Pixel, the three-year-old rescue greyhound, loves long naps, playing with her furry siblings and exploring the neighbourhood on her evening strolls. ALEX CEARNS/HOUNDSTOOTH STUDIO
WHAT ARE THE KEY principles offered by Tibetan Buddhism to guide us in the way we can best help our pets in life, as well as through death? In this chapter I outline what I believe to be the most relevant concepts. Although presented in summary form, each principle is profound in its implications.
Readers who would like to explore Tibetan Buddhism in more detail may do so in my books Buddhism For Busy People, which provides an overview, and Enlightenment To Go, which offers more detailed suggestions on how to integrate Buddha’s teachings—collectively known as the Dharma—into the fabric of everyday life.
ALL BEINGS—ANIMAL AND HUMAN—HAVE A MIND
In Tibetan Buddhism, all sentient beings are known as ‘sem chens’, which translates as ‘mind havers’. There is no difference between humans and other animals in this regard.
Tibetan Buddhism is not asserting that cockroaches, birds or even our beloved dog are intellectually equivalent to us. The ‘mind’ being referred to here is much more subtle than that.
Part of the challenge of understanding Buddhism in the West is the sparseness of our language when translating terms from Sanskrit or Pali. In the same way that some languages are said to have many different words for snow, because subtle distinctions are so self-evident to those who are immersed in that particular world, so too, when translating words that describe different aspects of consciousness into English, we sometimes have to make do with only rough approximations.
The ‘mind’ we all share does not refer to sensory perception, intellect, memory, personality or many of the other elements that comprise the typical Western description of mind. It refers to a more subtle phenomenon: ‘a formless continuum of clarity and cognition’.
‘Formless’, because mind is not material. We can’t point to anything tangible and say ‘that is mind’.
‘Continuum’ refers to the energetic continuity in our experience of mind, with one mind moment constantly following another, like the flow of a river. Mind is not static—it has a dynamic quality. ‘Continuum’ describes the way that each mind moment arises as a result of a previous mind moment, not in a linear way—any glimpse of our own mind will soon establish that—but as an effect of a previously created cause.
‘Clarity’ describes another aspect of mind—how it is capable of reflecting, perceiving and experiencing whatever arises. Buddhist teachers use several different analogies to illustrate this quality. The sky is one such metaphor, with every thought, perception or sensation like a cloud that passes through it. We shouldn’t confuse the clouds for the sky. We are not our thoughts. Thoughts, beliefs, interpretations all arise, abide and pass through our mind without remaining. Not a single thought you’ve ever had is in your mind as you read this sentence, now. Thoughts have no permanence, and cannot remain in our mind unless we engage them with our attention.
The discovery that we are not our thoughts, that we can choose to engage, or not engage with thoughts, and that we can learn to become observers of our thoughts rather than their victims is one of the most life-enhancing skills any of us can develop. I have written about this extensively in my book Why Mindfulness Is Better Than Chocolate.
‘Cognition’ is the ability to perceive and understand. The word encompasses all elements of mental activity, including our capacity to sense, interpret, think, remember, plan, visualise and so on. As experiences arise, enabled by the clarity of mind, its cognitive function is what we use to make sense of those experiences.
Whether we are human, cat, pigeon or alpaca, each one of us has a mind that may be described as a formless continuum of clarity and cognition.
ALL BEINGS—ANIMAL AND HUMAN—HAVE BUDDHA POTENTIAL
If we have a mind, we have the potential to become enlightened. The Tibetan Buddhist view is that ultimately we all will become enlightened. Our enlightenment is possible because each one of us possesses some capacity for love, compassion and other virtuous qualities which, through continuous development, become a cause for Buddhahood.
Whether or not we make the choices that propel us along this path is, of course, up to us. Interestingly, many of the behaviours which take us in a positive direction share much with those emphasised in other major traditions: pleasures of the material world are unreliable and short-lived, whereas love and compassion for others are our most enduring sources of wellbeing; in giving, we receive; action is most effective when founded on contemplation. Whether we act from religious or secular convictions, whenever we create positive causes, there can only be positive effects.
When considering our treatment of animals, especially our pets, it is helpful to cultivate an underlying reverence for the fact that we are dealing with beings who have just as much Buddha potential as we do. And given that the process of enlightenment may be a long one, who is to say that our dog or cat won’t get there ahead of us?
The Buddhist sage, Shantideva, who wrote what was effectively the world’s first self-help book back in the eighth century (A Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life), described a single human lifetime as being like a flash of lightning in the sky, it is so transient. What if the being who is currently our pet budgie is merely using up some negative karma before manifesting as an extraordinary human being—and perhaps as our mother or father in its next lifetime? Who is to say that our dog doesn’t possess the potential to achieve enlightenment well before we do? We may be human in this lifetime—believed to be the optimal form in which to create the causes for our enlightenment. But the future is uncertain. Just as our own actions will propel us in a particular direction, so, too, our dog’s. It is both humbling and entirely realistic to keep our minds open to the reality that just because we relate to other beings in a specific form right now, this will not always be so.
As pet lovers, we have both the opportunity, as well as the responsibility, to help our close companions create the causes that will help actualise their Buddha potential. Their journey through this particular life is something we can do much to enhance. This is the basis of many of the practices proposed in this book.
EACH OF US ATTACHES THE HIGHEST VALUE TO OUR OWN LIFE
The most precious thing to each of us is being alive. We have no problem agreeing with this conceptually, but on an everyday level it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that life is both transient and extremely precious. We tend to assume we will live to a ripe old age, even though we have no reason to do so. How often do we hear people say, ‘If only it was Friday’, on a Monday or Tuesday, thereby wishing away precious time from a life that may be a lot shorter than they suppose?
As a society we often defer our potential for fulfilment and joy until some mythical time in the future—the ‘I’ll be happy when …’ syndrome. When we have met our life partner, or had children, or when the children have left home, or when we have achieved some particular goal—even if that is only the end of our working life.
There is no greater wake-up call than a road accident or medical emergency to alert us to the true value of our life. Buddhists are encouraged to meditate regularly on the stark certainty of our own death. This is not out of morbid introspection, but for the opposite reason. It is only when we face our own death that we truly know how to live. Only when we experience a vivid awareness of the preciousness of each day may we be truly present to the here and now, and prioritise what and who is important to us.
As pet lovers, we need to take care not to impose on animal companions our tendency to put off fulfilment to the future. We should certainly make no assumptions about longevity when it comes to beings whose lives are, in most cases, only a tiny fraction the length of our own. Life is for living, here and now. This may be as good as it gets. We may want to procrastinate about taking the dog for a walk because the weather forecast is better tomorrow. But how does that help our canine friend make the most of today? Brushing the cat for the umpteenth time may seem a chore—but if we never had the chance to do it again, would we take more care to make that special connection?
Valuing the preciousness of each moment of life leads us to the sanctity of life itself. We have no reason to assume that an animal’s life is any less valuable to that animal than our own life is to us. Observing how animals behave when they know their life is under threat tells us all we need to know about the value which they attach to it: mothers will fight to their last breath to defend their children. Animals who sense that their lives are in danger will go to extreme lengths to survive.
If we were to be chased across a vast plain by giants wielding canisters of toxic gas, we would probably behave no differently from the terrified cockroach, scrambling and defecating across the kitchen floor as it searches in desperation for safe refuge.
Attaching no value at all to life is, if anything, uniquely human. There is no evidence of suicide among other sentient beings. You rarely find self-harm among animals that live in the wild. And yet self-destructive behaviour of varying kinds is among the rising challenges facing health services throughout the developed world.
The Buddhist view is that all sentient beings cherish their own life above all else. This is why we strive to protect the lives of others. So important is this principle that abandoning killing is the first—and only required—vow taken upon becoming a Buddhist.
EACH ONE OF US WANTS HAPPINESS AND TO AVOID DISSATISFACTION
It may seem an obvious point that all beings are just the same as we are in wishing for happiness and to avoid suffering. But it is worth repeating because it is so often overlooked. We have no difficulty accepting that we can never have too much happiness. No matter how much we already enjoy, we wish for more. Just as we are eager to avoid the slightest dissatisfaction or suffering.
But in our pursuit of happiness, it can be easy to overlook or diminish the needs of others. In the words of Shantideva:
First of all, I should make an effort
To meditate upon the equality between self and others.
I should protect all beings as I do myself
Because we are all equal in wanting pleasure and not wanting pain.
When both myself and others
Are similar in that we wish to be happy,
What is so special about me?
Why do I strive for my happiness alone?
And when both myself and others
Are similar in that we do not wish to suffer,
What is so special about me?
Why do I protect myself and not others?
We exert enormous control over the circumstances of our pets’ lives. It is within our power to provide not only the most appealing and nutritious food, and most comfortable living conditions, but also to provide the outings, stimulation and affection that help them thrive.
This is an opportunity we should recognise because when we offer love, time and material support to others, we ourselves are the first beneficiaries. The Golden Rule, repeated in the major traditions down the ages, tells us that as we give, so we receive. For evidence of this, we need only think about the happiest people we know—they tend to be givers.
Giving is most often not about the grand gesture, or seeking recognition for our philanthropy. It is about the everyday moments when we respond to a meow at our heels, or a dog presenting us with his leash, or a bird fluffing out her feathers as she battles to keep warm. It is about doing sometimes quite small things with great love, embodying the life-enhancing wisdom that the deep sense of wellbeing we all yearn for comes from nurturing a benevolent connection to others.
OUR EXPERIENCE OF REALITY IS DETERMINED BY CAUSE AND EFFECT
As a society, we perpetuate the mistaken belief that the causes of our happiness or dissatisfaction are outside of us. Which is why we invest so much energy trying to get the externals of our lives just so: the home, family, career, toys, financial security, or whatever else we think form the ingredients of our personal recipe for happiness.
The reality is that these things, external to the mind are, at best, only contributing factors. The main cause of happiness arises from the mind itself. What we think about our circumstances is way more important than the circumstances themselves. Two people in much the same situation may feel very differently about it. The difference is how they interpret things. This is not only a Buddhist view—it is also the basis of cognitive behaviour therapy, one of the most widely used modalities in psychotherapy today.
Why is it that each of us sees the world in such a variety of different ways? Because of the way we have become accustomed to think. Or, as Buddhists would put it, because of karma.
On a moment by moment basis we are strengthening the patterns of thought and behaviour that shape the way we experience reality in the future. If we focus our attention on negativity, scarcity of resources, conflict and fear, our experience of the future will be an ever-magnified experience of these. Similarly, a focus on gratitude, compassion and open-heartedness develops our capacity for connectedness and joy. To enjoy happiness, we first create the causes for happiness.
As thoughts become translated into action, we interact with others in a way that influences not only our relationships with them, but also with others in times to come. We may catch a glimpse of cause and effect at work in a single lifetime. Negative and miserly people tend to become increasingly negative and miserly. Appreciative and open-hearted people become more spontaneously and naturally compassionate.
A more panoramic vantage point would enable us to see these patterns at work over lifetimes, with the energetic dynamic of karma propelling our consciousness into situations and relationships that are the effects of previously created causes. Taking care to create positive causes, or energetic imprints, and avoid negative ones, is the key to our future flourishing.
This is as true of our pets as it is of us. Buddha was once asked to summarise his teachings in just a few words. His reply was: ‘Abandon harmfulness. Cultivate goodness. Subdue your mind.’ Even if we can do nothing else, then avoiding negativity, and helping our pets avoid negativity, is a useful start. Whether it’s attaching a bell collar round the neck of our hunter cat, or keeping our dog away from encounters that may trigger aggression, moment by moment we can become more aware of our pet’s experience of reality and help shape their future experiences.
Helping our pet pooch create goodness may seem a tall order, but there is much we can do to imprint our pets’ minds with powerfully positive images, words and behaviour. We should never underestimate the impact these activities may have on their consciousness—an impact that may only become manifest well into the future.
The example of the pigeon and Indian Buddhist master Vasabandhu is a fascinating one. Vasabandhu used to sit on a roof and daily recite a text called the Abhidharmakosha. Every day, he was overheard by a resident pigeon. So powerful were the imprints caused by hearing this precious text that when it died, the pigeon achieved human rebirth. One day Vasabandhu decided to check what had become of the pigeon, and through his clairvoyance he was able to see that it had been born as a child to a family in a nearby valley. He went to visit the family and after some years the child became a monk under his care, to whom Vasabandhu gave the name Lobpön Loden. Lobpön Loden in turn went on to become an expert on the Abhidharmakosha—it is said by some surpassing even the great Vasabandhu in his understanding of the text—and writing four commentaries on it. As it happens, my own precious lama, Geshe Acharya Thubten Loden, shares his name.
PETS ARE NOT IN OUR LIVES BY CHANCE
If someone asked how your pets came to be living with you, you may tell the story of a visit to the local cat refuge, or perhaps the adoption of a dog when his owner moved away, or the discovery of a bird that had fallen from her nest and would have died without your help. You would, in other words, be giving an answer according to conventional reality. A reality unique to you.
Many people going to the same cat refuge walked right past the feline with whom you are now so besotted. Others may have had no interest in adopting a dog, or may have been willing to act only as a temporary foster parent. And why did you walk under that particular tree at the precise moment that the baby bird, wrinkled and raucous, made her presence known?
As described above, the Buddhist view is that our experience of conventional reality is driven by cause and effect, or karma. This means there is nothing arbitrary in what we experience—and that the pets with whom we share our lives are not here by chance. From the countless billions of beings on planet earth alone, it is not through some random accident that we find ourselves sharing our homes and lives with only a specific few: it is because of the very strong connection we have to them.
The formless continuum of clarity and awareness, which is our mind, has threaded through numberless experiences of reality, like a string through an endless, beaded necklace of many colours. Some of these experiences have been positive, others quite the opposite—all depends on the karma we create.
In each lifetime we have interacted with many beings. We have had parents, siblings, members of our own species to whom we feel close, and those with whom we are in competition or conflict. Our relationship with the being who currently sits at our feet or on our shoulder may have been astonishingly different in a previous lifetime. Or even at a different time in this one. But certain conditions combined with a very compelling cause have brought us back together.
Our relationship with parents, in particular mothers, has an important emphasis in Buddhism. It is our mothers who bore the burden of carrying us through pregnancy, enduring the pain of giving birth to us, and taking care of us when we were vulnerable and defenceless. Although many people have to cope with childhood experiences that were less than ideal, generally speaking we are encouraged to cultivate a sense of profound gratitude towards our mothers.
We are also encouraged to think of every sentient being as if he or she had been our mother in a previous lifetime. Every purring, flying, roaring and leaping being we call not only ‘sentient’ but sometimes also ‘mother sentient’ beings in acknowledgement of this potential previous relationship.
It is a powerful, mind-altering concept. Newcomers to Buddhism may find it overwhelming. It’s certainly a very different perspective from regarding pets as mere playthings: inferior, morally irrelevant and ultimately dispensable. By regarding them as mother sentient beings we are reframing the entire basis of our relationship, encouraging the cultivation of reverence, gratitude and love.
The pets with whom we share our lives have been very important to us before. We now have the opportunity to repay past kindnesses, as well as to offer them the best possible preparation for the future. In so doing we have the opportunity to create the most positive possible causes for our own future happiness. As we give, so we receive.
WE CAN DO MUCH TO HELP PETS THROUGH THE DEATH PROCESS
We live in a society squeamish and fearful about death. But avoiding this important subject does not serve us well. Buddha himself observed that focusing on one’s own death is the greatest meditation. As noted earlier, there is a profound shift both in the value we attach to our life, and in what we deem to be important, when we realise just how ephemeral our existence truly is.
Contemplating death encourages us to live with greater intensity and gratitude—but this is not the only reason we do so. By acquainting ourselves with what happens when we die, and the subsequent bardo states that precede our probable next rebirth, we are better able to manage the process when it happens to us and take charge of our own destiny during this critical turning point.
We are also better able to help others who are dying.
Among the worst of times for pet lovers is when our companions become gravely ill. Our feelings of impending loss and grief are compounded by a sense of utter helplessness. Faced with a terminal diagnosis, we may believe there is nothing we can do to help our beloved pet.
In fact, there is.
Buddhism equips us with the conceptual tools to reframe what is happening, so that we focus not on ourselves and our own feelings of devastation but on how we can best help our friend, who is going through an incredibly important time of transition, their mind moving from one set of experiences, to others.
Far from being helpless, the incredibly strong karmic connection we have with our animal companion can be used to benefit them on their journey. Grief is a natural part of what we’re going through, but we need to be strong for their sake, to undertake practices that are of benefit to them—and also to us.
Among the most-read blogs on my website are those concerned with how to be with your pet through the death process. This is why I am devoting a chapter in this book (Chapter Nine) to a subject that I cover in detail, given that it’s something most of us have to face. We certainly don’t wish for it, but dying is not only entirely natural and inevitable, many of us have it in our power to help give our pets a peaceful and positive death, setting them up for the best possible outcomes in the future. We can arguably do more for them, at this vital time, than at any other time of their lives. We are in a position of unique and great privilege and have the opportunity to act with compassion and wisdom.
BODHICHITTA IS THE MOST POWERFUL VIRTUE
Bodhichitta is the wish to become enlightened in order to lead all living beings to enlightenment. Based on compassion for the suffering we see experienced by the sentient beings all around us—not only those currently in human form—and the wish to find a permanent solution to the suffering of others as well as ourselves, bodhichitta is the most altruistic of motivations. Quite simply, no greater or more all-encompassing intention has ever been conceived.
Intention is extremely important in determining the power or weight of karma. The karmic impacts of, for example, stepping on someone’s foot by accident, versus stepping on their foot to cause pain, are completely different, even though the physical action and reaction are identical. Because bodhichitta is the most benevolent of all intentions, Tibetan Buddhism suggests that the more acts of body, speech and mind motivated by bodhichitta we undertake, the more profoundly and positively our experience of reality is affected. Step by step we move towards enlightenment.
Tibetan Buddhism encourages us to recollect bodhichitta in our every action, becoming so familiar with the motivation that it becomes spontaneous and heartfelt. The process feels contrived to begin with, but it follows established psychological principles that as we think, so we become.
Pets give us multiple opportunities to recollect bodhichitta on a daily basis. In this sense, they may contribute more to our self-development than we can to theirs. Every time we feed them, cuddle them or take them for a walk, we can affirm, ‘By this act of love/ kindness/generosity may I achieve Buddhahood to lead all living beings to enlightenment.’
Many of the practices in this book refer to bodhichitta, the mind or heart of enlightenment, described by Shantideva in a beautiful way:
The intention to benefit all beings
Which does not arise in others even for their own sake,
Is an extraordinary jewel of the mind,
And its birth is an unprecedented wonder.
How can we help our animal companions become acquainted with this same virtue? By setting them an example of how to live. By imprinting their minds with spoken words and images affirming the goal of enlightenment. By visualising, to whatever extent we are able, our bodhichitta motivation, on the basis that the ability of animals to sense our intentions may be a lot more subtle than we generally give them credit for.
All behaviour is learned, and each one of us has the capacity to engage in enlightened actions of body, speech and mind. When we do this on behalf of our pets, they become a part of our inner journey as much as we become part of theirs. In cultivating the mind of enlightenment in relation to our animal companions, we create a virtuous spiral whose end point is of incomprehensible benefit, not only to human and pet, as we define ourselves in this lifetime, but to all sentient beings to whom we have ever felt close, reaching back for millennia to our shared primordial past, and stretching into an extraordinary, shared future of boundless and ever-increasing bliss.