Two years ago today, I said goodbye to my beautiful dog, Waffle.
Time has a way of softening the sharp edges of grief, but it doesn’t erase love. Even now, there are moments when I find myself thinking of her without warning and I smile. It’s not that I miss her any less; I smile because some souls leave such a powerful imprint on your life that they never really leave you.
Waffle was the gentlest soul I have ever known. She moved through life with an elegant grace that seemed almost effortless. She never demanded attention or made a fuss, existing instead with a calm, content inner peace. Just being near her had a way of slowing my breathing and quietening my mind, sharing a contagious stillness that ultimately inspired me to call her my ‘Buddha dog.’
The Intuitive Meditator
Whenever I sat down to meditate, Waffle would come and lie beside me without any need for coaxing or commands. She would simply settle herself, as though she instinctively understood that this was a moment for quiet reflection. Looking back, I realise she was teaching me far more about true meditation than I ever understood at the time.
While I was sitting there trying to quiet my racing thoughts, counting breaths and working hard to achieve a state of calm, Waffle was already there. She didn’t need a technique because her entire existence was a masterclass in effortless alignment.
Animals have a remarkable way of living entirely in the present. They don’t spend time replaying yesterday’s mistakes or worrying about tomorrow’s uncertainties. They greet each day and each person they love, with an openness that asks for nothing in return.
I can still vividly picture coming home after a long day to find Waffle waiting at the door, her tail wagging with a genuine happiness that instantly dissolved whatever kind of day I’d had. In those few moments, nothing else existed except the simple joy of being reunited; a welcome that washed away the rest of the world and left me entirely at peace.
Three Lessons in Stillness From a ‘Buddha Dog’
As I’ve reflected on her life over the past two years, I see now that Waffle taught me lessons I often search for in books and meditation.
1. Peace isn’t something to chase. We spend so much of our lives searching for calm as if it’s a destination to reach or a prize to be won. We buy the books, we try the techniques and we look outside of ourselves for a quiet mind, but Waffle showed me that peace isn’t something we have to track down. It is already here, waiting for us to stop running. It is found in the simple act of sitting still, letting go of the need to fix or change anything and gently dropping into the present moment.
2. Love doesn’t need to be loud. In a culture that often equates love with grand gestures, passionate words or constant demands for attention, Waffle loved tenderly. Her presence was a steady, silent anchor in the room and it was far more profoundly felt than any loud declaration. She reminded me that gentleness is never a form of weakness; it is a quiet, resilient strength, one that doesn’t need to force its way into the world to leave a long-lasting mark on our hearts.
3. Worth isn’t measured by doing. We live in a world that constantly celebrates busyness, achievement and endless striving, subtly telling us that our value is tied to our productivity. Yet Waffle never once wondered whether she was “enough.” She didn’t measure her day by what she accomplished or look for validation outside of herself. She simply existed, fully and completely, offering her companionship and trust without conditions ~ a beautiful reminder that our true worth lies not in what we do, but in who we are.
Waffle’s Enduring Presence
Perhaps we could all learn a something from the pets who ask for so little and give so much. They inhabit a world free from the weight of our human expectations and instead, simply offer their presence, their trust and their love without conditions. They teach us that the most profound gifts don’t need to be earned, they just need to be received.
Today, July 1st, marks exactly two years since she transitioned. The sharpness of the initial loss has faded, but the warmth she brought into my life remains completely untouched by time. I still remember her peaceful, docile nature and every single joyful welcome home.
Waffle was a dog, but she was also one of my greatest teachers. My beloved Buddha dog, whom I will always hold in my heart with deepest gratitude.
In loving memory of Waffle (22 November 2009 – 1 July 2024)
Patrizia Pisano 