As a society, we are not equipped to handle grief and loss, and many people don’t know what to say to someone who is grieving.  This can be compounded when the loss is that of a pet.  Even people who are genuinely sorry and want to express their sympathy are often don’t know what to say to comfort the grieving person.   

It is difficult to know what to say, and as a result, people often, without meaning to, say the wrong things that, rather than providing comfort, only serve to upset the grieving person even more.   Sometimes, the best thing to say is to simply acknowledge the loss – because the only thing worse than saying the wrong thing is to not say anything at all.   As I’m dealing with my own grief about Amber, I’m once again reminded of how much some of the things people say hurt, even though they’re offered with the best intentions. 

I know how you feel.  Everybody experiences loss differently.  While we may have lost pets ourselves, we can’t know how the grieving person feels, because each pet and each relationship is unique. 

Saying something like “I, too, have lost a pet, and I remember how awful it feels – my heart goes out to you”  instead acknowledges the griever’s feelings without being presumptuous.

It will get better or time heals all wounds.  Grieving people know this on an intellectual level, but they sure don’t feel that way, especially not in the early stages of grief.  Trite phrases like these only serve to minimize the loss and the very real pain the grieving person is feeling now.

Acknowledge the grieving person’s sadness and pain without diminishing their emotions by suggesting that they’re only temporary.

She’s in a better place now.  It was probably for the best.   It was God’s will.  Any variation of this will not be helpful to someone who’s grieving.  Even if their belief system supports this, they’re not going to find comfort in these words, and they may, in fact, serve to emphasize their pain. 

Even if the grieving person believes that our animal friends never really die and that their spirits live on, any of the above phrases, directed at them in the middle of profound sadness, invalidate the very real pain of missing the lost pet’s physical presence.

Let me know if there’s anything I can do.  This is a classic, and natural, response to grief – we feel helpless, and we want to help the grieving person.  However, people who are grieving don’t think straight, and usually don’t know what they need help with, and reaching out or asking for help often requires more of an effort than they can handle. 

Offer to do something concrete instead, such as bringing a prepared meal to the grieving person, or running errands for them.  If you know the person very well and you think it would be acceptable, stop by to check on them.  Otherwise, call them, but accept that they may not want to answer the phone.  Leave a supportive message, and check back again a few days later.

It was only a pet.  I find it hard to believe that some people are still saying this – it is callous and uncaring, even coming from someone who’s not an animal person.  I’m fortunate that the majority of people in my life are animal people, so I’ve not heard this one personally, but I’m being told that it still happens more than you would think. 

When are you going to get another one?  Not quite as shocking as the one above, but equally inappropriate.  Grieving pet parents know that getting a new pet can never replace the lost one, but getting a new pet after a loss is a very individual decision – everyone’s schedule is going to be different.  (Read Life after Loss – Getting a New Pet for more on this topic.)

Don’t cry.  Most people are uncomfortable in the presence of others who are crying.  It is painful to see someone you care about cry, but by telling them not to cry, you are prolonging the grieving process for them. 

Tears heal and are part of the natural grieving process.  One of the best things you can do for someone who is grieving is to let them cry in your presence.  Offer comfort, but don’t make them feel that it’s not okay to cry.

There is no “cure” or “solution” for grief – it’s an individual journey.  Navigating through the grieving process is difficult not just for the person who is mourning a loss, but also for those around the person.  The best thing any of us can do for someone who is grieving the loss of a pet is to set aside our own discomfort with death and loss and gently support them in their grief.

On May 13, I had to let Amber go after a brief, sudden illness.  Less than a year and a half after I lost Buckley, I was faced with grieving yet again. 

It’s not like I hadn’t experienced loss in my life before.  Most of us who’ve reached the age I’m at have had to deal with loss.  I lost my mother in 1994 after a brief illness.  I lost my soul mate cat Feebee in 2000 after a valiant seven-month battle with lymphoma.  I lost my office cat Virginia in 2002 after a brief decline following a fourteen-year-long life with FIV.  I lost my father in 2004 to heart disease and cancer.  And as those of you who’ve read Buckley’s Story know, I lost Buckley after she was diagnosed with restrictive cardiomyopathy and given a very poor prognosis that she outlived by a considerable amount of time.  I had lots of experience with grief, and I survived all of these losses more or less gracefully.  I learned that there is only one way to deal with grief, and that’s to go through it.  There is no way around it.  You can’t run from it.   I learned about the stages of grief.  I learned that you don’t go through them step by step, but rather, that you sometimes cycle through them over and over, until, at some point, mercifully, you may find that you’ve reached the final stage, acceptance.  But even reaching acceptance doesn’t mean that you ever really get “over” a loss. 

So you’d think that with all this personal experience in grieving, I would have been better prepared to handle losing Amber.  The force of my grief caught me completely off guard.  And I realized, in the middle of the shock, the tears, and the pain, that I had never lost a loved one as unexpectedly and suddenly as I lost her.  Twelve short days, from the time that she was mildly ill to the time that I had to let her go.  I never expected her to not get better when I agreed to hospitalize her.  I always expected her to come home.   I spoke with one of the doctors caring for her at 4:30am the morning of May 13.  She had had a good night, and he thought that there might even be a chance that she could come home later that day.  Six hours later, her doctor called to let me know that she’d taken a turn for the worse.  There were other things they could medically do to try and save her, but her prognosis was poor.  I made the agonizing decision to stop treatment, bring her home, and spend the afternoon with her before my vet came to the house that evening to help her with a peaceful transition.

I’m still in the middle of the early, intense stage of grieving.  As with all my losses, there are commonalities.  Despite the incredible outpouring of love and support from not only my ”real life” friends, but also my online friends,  there are times when I feel alone in my grief, disconnected from the world around me and normal everyday activities.   I’m physically exhausted most of the time – grief takes a toll not just emotionally,  but physically.  I try to take care of myself as best as I can, by trying to eat regular meals, getting some exercise, and staying connected with friends.  But it’s hard.   Going out into the world is challenging – how can life be going on when my world has changed irrevocably?  In The Healing Art of Pet Parenthood, author Nadine M. Rosin, after losing her nineteen-year-old dog Buttons, writes:  “…being out in public felt totally bizarre, as if the world had come to an end because of some horrible disaster, life as we’d known it on the planet was over, but I seemed to be the only person who knew about it.”  I’ve rarely heard this particular emotion of feeling out of synch with the rest of the world expressed better.  I’m limiting social engagements to activities with friends who understand my grief, and I’m fortunate that most of the people in my life are animal people, and they do understand.  I simply don’t have it in me to make polite chit-chat with those who don’t. 

I know I’ll make it through this, just like I did through all my other losses.  But I am realizing that this one may leave me forever changed in ways that the others didn’t.   And perhaps it has to do with the suddenness of the loss.  I’ve always had time to prepare for loss.  While anticipatory grieving is difficult, I believe that it does help in the end – you have time to get used to the idea of eventually having to go on without your loved one.  But Amber was a healthy, happy cat who had rarely been sick in her life.  There was nothing that could have prepared me for this.   Perhaps, as I come out on the other side of this, I’ll have some words of wisdom on how to cope with sudden, unexpected loss.  For now, all I can offer is that it’s much harder, much more painful, and much more complicated than my other losses.  With the others, I rarely second-guessed myself.  I didn’t rail at the universe for having my loved one taken from me so quickly and so senselessly.  I didn’t blame myself for decisions I made during Amber’s last two weeks.  I just grieved.   With this one, I’m discovering new territory as I go through it.  When I get to a point where it makes some sense, I’ll share it with you.

What I can say is this (and I’ll do my best to take my own advice):  grief is a process.  Be gentle with yourself as you go through it.  Allow those who undertand to support you, and stay away from those who don’t.  It’s too painful to deal with people who say things like “it’s only a cat,” “you should get on with your life,” “when are you going to get another one?” and other careless things like that, or worse, those who don’t say anything at all.  Yes, it may be their own discomfort with death that makes them remain silent, but it’s incredibly painful for the person going through the loss to not receive some sort of acknowledgment.

Grief can be a transformational experience.   It rips your heart wide open, and you’ll never be the same.  It’s up to each individual whether they’ll choose to let grief destroy them, or whether they’ll do the challenging and difficult work that will ultimately allow it to be transformed into personal growth and expansion.  To honor Amber, her love, and all she has brought into my life, I don’t see how I have any other choice except to let something good come from this devastating loss.

Getting a new pet after losing a beloved animal companion can be very difficult for many pet parents.   Some are able to get a new pet within days of losing the old pet, others may take months and sometimes even years, or never get another pet again.  This is not a decision that anyone else can make for you – there are too many factors that play into it to allow for some easy guidelines, but perhaps, the following can provide a better understanding of the process.

First and foremost, every pet owner knows that it’s not possible to ever replace a lost pet, but that doesn’t change the fact that to many, it still feels like that’s exactly what they’re doing when they bring another animal into their lives.  It helps to remember that each and every animal is unique, and that your relationship with the new pet will probably be completely different than the one you had with your lost loved one.  I’d like to think that our animals would want us to open our hearts to another; that, in fact, they are celebrating when we’ve recovered from our grief over losing them enough to even begin to contemplate  a new addition to the family.

How do you know when the time is right?  This varies from person to person.  Just like grief is an individual journey, so is opening your heart to another animal.  Don’t judge others, or yourself, if you’re not ready, or if you’re ready before others may feel that it’s appropriate.  This issue can be complicated in families where one family member may be ready for another pet, but the other is still deeply immersed in grieving the lost companion.  This will require honest and caring discussions.  Don’t surprise the family member who is not ready with a new puppy or kitten – rather than bringing happiness, this may complicate their grief, and it’s not fair to a new animal to come into this type of situation.  Be mindful of other animals in the household who may also be grieving the loss, and think about whether a new pet would help them or whether it would add to their stress.

Think carefully about what kind of an animal you want to get.  You may love a certain breed or coloring, but be aware that just because you adopt another animal that may look like your lost one, the new one will not be a carbon copy of your lost pet.  He will be his own, unique personality and the two of you will form your own, unique relationship. 

Ultimately, I believe that you “just know” when the time is right.  Or, alternatively, a new animal will find you.  Opening your heart to another and beginning the joyful journey of getting to know and love a new animal companion in no way diminishes the love you had for your lost pet.   Lost love and memories can beautifully coexist with new love and happiness.

The photo above is of Allegra, our new family member.  We lost Buckley Thanksgiving weekend of 2008.  I had just begun to think about  bringing another cat into Amber’s and my life when I met Allegra.  After two visits with her, I just knew.  And for the last ten days, we’ve been getting to know this lovely little kitten and integrating her into what is now becoming a family of three again.

Making a decision about whether it’s time to let a beloved pet go is one of the hardest things anyone loving a pet will have to go through.  What can compound the difficulty of the decision is that most pets don’t like going to the vet’s.  I’ve heard from many of my readers that, until they read Buckley’s Story, they had no idea that having a pet euthanized at home was even an option.  

I write in Buckley’s Story: “There was never a doubt in my mind that when the time came, Buckley would die at home. I had never been comfortable with euthanasia done in veterinary clinics. Even though I had assisted with many of them in my years of working at animal hospitals, and they were usually peaceful experiences, I did not like the idea that an animal’s last moments would take place in such a sterile and unfamiliar setting. No matter how peaceful veterinarians and staff try to make this final transition, most pets are stressed by veterinary hospital visits, and pet owners can be left with their final memory being one of a stressful experience instead of the peaceful one it can be when done in the pet’s home.”

There are few veterinarians who offer home euthanasia. Those that do generally don’t advertise the fact.  I feel that asking a veterinarian whether they offer this service is extremely important while the pet is healthy, rather than waiting until there is a need for the service and then to find out that it is not available.

Home euthanasias can make the final good-bye a peaceful, and sometimes even beautiful, experience.  There will not be a stressful or upsetting car ride.  You won’t have to see healthy pets or other pet owners as you walk into the clinic with your pet for the last time.  By gathering family members around the pet, you can create a calming atmosphere and surround the pet with what she’s familiar with, providing comfort and support.  You can even have the euthanasia conducted outside in the pet’s favorite spot in the yard.  In home euthanasia also allows you to create a ceremony that suits your personal and religious beliefs.  You will be able to spend as much time with the pet’s body after the ceremony as you need to without being disturbed by veterinary staff.   You will be able to grieve in privacy and on your own terms.

I recently came across an online In Home Pet Euthanasia Directory and wanted to share this valuable resource with you.  The site is still under development, and not every state is showing listings yet.

Music has always been a very important part of my life.  I have what I suppose would be called “eclectic” taste ranging from hard rock and heavy metal to alternative, New Age, and classical.  Music helps energize me, inspire me, get me moving, or help me slow down.  But one area in particular where music has always been very important to me is when it comes to its healing power during times of loss, sadness and grief.

While there are commonalities when it comes to dealing with loss and grief – most of us will go through Elizabeth Kuebler Ross’ five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance) – grief is a very individual journey.  Everyone brings different experiences to each loss, and those past losses will color how we experience and cope with grief.  Different things work for different people.  What works one day may not work the next day.  Grief is not for the faint-hearted, and the only way to deal with grief is to get through it.  There are no short cuts, and if we don’t deal with it when it happens, it will come back to haunt us in the future. 

I’ve found music to be an important part of dealing with grief in my life.  The music that soothes my soul during periods of loss and sadness is the gentle, mellow, soft kind.  One album that has stood the test of time for me through a series of losses in my life is Beth Nielsen Chapman’s Sand and Water (1997).  I first discovered it after the loss of my soulmate cat Feebee.  The singer songwriter wrote all the songs on this album after she lost her husband to cancer.  The lyrics are poignant, and the music is beautiful.   These haunting words from the title track have always felt comforting to me:

All alone I came into this world
All alone I will someday die
Solid stone is just sand and water, baby
Sand and water and a million years gone by.

Another song on the album that has always spoken to me is No One Knows But You:

I’ll cry this empty canyon
An ocean full of tears
And I won’t stop believing
That your love is always near.

These lyrics, to me, perfectly express the heartbreak of missing the physical presence of our loved ones in imagery that is very powerful to me.

Other music that has comforted me through times of loss includes Jimmy Buffett’s Ballads collection – granted, an odd choice, but it was the only thing I could listen to for weeks following my mother’s death.  After Buckley’s passing, I made a mix cd of several songs that resonated with me, including Diana Krall’s When I Look In Your Eyes.   My frien d Diana Bridge dedicated this song to Buckley at a performance she gave less than a week after Buckley’s passing.  Other songs on the cd are Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On, Carly Simon’s Like a River, and Warren Zevon’s Keep Me In Your Heart.

It can be difficult to feel our connection with our lost loved ones when we’re in the throes of grief.  Music can be a gentle way to help us connect with our hearts in a way that allows us to feel the connection, even if only for a fleeting moment.

For those of us who share our lives with animals, it’s inevitable that at some point, we will be dealing with losing these beloved friends.  Over the last ten years, I’ve lost three cats, and I’ve helped many clients through pet loss during the years I worked in veterinary clinics.  As a result, I’m often asked how to cope with losing a pet.

Different things work for different people.  Each situation is unique.  Was the death sudden?  Did it come after a prolonged illness?  Was it the first time the person experienced losing a pet?   I share my own experience of dealing with pet loss and grief in Buckley’s Story, and maybe my readers will find some commonalities with what I went through.  Even though no two people will deal with pet loss in exactly the same way, I’ve found some common things that can help ease the pain at least a little.  I’ll also share some resources at the end of this article that have helped me when I’ve had to deal with grief and loss.

Acknowledge that losing a pet is a very difficult experience.  Many people, especially people who don’t have pets, don’t realize that losing a pet can often be far more difficult than losing a person.  Many of us view our pets as children, especially if we don’t have children of our own.  For most pet owners, losing a pet is very much like losing a child.    Don’t let anyone tell you that you should “get over it,” “it was only an animal,” or, even worse, “you can always get another one.”  Expect to feel the same emotions you would feel after a person close to you dies.  In Elizabeth Kuebler Ross’ model, the five stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and eventually acceptance.  Expect that some of these stages may be magnified after losing a pet.

Mark the pet’s passing with some sort of ritual.  It’s important to acknowledge that your pet is gone.  A ritual can be something as elaborate as a memorial service and burial ceremony, or something as simple as lighting a candle in your pet’s memory each night for a little while.

Find supportive family and friends.  Not everyone in your life will be able to handle your grief.  It’s important that you find people who are comfortable with being supportive, can handle letting you cry, listen while you talk about your pet, or who can just quietly sit with you.  Many people don’t know what to do or say when faced with someone who is grieving, so, afraid of saying the wrong thing, they don’t say anything at all.  This can make you feel even more isolated during a difficult time.  Try not to judge people for their inability to handle your grief, and spend more time with those who can.

Allow yourself time to grieve.  There is no way around grief – the only way to deal with grief is to move through it.  If you try to ignore it, it will catch up with you when you least expect it.  You may need to spend an afternoon or an evening crying.  You may not want to distract yourself all the time.  While it’s not healthy to get stuck in your grief, pretending that nothing is wrong is equally unhealthy.  Try and find a balance.

Find things that comfort you.  Whether it’s a walk, music, a favorite book, looking at photos of your pet, or a perfect cup of tea, find small things that provide comfort for you. 

Getting over the loss of a pet takes time, and it takes being gentle with yourself.  If you find that you simply can’t cope, and that even supportive family members or friends aren’t enough to help you get through this difficult time, consider getting professional help.  And know that even though it seems hard to believe when you’re in the middle of grieving the loss of an animal friend, there is truth to the old adage that time heals all wounds.  It does get a little bit easier as time goes on, and one day, upon waking up in the morning, instead of your first thought being about your pet being gone, you’ll find yourself remembering something wonderful about your departed friend.

Resources

http://www.veterinarywisdom.com/ is a wonderful site for anyone looking for information on pet loss. The understand that it’s hard to face the future when you know it won’t include your beloved animal companion, and they offer a plethora of resources to prepare for and cope with pet loss, as well as to celebrate and cherish the pets we love.

http://www.petloss.com/ provides information on how to cope with pet loss, a bulletin board to exchange messages and gain support from others grieving the loss of a pet, healing and inspirational poetry, and links to other internet pet loss sites.

For Every Cat an Angel and For Every Dog an Angel by Christine Davis.  These little books are wonderfully illustrated and celebrate the connection between a human and his or her forever cat or dog.

The Loss of a Pet by Wallace Sife is a comprehensive guide to pet loss, filled with practical suggestions, resources, and most importantly, compassion and understanding.

Private Pet Loss Consultations:  I offer phone consultations to help you navigate through your grief.  Sometimes, talking to someone who has experienced this devastating loss can make a difference.