Orange County Buddhist Church
Orange County Buddhist Church
My Dog Spot
A warm Happy New Year to all of you. The year 2006 is the year of the dog in the Chinese Astrological system. Presently we have a pet cat, but growing up on our farm in Oregon, we always had a dog, and usually a bunch of stray cats that would make our farm their home. This month I would like to share with you some things of life and Buddhism that I have learned from our dogs over the years.
Our first dog we had on our farm was a stray dog who just wouldn’t leave. I can remember as a young kid that we tried to chase the dog away, but he kept coming back. When we finally decided to keep him, it didn’t take long for him to become a part of the family.
We named him Shorty because he had these short legs. Soon Shorty did what every one of our farm dogs did….serve as a watchdog for the farm. He would bark whenever a strange vehicle would pull into our farm letting us know there was a stranger around.
I don’t know how old Shorty was when he first came to our farm, but in a few years he grew old and was on his last legs. He was listless and slept all the time. He just wasn’t his old self. We all knew what was inevitable. As a kid though, we didn’t want Shorty to die. I can remember getting one of my cousins penicillin pills that she took for rheumatic fever and crushing it up and trying to feed it to Shorty. I wanted to cure him of whatever was making him ill and causing him to die. It was of course, no use, and in time he died.
The day Shorty died I will never forget. It was the first funeral that had a big impact on me. On the farm, the farm dog is a friend to everyone, not just our families. He is a friend to all the workers and friends and neighbors. When Shorty died, the whole farm stopped work. Two of our workers, two big and strong guys that worked for us, dug a nice grave beneath a nice tree in my grandfather’s vegetable garden. Everyone was there, every farm worker, and every member of our families, my Uncle’s family and our family. Together we all buried Shorty. It was first real lesson in impermanence for me. It was sad for all of us. I can even remember our tall, husky worker, a guy like John Wayne, shed a tear for Shorty.
In Buddhism, dogs are sentient beings, just like we humans. Zen Buddhism has a famous koan that revolves around a dog. The koan or Zen religious riddle states, “Does the dog have Buddha Nature?” It is a puzzle that is given to the Zen student to ponder, to break through to enlightenment. The student must go before the Zen Master and give an answer to the koan. I have never done this before, but from what I understand, it is absolutely terrifying to go before the Zen Master and to not have an answer to the koan. Let me relate what this scenario might be like if it were to happen to me.
The Master has given me the koan, “Does the dog have Buddha Nature?” What does this mean? Clearly a dog cannot become enlightened like humans? A dog can’t meditate or chant sutras. My answer for the Master is, “No, the dog does not have Buddha Nature.” With that reponse the Zen Master strikes me with a stick and admonishes me to meditate some more on the koan.
The next day I go before the Zen Master again to give me answer. I think to myself, “Gee, yesterday I said no and he hit me. Today my answer will be yes, the dog has Buddha Nature.” With that answer the Master says, “Wrong answer!” and strikes me with a stick. What’s the right answer? I say no and he hits me. I say yes and he hits me. What is the answer?
The answer is not a yes or no answer. The answer must come from beyond your ego self, something that the Master can see and sense. It is not an answer that you can figure out in your head. That is why it is so terrifying to face the Zen Master each day without an answer to your koan.
When I was in college, I took a course on Zen Buddhism and first learned this koan. At that time we had a dog named Spot on our farm. Spot didn’t have a single spot on him, but somehow he was named Spot. I guess we had exhausted most other names for dogs by then. I thought to myself, “Does Spot have Buddha Nature?”
During one of my college breaks I was home for a visit. I was playing with Spot and I noticed that he had chewed up my Dad’s slipper. Of course I showed it to Spot and scolded him for chewing up my Dad’s slipper. Spot ran away with his tail between his legs and laid under our pickup truck. He was in the dog house.
A couple of minutes later, Spot came out from under the truck and came running up to me, licking my face and wanting to play. It suddenly dawned on me, the answer to this koan. Spot not only has Buddha Nature, he manifests it, he expresses it much more than me. Spot is way closer to enlightenment than I am. Although I had scolded Spot just two minutes before, he had forgotten it and wanted to play. I thought about myself. If I am scolded or someone gets mad at me, I stay mad for days. I could never forget it in just a minute or two. Spot is way more selfless, way more enlightened than me.
That was a wonderful lesson then, as it is still a wonderful lesson now. Our pets and other animals can be not only great companions and friends, they can be great teachers and Bodhisattvas for us as well.
When Spot died, I had my only little funeral service for him in front of my little Obutsudan. I wasn’t a minister yet, but I gave him a Buddhist name anyway, which was, “True Friend.”
In this year of the dog, I continue to remember and learn from the wonderful dogs who have been friends and Bodhisattvas to me in my life.
In Gassho,
Rev. Marvin Harada
