The Pain of Pet Loss
- Silvia Fang, Mindful Child & Family Therapy
The connection between a human and an animal is often one of the purest loves we know. The moment we invited them in, we didn't just gain a pet; we saved a specific space in our household for a family member—a constant, warm, sometimes velvet-eared anchor in our daily chaos. Now, that space is empty, and the silence in the house is deafening.
For many of us, the ache began even before the physical separation, in the quiet moments we witnessed their fatigue, or saw the knowing, nonverbal goodbye reflected in their weary eyes. This vast, foundational grief is unfortunately prone to being minimized by society, a phenomenon known as "disenfranchised grief." The sharp edges of comments like "it was just a pet" or the pressure to "move on" quickly can make this period feel incredibly isolating and bumpy. Yet, this profound loss is real. It demands the same nurturing and compassionate awareness as any other significant loss. This article introduces some ideas on giving ourselves permission to feel and respect our needs to navigate the unthinkable pain of losing a pet.
Understanding the Depth of the Loss
When we talk about this loss, we’re talking about the deep and multifaceted absence of more than just a body. We lose our constant, reliable emotional anchors—the ones who offered a deep, non-judgemental cuddle without human language but palpable affection. The moment we walk through our front door, our brain still braces for that familiar, warm welcome, only to be met by a quiet floor. We lose the steady architecture of our days: the feeding schedule, the walks, and the simple peace of their breathing beside us.
The absence is jarring, creating a strange cognitive vacuum. It’s like someone removed the kitchen table in our mind: cognitively, we know it’s gone, but uncontrollably, our brain still reaches to set a glass on the same spot, hearing the sudden crash of reality. Because this relationship was so unique—as singular as a fingerprint—our grief is, too. It can manifest in deep waves of shock, intense sadness, anger, guilt, and even physical symptoms. The most important thing is simply to allow our response, whatever it is, to be.
Some Pillars of Mindful Coping
Acknowledging the Present Moment of Pain
Grief truly works like a roller coaster, changing its velocity and direction hour by hour, sometimes minute by minute. One moment we might feel calm and grounded, and the next, we can be utterly grasped by a big wave of sadness triggered by the simple sight of an old leash or a familiar patch of sun on the floor.
The first, most powerful step in mindful coping is noticing what is happening for us right now, in this moment. We turn our curious attention inward: How is my body doing? How is my mind doing? Maybe we notice the tight chest, the overwhelming heat in our face, or the watery eyes. These somatic symptoms are not mistakes; they are the physical echoes of our deep love. They all deserve holding and acknowledgement.
By checking in and simply acknowledging the present pain—without judgment or the urge to fix it—we form a new relationship with our feelings. We shift from resist (which only allows the feeling to persist) to being. This simple act of non-judgmental observation helps us recognize that we are not the sadness; we are simply the space in which the sadness is currently residing.
Creating Rituals to Honor the Bond
A significant task of grief involves transforming that tangible, physical bond into a continued, internalized bond, where our pet is deeply remembered and honored within our own heart. This process often can’t be achieved without creating some “movement.” Grief can be most painful when it is frozen—stuck inside us without flowing, outlet, or scaffold.
Our way of nourishing this continued bond is a unique derivative of the relationship we shared. As we create space for remembrance, we can ask ourselves: What were the most colorful, fulfilling moments in my time with them? What memory brings a smile to my face and warmth to my heart? Was there a sacred thing, place, or activity that I shared with them?
Rituals serve as a container, giving our love and grief a safe place to flow. It can be helpful to try something that helps us hold pieces of memory when we feel the readiness: composing a photo album, lighting a candle, writing a letter, playing a song, setting a small altar, or planting a tree in their honor. Through these conscious acts, we grant ourselves permission to hold both the sadness of goodbye and the gratitude for the time we shared.
Gently Reintroducing Self-Compassion
Grieving over a pet is often jarring and complicated, especially when harsh voices start to chime in—from the external world, or, more often, from within. We are often grasped by judgments and seemingly well-intentioned but dismissive comments, like, "Think about those who lost significant humans," or the demand to "just be strong and move on."
But the loudest critique often comes from our own inner voice, replaying the story: "I shouldn't have left that day and checked on them more often," or, "I must have let them down by choosing peace over fighting." In this space, pain is born from our being where we are, yet wishing—or being wished—to be somewhere else entirely.
When our culture often revolves around productivity, efficiency, and being "good enough," self-compassion can serve as the shield we create against these harsh currents. It sometimes takes a mindful choice to acknowledge our truth with humanness, acceptance, and kindness. Many of us find the most healing response is to hear from others: "It's hard. It makes sense. We've all been there." Maybe we can consider giving that same grace and tenderness to ourselves.
Finding the Right Support
In the midst of bearing the unbearable, we all need support, whether it comes from family, trusted friends, pet loss support groups, or professionals. Grief has a way of feeling intensely isolating, probably because our most vulnerable stories require a safe, nourishing place to be told—a space that can feel hard for some of us to find.
Reaching out for the support that truly matches our needs and situation is not a weakness; it is an act of strength, and a compassionate practice in itself. As we seek connection, we can ask ourselves: Is there a person in my life that doesn't poke at my vulnerability but always listens? Will I benefit from meeting people who have also gone through pet loss? Do I have the readiness to let people know what support I need? How can I lean into what's helpful for me and reduce my exposure to overwhelming or dismissive scenarios? For many of us, the deepest healing happens when we are finally able to tell our stories in a safe environment and have the magnitude of our love and loss heard and understood.
Moving Forward with Memory
It is almost impossible to "move on" from a significant loss, but we can learn to move forward with it. Think about the way we carried them in life: some of us shouldered our pets, some cradled them close, some tucked them under our arms, and some held them gently in our palms. Metaphorically, we do the same when they are gone. There is a way that works for us to bring them with us as we step forward. Discovering this personalized way is a question that is worth mindful consideration, self-compassion, and the gift of time to consider, discover, experiment, and internalize. At the end of the day, there is no wrong way to honor their memory, as long as we stay truthful and kind to ourselves.
We’re here to help
If you’re feeling isolated on your journey of losing a pet, reach out today to speak with one of our grief specialists at Mindful Child & Family Therapy. You don’t have to carry your grief alone. We offer a safe space for you to begin to process the feelings that have been stuck inside. Request an appointment today. Visit us at: