Zen may bring to mind the stillness of seated meditation and the discipline of monastic training. Yet the words, paintings and stories left by Zen monks also feature familiar animals, including dogs and sparrows.

In these accounts, animals prompt questions about Buddhist teachings. We also encounter monks caring for small creatures and grieving when they die.

The relationships between people and animals in earlier times cannot simply be equated with keeping pets today. Even so, these stories express feelings that may be familiar to anyone who lives with animals. Through a kōan, a local tradition and surviving works of art, we explore some of the connections between Zen and animals.

Does a Dog Have Buddha-Nature?

The first case in the Zen kōan collection The Gateless Gate (Mumonkan) is known as “Jōshū’s Dog.”

A monk asks Master Jōshū whether a dog has buddha-nature: the nature of a buddha, or the potential to become one. Jōshū answers, “Mu.”

This “Mu” should not be read as a denial of the dog’s worth. The Gateless Gate asks practitioners not to understand it simply in terms of existence, non-existence or nothingness, but to engage with this single word with their whole being. The practice is to question one’s own way of seeing, rather than settle the matter through knowledge alone. Source 1

A familiar dog becomes the starting point for an inquiry into the human mind. Here, too, we find a connection between Zen and animals.

Ryōkan and a Dog: Sharing a Meal with the Life before Him

Stories about the Sōtō Zen monk Ryōkan convey his affection for animals. One local tale, shared by Niigata Prefecture, comes from what is now the Bunsui area of Tsubame City.

One morning, as Ryōkan was about to eat on the veranda, a hungry dog appeared. He gave it some rice. The dog quickly finished and looked at him as though asking for more.

Ryōkan kept sharing his rice until even his own portion was gone. The story says that he set out on his alms round without breakfast, with the dog accompanying him. Source 2

This is a story passed down in the region. We cannot know exactly what Ryōkan was thinking at the time. Yet the simple act of sharing his own food with a hungry dog conveys the kindness that people saw in him.

Sengai’s Puppy: Beginning with Affection

Sengai Gibon, who served as abbot of Shōfukuji in Hakata, left many approachable Zen paintings.

His painting Dog, held by the Fukuoka Art Museum, depicts an endearing puppy beside the words “kyafun, kyafun,” evoking its little yelps. No knowledge of difficult teachings is needed to smile at its appearance and voice. Source 3

Another work by Sengai, a painting and inscription on a dog’s buddha-nature, relates to the kōan introduced above. Art curator Nobuhisa Kaneko suggests that it can be read as a teaching that values affection for the dog before us, and everyday life as it is, rather than elaborate reasoning. Source 4

This is one interpretation of the work. Still, the feeling of being moved by a living creature before trying to explain anything may be familiar to those of us who live with animals.

Ikkyū and a Sparrow: Grieving and Remembering

A surviving work of calligraphy offers a glimpse of Ikkyū Sōjun’s relationship with a sparrow.

The Ebara Hatakeyama Museum of Art holds his calligraphy Sonrin, dated to 1453. It records the name that Ikkyū gave to a sparrow he cherished. The museum presents “Sonrin” as a name bestowed on the sparrow, rather than as a posthumous Buddhist name. Source 5

According to the museum’s account, when the sparrow died suddenly, Ikkyū wept bitterly and buried it. He also composed a Buddhist verse mourning the bird, likening its death to the Buddha’s passing into nirvana. Source 5

This episode alone does not allow us to draw conclusions about Ikkyū’s enlightenment or attachment. Even so, his deep sorrow at losing an animal, and his wish to remember it in words, can still move us today.

The grief of losing a cherished life is not easy to put into words. Ikkyū’s calligraphy reminds us that people felt such sorrow in a distant age, too.

Treasuring the Time We Share

A question about a dog, a story of sharing rice, a painting of a puppy and words mourning a sparrow: the relationships between Zen monks and animals cannot be reduced to a single lesson.

They offer different ways of looking at life.

We enjoy an animal’s company, are moved by its small gestures and grieve when we part. Paying attention to these experiences can also give us time to reflect on what we hold dear.

In the SHALO journal, we explore Zen culture and stories in relation to everyday life. The ordinary time we spend alongside animals may be one place to begin.

Sources

The following sources are in Japanese.

  1. Engakuji, “Miso and Soy Sauce” — Nanrei Yokota, 27 May 2022.
  2. Niigata Prefecture, “12. Rice for a Dog (Bunsui Area, Tsubame City)”.
  3. Fukuoka Art Museum, reopening exhibition press release — 8 March 2019, page 4; collection record for Dog, supplied by the museum.
  4. Hobonichi, “Part 4: Sengai’s Puppy Asks a Question” — interview with Nobuhisa Kaneko, 8 May 2025.
  5. Ebara Hatakeyama Museum of Art, “Calligraphy by Ikkyū Sōjun: Sonrin”.