The Profound Grief of Losing a Pet: When Companionship Ends, So Does a Part of Us
In Australia, as in many parts of the world, pets are more than just animals; they are cherished members of the family. With a significant portion of households sharing their lives with a dog or cat, the bond formed is deep and often irreplaceable. Yet, despite the widespread presence of animal companions, a pervasive stigma surrounds the profound grief experienced when these beloved pets pass away. While human bereavement is met with expected empathy and understanding, the sorrow felt over the loss of an animal friend can be met with dismissal or a lack of grace. However, emerging research is shedding light on the severity of this grief, suggesting that the pain of losing a pet can be as intense as mourning the death of a human family member.
This new understanding has led to calls for a re-evaluation of how we classify and support grief. Specifically, it’s been recommended that guidelines for diagnosing prolonged grief disorder (PGD) – a debilitating mental health condition marked by intense despair that can linger for months or even years – should be expanded to formally recognise the impact of pet loss.
The Loneliness of Pet Bereavement
Annalisa de Carteret, the pet loss support manager at Blue Cross, an animal welfare charity, highlights the profound sense of isolation that often accompanies pet bereavement. “Pet grief can be really lonely,” she states. The charity offers a free bereavement service that extends beyond just the death of a pet. “It could be that someone has to rehome their animal following a family breakdown,” she explains. “Their animal could have been stolen. And it may not even be your pet – it could be an animal you’re working with or a friend’s pet. As humans, we have a huge emotional connection with animals.”
While the service provided is not formal counselling, it offers a vital lifeline. Trained volunteers, who have personal experience with animal grief, listen and provide support. “We can’t take away people’s pain, but we can validate their feelings and make them feel less alone in their grief,” de Carteret explains. She addresses the guilt some individuals feel for being more deeply affected by an animal’s death than by the loss of a human relative. “These animals often live in our home. We’re responsible for them and they’re a constant presence. They’re with you through bad times and good. Losing them can be a huge loss.”
To illustrate the depth of this experience, we spoke with three individuals who shared their personal journeys of pet loss and its lasting impact.
When Compassionate Leave is Denied: A Nurse’s Story
Josh Hodgson, from Darlington, was just 21 when he welcomed Diesel, a boisterous border collie puppy, into his life. “I totally fell in love with him,” he recalls with a warm smile. As a newly qualified nurse, caring for an energetic puppy presented a delightful challenge, a joyous learning curve. “He was curious, affectionate and extremely intuitive,” Hodgson remembers fondly.
Their bond grew over nearly 12 happy years. “Our relationship wasn’t as long as I’d hoped, but I cherished every moment that I had with him,” he says. Tragically, after a brief period of declining health, Diesel was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma, an aggressive form of cancer. Diesel passed away just 10 days later, leaving Hodgson devastated.
“When Diesel was wheeled out of the room at the vets, it felt like a building had been dropped on me,” he describes, his voice tinged with the lingering pain. “It was completely earth-shattering – uncontrollable anguish – like physical pain. Life went into complete free fall.”
Hodgson’s grief was all-consuming, and it took time for things to feel manageable. “Initially, I could only manage about 30 minutes before bursting into tears,” he admits. “It was a life-altering experience.”
He recounts a poignant moment about 18 months after Diesel’s death: “I went camping by myself in the Lake District. I was sitting reading a book by a river when it occurred to me that it was the first time I’d actually felt content in 18 months.”
However, the lack of support from his previous employer was a significant source of distress. “My line manager tried to be sympathetic, but he’d make invalidating and dismissive comments about my grief. It was quite damaging at a time when I already felt crushed.” Hodgson was in no state to work following Diesel’s passing and was forced to take sick leave. His former employer, like the majority of organisations, did not offer compassionate leave for the death of a pet. “Fortunately, I had a really good sick leave package, so I didn’t have to worry about loss of earnings, but the majority of people aren’t in that position,” he points out.
As a senior manager now, Hodgson is in a position to advocate for a more trauma-informed approach to all forms of grief. He believes companies should offer staff more discretion in such scenarios. “I’m not interested in who or what you’ve lost – it could be a job, a partner, a pet,” he asserts. “If you’re grieving, that’s the bit we need to support people with. This shouldn’t be seen as progressive.”
He continues, “The evidence tells us that the impact of grief is not a new thing at all. I experienced a very prolonged trauma that had a profound physical and mental impact on me; it’s as valid as any grief.” Hodgson advocates for a shift in focus, urging people to prioritise the pain individuals are experiencing over the reason behind it. “It’s more about seeing it as grief and respecting the effect it can have on a person.”
“The Blue Cross Saved My Life”: A Companion’s Unwavering Love
Michelle Weller, from Wiltshire, speaks of her liver and white springer spaniel, Bailey, who died at the age of nine, with an emotion that mirrors the profound connection often seen in long-married couples. “You know when you see couples that have been married for 60 years who are just inseparable and then one passes away shortly after the first because they can’t live without them? That’s how I felt about Bailey,” she says. “He was the absolute love of my life. I’ve been married and divorced but I’ve never felt like this.”
Weller had owned dogs before, but Bailey entered her life at a crucial moment when her children were leaving home. “I had nobody and it was just me and my boy against the world,” she recounts. “My life revolved around him – working hours, feeding schedule, walks… we had every holiday together. But people say ‘it’s just a pet’.”
Weller describes Bailey as “a dog version of me” – “Stubborn, driven and I don’t sit still. So, me and a springer spaniel were a match made in heaven.”
After nine cherished years, Bailey collapsed during a walk. “He had a massive tumour in his liver which ruptured,” Weller recalls. Despite the best efforts of the veterinarians, Bailey sadly passed away shortly afterwards, shattering Weller’s world.
“I remember hearing a scream when the vet took him away and realised it was me,” she shares, her voice trembling. “After that, I was mute for about a week.”
When she collected Bailey’s ashes, the vet provided her with a card for the Blue Cross. “About four weeks later, I called them. They answered the phone really quickly and I cried for two hours. The woman on the other end of the line just kept saying, ‘I’m here, I’m here’.”
She elaborates, “Everyone else was trying to fix me… but the Blue Cross gave me space to talk about him and my memories – and loads of coping strategies.”
Weller laments that not everyone understands pet bereavement. “I have a 15-year-old cat and, without sounding horrible, if anything happened to her, I’d be sad – but I’d probably go to work tomorrow. But I know someone that lost their cat and was distraught for a year. I just don’t think you can put a label on people’s feelings.”
Four years after losing Bailey, Weller has lost count of the marathons she has run in aid of Blue Cross in his memory. She passionately states, “I will keep banging my pet bereavement drum because it can be the most heart-wrenching thing; it can destroy people. I had family around me, but some people don’t have anybody but their pet, whether that’s a cat or a fish or whatever. It’s personal.”
Dougie’s Loss: More Profound Than Expected
Patricia Noble, from Aberdeenshire, speaks of her dachshund, Dougie, with a deep affection. “Dachshunds are little dogs, but they have such spunk,” she says. “They’re incredibly loving, protective – and very attached to their person. And I was Dougie’s person.”
Noble describes Dougie as a “kind of support dog,” having lived with recurrent depression throughout her life. “Dogs don’t worry if you’re having a bad day – they take you as you are. He was a wonderful companion.”
Dougie’s departure from Noble’s life was sudden and unexpected. “Dachshunds are prone to back trouble and he’d had a prior back operation,” she recalls. “My husband had taken him out and he’d been running along the beach when his back just went.” At 11 years old, Dougie was deemed too old for further surgery. “He went from running along at 10 am, to being gone by 4:30 pm. I was in absolute shock.”
Noble describes her grief as “very full on.” She states, “I cried solidly for about six months. My dad died a few years previously but Dougie’s loss felt more significant – not because I didn’t love my dad, but because Dougie was with me 24/7. He was my wee soulmate.”
After a couple of months, Noble found herself in “quite a dark place.” She admits, “I would go home and absolutely howl. That’s when I reached out for help.” She contacted Blue Cross and began a nine-month email correspondence with a trained volunteer. “I don’t think I’d have been able to speak to someone over the phone at that point,” she says. “Just that contact every few weeks helped me believe I could make it out the other end. I remember thinking ‘if I can get out the end of this dark tunnel, I’ll train to become a volunteer listener myself’.”
It’s a promise Noble has kept. “I’ve done around 800 contacts with callers now,” she tells me proudly. “It’s very rewarding.”
A recurring issue for those seeking support is the lack of understanding from their loved ones. “We often get people saying ‘my family doesn’t understand’,” she notes. “Some say that their partner won’t talk about it. And that’s where we can provide this invaluable service. We can’t always understand what’s going on for somebody, but we can appreciate it if they are upset.”
Noble concludes, “The animal-human bond is huge and the more you invest into it, the harder the break. And when you lose a pet, the loss is quite deep and that’s something society doesn’t always understand.” She acknowledges that loss is not something people typically consider when bringing a new puppy home. “Love and loss is part of the human condition,” she reflects. “We would never have a partner, marry or form friendships if we only ever thought about the negative loss.”
For more information about Blue Cross’s animal bereavement service, please visit https://www.bluecross.org.uk/.
