Our Pets Are Family, So Let's Talk About What Grieving Them Actually Looks Like

It’s weird how the world just keeps... spinning after your dog dies.

There’s no funeral procession. No cards or food delivered. No socially accepted bereavement leave. Just… silence. And maybe a rug covered in fur or their favorite toy still sitting where they left it.

If you’ve lost a pet, especially one that grew up with your family or helped shape a whole chapter of your life, you know this grief cuts deep. It’s not “just a dog” or “just a cat” or whatever someone who’s never loved a creature like this might say. It’s real grief. And it deserves real space.

Because that's just it. Pets are not just pets. They don't just exist in the background of our lives. They become part of your daily routine. They know your every move. They’ve heard your secrets. They’ve curled up beside you on some of your worst days and still looked at you like you are their sun, moon, and stars.

So when they’re gone? It’s disorienting. Everything feels quieter. Or maybe heavier. Definitely lonelier.

Why This Hurts So Much

When we lose a pet, we’re not just grieving an animal, we’re grieving a relationship built on unconditional love, presence, and loyalty. The kind of relationship that doesn’t judge or rush or expect us to be anything but ourselves. That kind of love leaves a huge mark, because it's so rare.

And when they’re gone, the grief isn’t just emotional. It’s physical. Spiritual. Disorienting. You’re not “crazy” for feeling like your world just cracked open. You're a human who deeply loved something that deeply loved you back.

The Weird, Messy Reality of Pet Loss Grief

You might cry every time you pass their leash. Or suddenly feel fine and then burst into tears because someone at the coffee shop has the same breed. You might feel guilty for not being there for the very last moment. Or wonder if you did the right thing.

This is grief. And it doesn’t need to be justified.

Let yourself:

- Name your emotions without apology: grief, relief, guilt, numbness, anger. They’re all valid.

- Talk to them like they're still around: it’s comforting, not weird.

- Say their name out loud when you need to: They mattered, and honestly, always will.

What Helps (And What Doesn’t)

Here’s what I’ve seen actually help clients (and myself) through pet loss:

Honor their memory

- Make a photo book, create a playlist of songs that remind you of them, write them a letter.

- Plant a flower or tree. Frame their pawprint. Wear a keepsake necklace or charm.

Let routines evolve, not disappear

- Still go on that walk. Still sit in your favorite spot. Maybe you cry the whole way. Maybe you talk to them in your head. Both are okay.

Journal it out

- Try the Mood Tools app or Thought Detox. Or just scribble your favorite memories until your hand hurts. It’s all valid.

Be picky about your support

- Some people just won’t get it. That doesn’t make your grief any less real. Find people who do—friends, online communities, pet loss support groups, a therapist who won't flinch when you say “she was my baby.”

Talk about it with kids, gently and honestly

- Say, “Our dog died, which means her body stopped working and we won’t see her again, but we can still love her and remember her forever.” Keep it simple, truthful, and open for questions.

If People Say the Wrong Thing (And They Will)

You might hear:

- “It was just a dog.” (Nope.)

- “Are you going to get another one?” (Time will tell.)

- “You should be over it by now.” (Not how grief works.)

Here’s your permission to say:

- “She wasn’t just a dog. She was family.”

- “I’m not there yet. I just miss them.”

- “I don’t need to be over it. I need time.”

When to Reach Out for Extra Support

Grief can get complicated, especially when it’s dismissed by others. If you're feeling stuck in sadness, unable to function, or unsure how to move forward, reach out. Therapy isn’t just for “big things.” Pet loss is a big thing. It counts.

If This Is You Right Now

If you're in it, the rawness, the crying on the floor, the quiet disbelief, I’m with you. I mean that literally: My pup is in almost every one of my sessions, curled up next to me, reminding me why this topic matters so much.

You don’t have to rush the healing.

You don’t have to explain your grief.

Just know that it’s okay to feel this as deeply as it shows up. It’s okay to love this much.

And if you want to talk, or cry, or sit in the silence with someone who gets it, I’m here.

Stay curious, stay informed, stay awesome ✨