Background: There was a period of time in which LP Anan was using Aesop’s Fables as a tool to encourage students to think about Dharma; fables are a great way to help people see 2 sides of a story, to internalize, to become critical in identifying main points and themes. The contemplation I am sharing here was not one of these specific fable-related exercises, but rather my thoughts after hearing a Buddhism class recording in which students were discussing The Story of the Ass and the Lapdog.

The story went something like this: A master had 2 animals, a donkey and a lapdog. The donkey worked hard for his master and was treated well, but not nearly as well as the beloved lapdog. The donkey looked at the lapdog and thought to himself, “I toil all day in the field, but that dog just stays home and plays…how is it the dog is treated and fed better than me.” So the donkey,  decides he will act like the dog in hopes of getting the same reward. When he returns home from the field that day, the donkey runs over to the master, jumps in his lap and begins making noise. The master, of course, is not amused and he beats the donkey off his lap.

In the class discussion, folks were almost universally inclined to call the ass the protagonist of the story, to sympathize with a beast of burden not getting his due. But when I heard the story my thoughts went elsewhere…

I couldn’t help but think of the hardships of life as a lapdog; the tremendous hidden costs. Lapdogs lack ‘useful skills’ so their life is wholly dependent on their master. After all, you can’t expect a little dog to go out in the field and make a living or for it to know ‘the ways of the world’ enough to live in the forest with the forest animals. As a being so dependent on their master, a little dog always needs to be vigilant; alert to the master’s needs and how to meet them. If the master wants to cuddle and play, the little dog has no choice but to cuddle and play. If the master wants to be alone, the little dog has no choice but to go elsewhere. A little dog knows its value is in its cuteness/ adorableness, so it  lives with constant pressure to stay adorable always — but in this world, everything is subject to decay — will the little dog still be loved and cared for when it is ugly and old, when it can’t run as fast or jump as high to play? Plus, folks tend to look at a lapdog as frivolous and pampered, not an animal to be taken seriously.

On the outside, it may look like a lapdog has a charmed life, but trust me, I know, lap dogs are not free. You see Dear Reader,  if I am to be totally honest, I am just like that lapdog. I have been cared for, pampered, my whole life. First by my father and then by my husband. Even beyond that, I have always looked for, and been able to attract, lovers and caregivers. Rather than honing ‘useful skills’ like cooking or cleaning or a decently paying vocation, I have honed beauty, sensuality, charm,  wit, and adaptability, as currency for care. Please, please don’t get me wrong I have had loving, sincere and wonderful relationships with my dad, my hubs, and so many other lovers and friends along the way. And yet, I can’t help but empathize with the lapdog in this story and its lovely, gilded, cage.

I suppose though, I also feel for the donkey. The donkey looks ‘over there’ to a different option, another life, and thinks, “that looks better, I want that over there.” Just like I do when I see something I want (like a new life in NYC), some other possibility, the donkey sets its intention and starts scheming for ways to become that dog. How many lifetimes will a donkey focus, work and train to become a dog? How many did it take me? In the end thought it seems we have both found the same thing…new suffering in a new life.