Zen Master Dex

I was thinking about how owning dogs has transformed and enlightened the way I think and live. Here are some of the things I realized.

Everyone needs a spiritual guide — a priest, therapist, or wise friend. My wise friends are my dogs. They have deep insights to impart.

Dogs enjoy simple pleasures and take each day as it comes.

Like a true Zen master, dogs eat when they are hungry and sleep when tired.

I used to look at Dexter and think, ‘If you were a little smarter you could tell me what you were thinking,’ and he'd look at me like he was saying, ‘If you were a little smarter, I wouldn't have to.’ Sometimes we’re just too dumb to see what’s what and hear what is really being said. How often in our lives does our superior attitude get in the way of getting the point? Corollary #1: Dogs don't feel threatened by our intelligence. Corollary #2: No dog ever brought a Kenny G or Michael Bolton album. Just how smart are we?

Dogs feel guilty when they've done something wrong. How often do we entrench rather than acknowledge that maybe we’re the ones who screwed up?

Dogs think you sing great. Dogs love long car trips.

When someone is having a bad day, dogs are silent and sit close by and nuzzle gently. Have you noticed that our pets have an uncanny way of knowing when we’re sad? I saw a PBS special about dogs that are trained to assist people with handicaps. There are some dogs that have a way of sensing when a seizure is coming minutes before it ever happens. They are trained to alert the person so they can lie down, and then the dog stays by their side until their master is safe and out of harm. My roommate Mitch, who has stage two leukemia and degenerative spinal disc disease, gets the benefit of my scottie Dexter’s awareness on a regularly basis. When he’s having a bad day, Dex senses it, even before Mitch realizes it, and is there on his bed offering his quiet but unyielding support.

Best of all, my dogs befriend me with an unconditional love that we would do well to imitate. Is it any coincidence that the species name of Dog is a mirror reflection of God?

Of course my dogs have their failings. Dex is afraid of firecrackers and lightning, and border collie Sadie hides in the closet whenever we run the vacuum cleaner. But unlike me, they are not afraid of what other people think of them, or anxious about their public image. They bark at motorcycles driving by on 27th Street, but, in contrast to people, they never growl at children or friends. (Well, Sadie does bark with enthusiasm, out of joy for the encounter, rather than in anger and threateningly.)

So my dogs are my teachers. When I become too serious and preoccupied, they remind me to play. When I get too wrapped up in abstractions and ideas, they remind me to take care of myself. On their own canine level, they show me that it might be possible to live without inner conflicts or neuroses — uncomplicated and glad to be alive.

We have a lot to learn from dogs. Just because they haven’t invented anything, or written anything doesn’t mean they aren’t spiritually evolved. Let other people have their mentors, masters, and enlightened teachers. I have four dogs named Sadie, Hank, Dexter, and Cassie.