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Beyond “Just a Dog”: Embracing Grief and Love After Pet Loss

 

As a therapist, I help people navigate loss every day. But when I lost Arley and Fiona—my two beloved dogs of more than 15 years—within months of each other, I was reminded just how raw and personal grief can be. They weren’t “just dogs.” They were family, comic relief, and constant comfort, woven into every corner of my life. 

When they suddenly weren't there anymore, every part of me noticed.  

 

Why Pet Loss Hurts So Much 

I spent 15 years building my days around Arley and Fiona: morning cuddles on the sofa, midday walks through familiar parks, and evening rituals of dinner and play. All those routines rewired my brain to expect their presence. So when they were suddenly gone, I felt like parts of me had also disappeared. Turns out, neuroscience says I wasn't imagining it.  

 

According to grief psychologist Mary-Frances O’Connor, "Grief is the cost of loving someone. When a loved one dies, it can feel like we've lost a part of ourselves because their presence is coded into our neurons." 

 

When we bond with a pet, that connection becomes deeply embedded in our brains. It’s what lets us expect our cat to hop into our lap at the end of a long day, or know our dog will greet us at the door. Even when we don't see them, our brain holds their presence close. 

 

When they're gone, that deep wiring doesn’t simply disappear. Our brains continue looking for them, expecting them. It takes many, many days of living in the world without them for the brain to start building a new understanding — a new normal — of what life looks like without our four-legged friend. 

 

Think about how much of your life you shaped around them—from when you traveled, to how late you stayed at work, to which couch you bought because you knew they'd nap there. Your brain isn't just mourning the loss of their presence; it's trying to rewire all those tiny routines, decisions, and habits that once included them. 

 

No wonder grief feels so heavy—your heart and brain are doing a lot of work right now. 

 

 

The Pressure to “Get Over It” 

 

It’s easy to feel rushed past your pain. You might hear comments like, “It was just a dog,” or “You can always get another cat.” Even well-meaning people often don't understand the depth of the bond you shared. 

 

But grief doesn’t work on a schedule. It’s not something to "get over." It comes in waves, it isn't linear, and it doesn't have an "off" switch.  

 

 

What Grieving a Pet Might Look Like 

Grieving a pet can bring many emotions and challenges, including: 

  • Profound sadness or feeling numb 

  • Guilt, especially around choices like euthanasia 

  • Loneliness if your pet was your main companion 

  • Disrupted sleep or appetite 

  • Relief, if your pet had been suffering (this, too, is a normal part of grief) 

How to Support Your Healing 

Here are some ways you can take care of yourself through this: 

  • Let yourself mourn. 

 Cry it out. Journal. Sit with their collar. Create a goodbye ritual. Talk to them out loud. It’s okay to not be okay. 

  • Honor the bond. 

 Plant a tree, make a photo album, light a candle, or donate in their name. Their love deserves to be remembered. 

  • Take the time you need. 

 If you can, take time off work. Cancel what you can. Slow down. Treat this loss as sacred and real—it deserves your attention. 

  • Find your people.  

 Seek out those who understand. If your usual support system doesn’t get it, pet loss groups and online forums can be lifelines. 

  • Give yourself permission. 

 Permission to grieve as long as you need. 

 Permission to treat this as important. 

 Permission to miss them forever. 

 Permission to smile again. 

 Permission to love another animal someday—or not. 

 

  • Watch for grief turning inward. 

 If sadness or isolation feels overwhelming, know that help is available. Therapy can be a safe place to heal without judgment. 

 

In Closing 

Grief is the price of love—and if you’re grieving a beloved pet right now, it’s because you dared to love deeply. That bond doesn’t disappear. It changes shape.  And that love is still with you—always. 

From my heart as a therapist—and from one pet parent to another—you are seen, you are heard, and you are never truly alone. Lean on your community, honor your grief, and remember that love leaves an indelible print on every heart it touches. 

 

 

Fiona & Arley: my greatest teachers in joy, love and loss. 
Fiona & Arley: my greatest teachers in joy, love and loss. 


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