When a beloved animal companion dies, the grief can be profound. I know this not only because of the grief support education I’ve pursued, but because I live it.
My beloved dog, Ringo Starr, died suddenly and traumatically while in the care of someone we knew, loved, and trusted. Someone we believed would keep him safe. Someone who loved him, too. And yet, one careless decision changed everything. Ringo disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.
His death shattered me in ways I am still learning how to understand. There was shock, disbelief, anger, guilt, overwhelm, betrayal, horror, a desperate need to know exactly what happened, and the aching reality that some questions may never be fully answered. This, too, is pet grief.
Pets Are Loved Ones
For many people, pets are not “just pets.” They are family members, daily companions, emotional anchors, witnesses, comforters, and beloved beings woven into the rhythm and routines of everyday life. The bond we share with them is real and deeply wired into us. Neuroscientist Dr. Mary-Frances O’Connor explores this connection in The Grieving Brain, including how our brains must adapt when someone we love is no longer physically present. Grief researcher M. Katherine Shear has described grief as “the form love takes when someone we love dies.” That love doesn’t disappear just because our companion is no longer physically here. Their absence can touch nearly every part of the day — waking up, coming home, going for walks, preparing meals, bedtime, quiet moments, and the spaces where they used to be.
Pet grief is real grief, and like any grief, it can show up in many different ways.
Emotionally, grief can show up in ways that surprise you. You might find yourself being angry at, well, almost everything, and not really understand why. Maybe you’ve never been an angry person…until now. You might walk past the spot where your cat used to curl up in the sun and feel a wave of guilt or regret about the decisions you had to make. Or you might be sitting at the dinner table, staring at your plate, wondering how the meal even got there because you’ve been feeling so numb and overwhelmed – and you’re not even hungry.
If the death was sudden, traumatic, ambiguous, or preventable, grief may also include rage, panic, intrusive thoughts, or a relentless search for answers. Sometimes there might be feelings of relief — especially if your pet was suffering, declining, or needed intensive care for a long time. Relief does not mean you loved them less. It may simply mean your body and heart are responding to the end of suffering, caregiving, uncertainty, or fear. And of course, that uninvited guest: guilt.
Grief is not only emotional. It can be physical, too. You may feel exhausted, heavy, restless, shaky, foggy, or unable to focus. “Grief brain” is real. Sleep and appetite may change — and maybe emotional support snacks are your new diet. Your chest may ache. Your stomach may feel unsettled. Ordinary tasks may feel harder than usual. This does not mean something is wrong with you. It means your whole system is responding to a significant death.
What Is Disenfranchised Grief?
One of the hardest parts of pet grief is that it is often disenfranchised — not fully recognized, understood, or supported by others.
People may say things like, “At least they had a good life,” “You can get another one,” “Everything happens for a reason,” or “Try not to think about it.” These comments may be well-intended, but they often leave grieving pet guardians feeling even more alone. Inside, you may find yourself thinking, “The best place is in my lap,” “I don’t want another one — I want him,” “There is no reason that makes this okay,” or “I can’t just not think about it. That’s like telling someone not to sneeze. It’s not how the brain works.”
Platitudes often make people feel unsafe to share their true emotions. They do not help grief feel less painful.
To Help Someone Who Is Grieving, Start Here
What grieving people often need most is simple, yet hard to find.
- They need to be listened to.
- They need to be validated.
- They need support without advice, fixing, rushing, comparing, or minimizing.
Listen more than you talk. Reassure them that their feelings make sense, even if you do not fully understand them. Be especially careful with sentences that begin with “You should,” “You shouldn’t,” “Don’t,” or “Do.” Grief does not need to be solved. It needs to be witnessed.
Ringo’s death changed me. I am not the same person I was before he was killed. And while I would give anything to have him back, I am trying to channel my grief into something meaningful — creating spaces where others can speak honestly about their grief, say their beloved companion’s name, and feel less alone. In that way, Ringo’s love continues to guide me.
Here’s to honoring the love – and bond – that continues.