How Training My Dog Taught Me Everything I Needed to Know About Mindfulness

by The Mundane Meditator

My dog is perfect.

Never mind the chewed up shoes.

Never mind the constant leash-pulling.

She is perfect.

Well, except for maybe one pesky habit.

My dog barks as if there is an armed intruder at the door every time she hears a knock. Loud and ferocious – as she simultaneously warns me of someone’s presence and suggests to the person on the other side that they best think twice before entering.

Of course she is all cuddles and love once you’re through the door and deemed part of the pack.

Changing this habit and response has involved enormous patience and a great deal of practice.

Through the training process, I slowly realized that I was not just teaching my dog how to behave…but teaching myself how to live more mindfully.

Conditioning a New Response

How I intended to train my dog was simple, at least in theory.

I knew I needed to condition a new response when she heard knocking.

Instinctually, (and I’m sure with some bad reinforcement from me) she had learned that the appropriate reaction to someone at the door was to scream bloody murder in dog language.

I began asking for a new reply.

A knock at the door now meant:

Sit calmly and quietly at the end of the hallway.
Observe and witness who or what came through from the other side.

At the time of this training, I had started to take up mindfulness meditation. Funny how the connection didn’t dawn on me until later…

Calm awareness in the face of uncontrollable changes in the environment.

I was asking my dog to be mindful!

Practice Makes Progress

The saying is practice makes perfect…but in dog training and mindfulness, “perfect” is an unhelpful standard.

Every situation we encounter is different – each knock at the door elicits a new reaction.

I would no sooner expect my dog to never bark again than I would expect myself to walk around life in a never-ending state of blissful transcendence.

The training exercises for my dog and the meditations for myself introduced newer, healthier techniques.

When I first started meditating, remaining present was very challenging.

Sitting in meditation made me realize that, while my dog may have one trigger (the door), I had a great many more to contend with.

What were my “knocks at the door” that habitually broke my awareness?

Fears of the future. Guilt from past mistakes. Perceived slights and injustices I couldn’t let go of. Self-doubt and criticism. Things on my to-do list for the day, week, and months ahead.

Where was my human trainer!?

Soon, I came to relish each intruding thought and each surprising knock at the door.

Because these presented opportunities to practice and, for me and my dog, the cultivation of new, mindful habits grew stronger with each repetition.

Importantly, the training for my dog – and the analogous training for myself – was NOT to prohibit anyone from ever knocking at the door.

Unfortunately in life, we can’t control everything that happens, try as we might.

External changes, like a sickness or job loss, and internal stimulus, like fears or negative thoughts, will come whether we like them or not.

The only thing we can control is our response.

I understood my dog’s original reaction. The door could be scary and dangerous – that could warrant a bark.

But it wasn’t always. Sometimes it was an exciting delivery of new treats. And besides, barking just meant unnecessary stress and anxiety.

In theory, I guess I could have removed my door…

But there would be other doors my dog would have to face.

Just as there would be other surprises I had to manage my way through in life.

Instead, we had to face the door together.

With a clear intention and as much calmness and mindfulness as I could muster, each knock at the door became a perfect training session.

Ignoring the Knocking Does You No Good Either

Another distinction to be made is that I was not asking my dog to pretend the knock didn’t happen.

When someone came to the door, I did not shun her to another room, or block her view or demand a statue devoid of any emotion.

Even if that were to “solve” the problem, there would be no growth.

I wanted her to be able to face the door without the accompanying anxiety and excitement.

The analogy to my mindfulness practice was clear.

In mindfulness, we do not seek to suppress uncomfortable emotions or unwanted thoughts as they arise. Instead, we aim to acknowledge them without getting caught up in their story.

We practice awareness without engagement.

Of course this is so much easier said than done!

Mindful as I may try to be, countless things take me out of the present moment.

As much improvement as my dog has made, the occasional knock at the door will still get her going.

But now we know how to face these distractions together. We accept the interruption for what it is and work to settle ourselves down again.

Finding the Space In Between

Now, when there’s a knock at the door, there are times when I can almost see the gears turning in my dog’s head.

She hears the door.

She knows her habitual reaction is to bark.

More often than not, she manages a more mindful response.

My meditation practice is no different. Part of the practice is working to find the space between my triggers and my habitual reactions.

For most of us, (me included) this space starts out infinitesimally small. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine an opening exists at all.

Cut me off in traffic and that gap goes straight out the window.

But, in truth, there is always an opportunity to choose a different response.

For example, when I sit to meditate, my mind inevitably spins up thoughts about past decisions or actions. Out of force of habit, I will normally begin placing judgment almost immediately. The voice inside my head will loudly proclaim my ignorance or stupidity, and point out all the ways I ought to have behaved differently.

Here are some of the ways a formal meditation practice helps me:

Meditation helps me notice when a thought arises – awareness is an important first step if we want to change our default reactions.
Meditation helps me foster non-judgmental curiosity about the thought in question. I am learning to pause and stay with the bare idea without bringing an emotional charge to the table.
Meditation helps me adjust my immediate reaction. It is not the thought itself that is unhealthy – it is the judgmental response that becomes unhelpful.
Meditation helps me choose a different response to my thoughts. Judgment is not necessary. I can replace this attitude with something more positive. I can learn to react with compassion and appreciation. My inner voice might instead say: “I’m glad I made that decision because of how much I learned from it”.
Meditation helps me return to the present moment – whether that is my breath, or a mantra, or a singular point of focus. I am learning to revert to a calming mental place that is free from distractions…at least until the next thought arrives.

Meditation is an effective and joyous way to discover more space in our lives. To remind us that we have the power of choice if we can stay mindful for long enough. And to teach us that we can live intentionally if we pause instead of react.

Finding this space has involved WAY more repetitions than training my dog. In fact, compared to me, I’d say she has proven to be a pretty quick learner.

Finding even the smallest moment of space and stillness between stimulus and response is a major win for me.

Slowly, I’m learning to say: I don’t have to scratch that itch. I don’t need to identify with that pain. I choose not to internalize that negative thought.

Somehow, I’d like to think my dog is having a similar conversation with herself.

Coming to Peace With the Knocks at the Door

My dog and I are still learning.

And I am not just teaching her, but she is teaching me.

Aside from the door, she is pretty darn good at staying in the moment. Much better than me at least.

Training my dog has been a fortuitous reminder of how to be more mindful in my own life.

If I asked my dog to create a mindfulness program for me, the steps would be as follows:

Set an intention to cultivate a more calm and centered awareness.
Accept that accomplishing this is a lifelong journey of practice and discovery.
Recognize that unwanted distractions are an inevitable part of life.
Learn to appreciate these intrusions, as they are a real opportunity to overcome yourself.

All of us (humans and animals alike!) could use some more mindfulness in our lives.

Here’s to soaking up the present moment.

The Mundane Meditator is on a mission to help people see meditation as an indispensable life skill worth learning and practicing. When he is not spoiling (or training!) his dog, he writes about all things Mindfulness on his blog: TheMundaneMeditator.com He can also be found on Twitter @TMMeditator, where he shares inspirational content and ideas as he embarks on his mindfulness journey alongside you.