I have a daily Zoom meditation group that’s part of Wildmind’s Meditation Initiative, and there are often a few pets in the picture. Once, someone even joked that it must be “Take Your Dog to Meditation Day!”
In many ways, pets are natural meditators. I’ve had a few cats and currently own a couple of dogs, and their ability to “just sit” and be in the moment puts mine to shame.
But sometimes, while we’re meditating, they want to get involved in ways that can be distracting. That’s what I want to talk about today.
I’m specifically talking about cats and dogs. Since I currently have two dogs and haven’t had a cat in a long time, I’ll mostly discuss dogs. Hopefully, you can adapt these ideas to your own situation.
Before I start meditating, I separate my dogs from each other. When they play together, it gets really noisy with lots of running around, wrestling, and growling. We have baby gates, so I can keep one dog in the room with me and the other dog in the next room. The one in the next room, Suki, can see through the gate, so there’s no anxiety.
If the dogs seem restless as I prepare to meditate, I give them something to distract them. Since Suki is still teething, I make sure she has a teething toy. It would be pretty distracting if she were to destroy the kitchen cabinets while I’m meditating! Sometimes I give each dog a “Kong” filled with frozen peanut butter. This keeps them busy for a few minutes and helps them settle down.
My dogs also tend to be quiet when they’re in their crates, so I sometimes use that option. However, I know not everyone has crates, and not all pets are quiet when crated.
If your pet hasn’t seen you sit still with your eyes closed before, they might be confused by you meditating. With time, they usually get used to it, although you may have to work with them until they do. A cat I had named Piglit used to sit beside me with her eyes closed, looking like she was joining in. Sometimes she’d bat at me with her paw to get my attention. One of my dogs, Luna, does this too. Sometimes she’ll even bark to get my attention, which is hard to ignore.
When this happens, I think it’s best to be empathetic. Your pet might be confused. Ignoring them can make them more confused. They often need attention. Forcing them to behave a certain way isn’t very kind. There’s no reason why your dog “should” sit quietly while you meditate. Work with them on their terms.
During an online session, I opened my eyes to see one participant sitting cross-legged between her two Labrador retrievers. She was calming them down by holding one dog’s paw and resting a hand on the neck of the other. This small degree of contact made both dogs happy and relaxed.
Most pets love touch, so simply reaching out to them can calm them down. If you need to stroke your pet to help them settle, that’s fine. Some people think this could be a distraction, but you can actually incorporate it into your meditation by petting your animal mindfully and with kindness. If I’m stroking my pet, I do it in time with my breathing.
Luna, who stays in the room with me, is small. If she’s persistent in seeking my attention, I’ll often pick her up (if she lets me) and sit her on my lap. Suki is too large for that. Having Luna on my lap makes it easier to pet her and show her reassurance. She rarely stays on my lap for more than 15 minutes before jumping back to the floor, and that’s fine with me.
I often include Luna in my loving-kindness (metta) meditation. I think of “kindness” as remembering what it’s like to look with loving eyes. For example, I’ll recall watching my kids sleep, which makes me feel warmth and tenderness. I then turn this same kindness towards myself and Luna, embracing us both in a field of loving awareness. This isn’t a distraction; it’s cultivating kindness for both myself and another being.
When Luna is on my lap, she usually enjoys having her back stroked or her tummy tickled—until she decides she’s had enough and leaves. Sometimes, though, she wants to lick my face. I accept this as part of my meditation practice, as accepting kindness is important too.
Occasionally, my dogs bark while I’m meditating, possibly because a neighbor is walking their dog or a delivery worker is nearby. When Luna first started doing this, I was annoyed, but then I realized she was emotionally aroused and possibly scared. Her barking was a sign of her trying to protect the house. What she needed was reassurance.
Without getting up, I talk to the dogs reassuringly while meditating: “It’s just a friend, Luna! Thank you for protecting the house. Good girl. You’re OK.” I’m training them to recognize “You’re OK” as a reassuring phrase. I see this as part of the meditation, not a distraction. It’s about responding to suffering with compassion, whether it’s my own anxiety or my dog’s.
Of course, you can choose to let your dogs bark. It’s an impermanent phenomenon that will pass. But living in an apartment building, I want to prevent my dogs from disturbing others and discourage unrestrained barking.
Sometimes, minimal attention is better. This morning while sitting, Suki started whining in the kitchen. I decided to let her work through her emotions on her own. It’s not in our long-term best interests if I jump up every time they whine. I need to tolerate their occasional unhappiness and be patient, knowing that their feelings are impermanent.
Deciding whether to intervene is a judgment call. Everyone and every animal is different. I keep in mind if an action is for our long-term happiness and well-being.
These are some of the situations I encounter when meditating with dogs in the house and how I respond to them. Remember, what works for me might not work for you, especially if you have different pets. I’d love to hear your experiences and methods, so feel free to share in the comments.