Losing a Beloved Pet in Our Life

I just received word from my sister-in-law and brother-in-law in Oregon that they lost their beloved pet dog. They have had several dogs over the years, but as many of you know and have experienced, to lose a pet is like losing a member of your family.

Many years ago, our first family pet was a cat named Fluffy. Fluffy came into our lives when my daughter was in preschool, about 4 or 5. Someone had abandoned a kitten at the preschool and Keiko brought her home. She walked in the door carrying the kitten and said, “Can we keep her?” How could anyone say no to that?  We adopted her and my daughter named her Fluffy.  

Fluffy grew up with our kids over the course of the next 16 years or so. When my daughter was in college, Fluffy approached the end of her life. Keiko stayed by Fluffy’s side for about three days, just lying next to her and trying to comfort her. It was like losing a best friend for my daughter, and for the rest of us, it was like losing a member of our family.  

After she passed, we held a little service for her in front of our Obutsudan. We chanted the Juseige and then I offered a little message. I shared that although we took Fluffy in as a kitten and provided a home for her for all of those years, she was the one who gave more to us in her companionship and loving warmth.  

In Buddhism, animals are regarded as sentient beings on the same level as humans. We are not above animals, but we too stand on the same ground as sentient beings.  

It made me reflect on our life as humans. Can we say that we gave more of ourselves as a human being than what we took from the world during the course of our life? To be able to be like Fluffy, and to give warmth, unwavering companionship and devotion for your entire life, can I say the same thing about my own life when it comes to an end?  I really doubt it.  

Our pets give us so much more than what we give them.  

Recently, I met a woman who raises puppies to become guide dogs for the visually impaired. She takes the puppy in, nurtures and raises them for one to two years in preparation for their “acceptance” into a guide dog program, where they eventually become full-time guide dogs.  

I asked her, “Isn’t it hard to give them up after you have raised them?” 

She replied that it was hard, but just knowing how much they would be able to help a visually impaired person comforts her to know she has raised the guide dogs that is able to help their owner and master in so many ways. 

She shared how skilled and intuitive a guide dog can be. A guide dog not only shows the way for their owner, but is aware of things like a low ceiling or something that their owner might bump their head against, so they go around such obstructions. It is amazing what a guide dog can do for their owner.

Animals are now being used as therapy and can bring warmth and light to those who are physically or mentally suffering. Some years ago, I met a therapist who did that exact thing, and she had a farm with many animals, but she was a therapist. Her therapy “method” was to bring her patients to her farm and let them just be around and interact with the animals. The animals brought light and warmth to them.

We receive light and warmth from the Dharma, from the teachings, from Namuamidabutsu. We receive light and warmth from our pets as well.  When they pass, we deeply miss them, but we can reflect on the light and warmth we received from them in life, and we can reflect on what we can do as a human being to give something to the world while we have this brief life of our own.