicing in the simple joy of a new branch or leaf he's holding in his mouth. When he has finally exhausted his energy, he asks to be let in the house and settles down contentedly for his nap which, again, he relishes to the full, without any concern for past or future.

Mochi reminds me of Eastern philosophy teacher Alan Watts’ words: “…the meaning of being alive is just to be alive.” This, I learned, is the fundamental lesson that dogs as Zen masters teach us if we but look deeply and mindfully at how they live.

And then, there's Mochi's relationship with us, his humans. This aspect comprises the reason why many of us have dogs in the first place. They don't call dogs our best friends for nothing. Mochi swiftly and effortlessly made our small family (my wife, daughter, and myself) his pack ... er, his "Sangha." In that short time, he's become an irreplaceable part of our family. When he snuggles up close to us, gives us signs of affection, plays with us, looks at us with those cute puppy eyes, and in the many ways he has become part of our family life, I'm reminded of a key Buddhist teaching sometimes expressed as "Interbeing": No one exists of their own accord because we are all so interconnected that--in the words of Thich Nhat Hanh--we "inter-exist," as it were. This is an interpretation of the Buddhist teaching on Sunyata ("Nothingness" or "Emptiness").

Which reminds me, I often read or listen to aspects of the Dharma as expressed by the late Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh, who I profoundly consider as my sensei ("Thay" as he is called). Through the years, Thay has taught me many things about Buddhism and about living life well such as: living every moment in mindfulness while freeing oneself from past concerns or future worries; love as primarily expressed through presence; looking deeply into things to see better their true nature and to see the world anew with wonder; grasping how all of us inter-exist with everyone and everything else. 

As I continue to reflect on those key Buddhist life lessons, I'm astonished to realize that they are the very same lessons that my puppy-Zen Master has been teaching me every day in his cute way! No wonder I've recalled Thay and his teaching so often ever since we got little Mochi. As Thay often taught, “a cloud never dies.” Thus, Thay’s spirit continues to live in many ways. For me, our Mochi is Thich Nhat Hanh-sensei redivivus (come back to life)!

So, it's not only us taking care of Mochi. He actually has taken us under his wings ... er rather, his paws (!), teaching and reminding us of the most important aspects of life that we so often forget because of our unmindful, over-busy lives. He is truly my Puppy-Zen Master!

---

Julius-Kei Kato is associate professor of Religious Studies (among which, Religious Pluralism) at King’s College-Western University, London, Canada. He continues his efforts to practice the Dharma and the Christ-way in his corner of the world. His article entitled “What has Hybridity Got to Do with Ecology?” will come out as part of Buddhist-Christian Studies #42 (2022).