Why Losing a Pet Hurts So Much: Understanding Pet Grief

For people who love animals, the death of a pet can be devastating. It is a unique kind of grief to which I don’t believe there is a comparison. And yet, pet grief is still sometimes treated as though it is somehow a lesser form of bereavement. People may expect you to be sad for a few days, perhaps a couple of weeks, and then assume life will return to normal. No sick leave, no funeral, no celebration of life.

Why Pet Loss Can Hurt So Much

Our relationships with our animals are often intimate, intertwined and profoundly dependent; our pets rely on us for practically everything (apart from the occasional bird-catching cat!). We often sleep with our pets; they are there in our mornings, there as we exercise, as we navigate our day. For some of us, they are there by our side as we work, they are there as we relax in the evening, and again as we sleep. There are few other relationships that are so constant. Our pets are often with us through life transitions, divorces, deaths, births, new jobs, new homes, illnesses – they are ever present. It’s fair to say that many of our pets know more about us than any person in our life, even though they cannot speak in words.

There are often so many habits of the heart attached to our pets: the habit of filling a water bowl, grabbing a leash, sneaking a piece of human food under the table to them. When we lose a pet, we don’t simply lose an animal we loved. We lose a relationship, a routine, a source of comfort and often an important part of our sense of home.

Pet Grief and Attachment

For some people, the bond with an animal also has a particularly important psychological meaning. Our earliest experiences of relationships help shape our expectations about closeness, safety and trust. If human relationships have sometimes been unpredictable, rejecting, critical or unsafe, relationships with animals can feel very different. For some of us, our pets are often our first experience of secure attachment. Our first experience of consistent safety.

They don’t care whether you are successful, productive, or having a particularly good hair day. They don’t care if you made a mistake, if you’re depressed, if you’re anxious. The love is quite simply unconditional. Therefore, in some situations, the grief for a pet can be intertwined with trauma, a sense of safety, and grief for not just the animal but for the versions of ourselves who have been let down by others.

Disenfranchised Grief

Pet loss is often described as a form of disenfranchised grief, which you can read more about here Disenfranchised grief is a type of grief that isn’t fully recognized or supported by the wider culture.

When a person dies, there are established rituals and expectations. People send cards and flowers. There may be paid leave from work. Friends check in. There is usually a funeral or memorial. When an animal dies, you may receive enormous compassion from the other pet people in your life and an array of mistimed and misguided statements or questions about the loss. I think many of us have heard: “Are you going to get another one?” or “Oh well, he had a good life with you.”

Most people who say things like this aren’t intending to be cruel. They simply may not understand the depth of the relationship that has been lost.

The Complicated Grief of Euthanasia

Pet grief can also contain something that many other bereavements do not: the responsibility of deciding when a life should end.

Choosing euthanasia can be one of the most loving decisions we make for an animal, and one of the most emotionally difficult. It can be the most beautiful gift we can give this creature who we have loved with all our heart, and it can be the decision that sits uneasily with us for months and years afterwards. If, like me, you have already experienced pet euthanasia, you’ll be familiar with the “Was it too soon?” “Was it too late?” “Was their last day good enough?” “Should I have tried one more treatment?”

We judge and evaluate ourselves based on information and emotions we just didn’t have at the time as our brains try to process this immense grief we are carrying.

Sometimes of course, euthanasia can be very traumatic. If a decision had to be made quickly and unexpectedly and in situations where people don’t get the opportunity to plan that loving and peaceful last day. Some of the snapshot memories from those last few hours and minutes can last for months, and we lose sight of the fact that the last day was one of many, and it can overshadow the joy from the other hundreds and thousands of days.

Rituals Matter

Humans have used ritual around death for thousands of years for good reason. Ritual gives shape to something that otherwise feels impossible to process. It allows us a place to focus our feelings, gives us a sense that this person mattered to others and a way to honour them publicly and amongst loved ones. Pet loss deserves ritual too.

That doesn’t mean you need to hold a formal funeral in the garden while your neighbours peer nervously through the curtains (though I’m also fully onboard with this). It might be the scattering of ashes somewhere meaningful; it might be writing a letter to your pet and releasing it by fire or in water; it might be gathering with some other people who loved your pet and sharing memories and funny stories as a candle burns next to a photo of your pet; it might be purchasing jewelry that contains their ashes or fur. It can be as simple or as complex and creative as you wish.

Grieving Forward

Grief often asks us not to forget someone we loved, but to find a different way of carrying the relationship forward. This relates to the concept of Continuing Bonds which can be a really beautiful way to keep connected to the pet we’ve lost. It can provide comfort and a sense of legacy and meaning. Some people like to talk to their pets, some people like to write to them, some people like to donate to a shelter every year on their pet’s birthday, some people like to have photos or paintings of their animal in their homes or offices. The relationship changes, but it doesn’t have to disappear.

Final Thoughts

If you have recently lost a pet, first of all, I am so sorry. As my clients know, my pets are a very important part of my life, and I know pet grief very well. What I would want you to remember is that there is no correct timeline to your grief; it’s messy and unpredictable, and one day you can be crying on the floor and another out enjoying a walk and memories of your furry friend. You may want another pet immediately, or you may not be able to even consider that for months or years. You may want their photos all over your home, or you may barely be able to look at one picture.

Sometimes grief simply needs time, compassion and space. Pet loss counselling can be helpful when grief feels stuck, isolating or overwhelming, or you just want to share the story of your beloved pet with someone who truly understands. As my clients can attest, my first question with my pet grief clients is: send me a picture. One of my greatest honours in this work is getting to know (and see) the stories of so many wonderful pets and hearing about their ridiculous quirks and adorable traits.

We can’t shrink grief; all we can do is try to grow around it.

Thanks for reading :)

Helen Whitehead M.C., R.C.C.

Registered Clinical Counsellor

North Vancouver & West Kelowna B.C.

Resources

https://liftingstars.ca/ (End of life pet care decisions, memorial items)

https://bcbh.ca/grief-support/pet-loss-support/ (Pet Loss Support Group)