How to Stop a Barking Dog — and Other Mindfulness Tips

Fiona is six months old and already the self-appointed guardian of our household. If a leaf flutters across the driveway, she knows. If the neighbor sneezes two yards over, she knows. And when the garbage truck rounds the corner, she springs into full-throated defense mode, barking until the perceived threat disappears down the street.

In her early weeks, we responded in kind.

“Quiet!” “Hush!” “Stop it!”

Our voices rose to match hers, and the house became a chorus of noise and frustration.

Then we learned a better way.

Now, when Fiona sounds the alarm, we calmly join her at the window, look out, and identify the culprit.

“Oh, it’s the mail truck! Thank you, Fiona.”

She looks satisfied, wags her tail, and returns to her nap.

The world moves on. So do we.

It turns out Fiona has been my mindfulness teacher all along.

Our Inner Barking Dogs

Pain, anxiety, deadlines, interruptions, they’re all barking dogs in disguise.

I’ve lived with chronic pain and immune issues for most of my adult life. For years, when discomfort arrived, I reacted just as I did with Fiona: loudly and with resistance.

“I’m hurting again.” “Why now?” “This needs to stop.”

I’d complain, medicate, and wish it away.

But resistance only seemed to amplify the barking.

Through mindfulness, I learned a new response:

When pain or anxiety arises, I pause. I notice.

I join it at the window of awareness and quietly say, thank you for letting me know. Then I return to what I was doing.

The pain doesn’t always disappear, but the struggle does.

The Ancient Teaching of Anicca

The Buddha called this truth anicca, impermanence.

Everything is changing, unfolding, arising and passing away.

Our joy, our sorrow, even our barking dogs, are part of this endless movement.

Jack Kornfield once used the image of a river to describe it:

“Life is like a river, forever flowing. Each of us is a droplet falling from the stream — for a moment, we sparkle in the sunlight, and then we return to the current. The invitation is not to resist the fall, but to trust the river.”

That’s anicca in motion.

We can’t stop the stream, but we can learn to float.

How to Practice When Life Starts Barking

Next time your own “dog” starts up, the ache in your shoulder, the ping of your phone, the sudden rush of worry, try this:

1. Pause. Stop what you’re doing.

2. Identify the sound. What’s actually happening here?

3. Acknowledge it. “Thank you for letting me know.”

4. Return to the river. Come back to this breath, this moment, this step.

In that simple act of noticing, you’ve transformed reactivity into awareness.

The Bark, the River, and the Return

Fiona still barks every day.

The garbage truck still rumbles down the street.

And sometimes, my body still protests the way it used to.

But the difference is how I meet them now.

I join them at the window, I look, I thank, and I return to what I love.

Because in this ever-changing world, peace doesn’t come from silence.

It comes from remembering that the barking will pass, the river keeps flowing, and we are already part of its gentle current.

Jan and Fiona🐶