The stages of grief after losing a pet are denial or shock, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, and acceptance, plus a seventh stage: making meaning. They rarely happen in order, and after 15+ years with a pet, moving through any of the stages can feel like an impossible task. I’m Paige Rechtman, a licensed therapist (and bereaved pet parent). Here’s what I learned about the stages after losing my cat, and how to move through each one.
If you’re a pet parent, you know the worst part about having a pet it isn’t cleaning up their poop. Or the torn-up furniture. It isn’t even the expensive vet bills.
It’s the fact that one day, you will have to say goodbye.
Your pet is going to get old (if you’re lucky). And eventually, their body will no longer be able to house their beautiful soul.
We never get enough time with our pets. Even if they lived a long and happy life.
Back in June, I was finally forced to say goodbye to my best friend. My soul-creature. My perfect, one-of-a-kind cat, Squiggles. For the past few months, I have been slowly moving through the stages of grief after losing her.
And it’s really, really hard.
My special bond with Squiggles
I’ve had Squiggles since the day she was born. Our other cat, Flopsy, gave birth to her when I was just 16-years-old, which was almost 22 years ago.
And boy did she live her 9 lives to the fullest! She lived in 3 different states, got lost in the wilderness for a whole week, and traveled cross-country with me for 4+ months during Covid.
The bond she and I shared, without a doubt, is one of the most meaningful I will ever have in my life.
She could communicate her needs to me with a single look on her face, and would even lick the tears from my eyes when I was crying.
And for the past 15+ years, I have been *trying* to prepare myself for the reality that one day, Squiggles would die.
And that I would somehow have to continue on without her.
Why Grieving a Pet Is So Hard
When you lose a pet, especially one that you’ve had for a long time, you might face unique challenges around your grief.
Even though you’re going through painstaking sadness, it might seem like your friends aren’t checking in. Or don’t know what to say.
Everyone seems to forget that your life has been forever changed. Which may cause you to feel like you should move on quickly, or not be as sad as you are.
The sadness you feel about losing your pet is valid. There is nothing wrong with you.
A recent study found that when a pet dies, society doesn’t deem it as serious as when a human dies. This lack of validation can cause you to have unresolved feelings about your pet’s death. Which can lead to disenfranchised grief – having nowhere to put your feelings after a loss.
But losing a pet is one of the most devastating life events one can go through. Especially if the loss was sudden, traumatic, or drawn out.
And even if your pet lived a good life, when the time comes to let them go, it can feel like an impossible pill to swallow. Here’s why.
1. Your Pet Is Your Family
Even though your pet is an animal, one fact remains: your pet is also part of your family.
And for some pet-lovers, the bond you create feels like even more; a pet might feel like part of your identity. Or even like an extension of your soul.
So when a pet dies, you don’t just lose an animal.
You lose a cherished loved one. You lose a piece of yourself.
Acknowledging the depth of your bond and validating how you feel is essential to healing. And being around others who “get it” will help too.
2. You Lose One Of Your Greatest Sources of Comfort
Your pet provides more than companionship – they can become a major source of comfort and help you relieve stress. So when the one thing you would turn to when you’re feeling sad is no longer there, it may seem impossible to find relief. You can feel more isolated and alone than ever.
Remembering your pet, or looking at photos and videos may feel really hard at first, and unleash a floodgate of tears. There is nothing wrong with releasing your emotions when and if this happens, and can actually benefit you.
Eventually remembering your pet in this way can provide the comfort you’re seeking when longing for your pet.
And, talking to others about them can also ease some of your pain and help you feel less alone.
3. Your Pet Is A Part Of Your Daily Routine
Typically, you spend more time with your pet than anyone else. When that presence is gone from your life, it completely disrupts your routine and makes you feel like you have no reason to get up in the morning.
Now that many of us work more hours from home, we have grown an even deeper attachment to our pets, because they are with us all day long.
If your pet was always by your side, you may automatically turn to talk to them, forgetting that they are gone. You are constantly reminded of the loss, from the time you wake up until you fall asleep. And perhaps in your dreams too.
Give yourself time to get used to your new routine without them there. And have compassion for yourself as you move through your new normal.
4. Your Pet Loves You Unconditionally
The bond and connection that you create with your pet is rare and unique. Relationships with humans come with more complications, more drama, deep insecurities and fears of what others may think.
With a pet, you can be completely who you are, and they will love you no matter what.
And even though your pet can’t quite communicate their feelings with words, you know in your heart how much they love you.
Stages of Grief After Losing A Pet
Grief is something you can try to understand logically, but you have to let yourself experience it to get through it.
What this means is, you can’t skip over your emotional pain. Or bury it forever. Try to let yourself be with it.
Easier said than done, right?
There really isn’t a right or wrong way to grieve. But understanding the different stages of grief after losing a pet, and pinpointing which stage you might be in at any given moment, offers some space for your feelings.
The Stages of Grief After Losing a Pet (Quick Overview)
The stages of grief after losing a pet are denial/shock, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, and acceptance — plus a bonus stage, making meaning. Grief isn’t linear, so you may move through them out of order, revisit ones you thought you’d passed, or feel several at once. There’s no set timeline and no wrong way to grieve.
- Denial / Shock — it feels unreal; you may be numb, foggy, or unable to cry at first.
- Bargaining — pleading with or making promises to a higher power to bring them back.
- Guilt — especially around euthanasia, accidents, or for letting yourself have fun again.
- Anger — at yourself, your vet, loved ones, even your pet for leaving.
- Depression — the longest, heaviest stage, as the reality settles in.
- Acceptance — not “being over it,” but adjusting to a life that’s forever changed.
- Making meaning — channeling the loss by honoring your pet — through art, a memorial, fostering, helping others.
Grief is something you can try to understand logically, but you have to let yourself experience it to get through it.
What this means is, you can’t skip over your emotional pain. Or bury it forever. Try to let yourself be with it.
Easier said than done, right?
There really isn’t a right or wrong way to grieve. But understanding the different stages of grief after losing a pet, and pinpointing which stage you might be in at any given moment, offers some space for your feelings.
Denial/Shock (“I still call out their name.”)
This is what many experience as the first stage of grief after a pet dies. It feels like what is happening is completely unreal.
You may not be able to cry or feel sad because you are so in shock. You may have moments where you reach out to touch them, then suddenly remember they are no longer around.
It may feel impossible to focus, to sleep, to wake up, or be around others.
You may feel like you’re in a haze.
These symptoms may feel even stronger if you witnessed the death of your pet, or it was traumatic.
Typically this stage of grief will not last more than a few days. But remember, it might come and go in waves for months after your pet is gone.
Bargaining (“I just want them back.”)
The bargaining stage of grief is a period when you try to make promises to a higher power in exchange for helping your pet survive. Or you find yourself begging for relief from the pain.
For someone who may have a terminally ill pet, or a pet that has gone missing, the bargaining stage can be quite significant.
Even though you know in your heart that it is their time to go, you may still find yourself pleading to a higher power for help. Or keep wishing that you could do something to save them.
Guilt (“I should have done better sooner.”)
One of the more unique stages of grief for someone who has lost a pet is guilt.
Oftentimes as a pet-owner, you have to be the one who decides when it is time to say goodbye. When you have to choose euthanasia to end your pet’s suffering (like I did for Squiggles), it can leave you feeling ridden with guilt, even when you know it’s the best option.
Guilt can also show up in moments when you notice you are feeling happy again. Or forget about your pet for a few hours. Or get through the day without crying.
This doesn’t mean that you are over the loss, or don’t love your pet – it just means that you’re human, and doing the best you can to get through your grief.
Anger (“There’s nothing I can do to bring them back.”)
When anger bubbles up after loss, you might direct it towards anyone – yourself, your vet, your loved ones, even your pet for leaving you. Sometimes you might feel angry or irritable and you don’t know why.
You have a right to feel angry when you pet dies – it totally sucks! It’s the worst thing ever.
You might be angry about how it happened. Or that you have to try and go to sleep without them laying by your side. And angry about having to get through each day without them there to comfort you.
After Squiggles died, I became much more irritable in my day-to-day. Recognizing that this is a part of the stages of grief helped me have more compassion and understanding for myself and explain to others why I was getting so easily frustrated (“it’s not you – it’s Squiggles”).
Oftentimes, anger is just empowered sadness. Which is why it is such an important emotion to feel during your grieving process. It can help you express the depth of your pain. Because eventually that anger will lead to the most challenging stage of grief to process.
Depression (“I’m never going to be happy without them.”)
The depression stage of grief is when the reality of the loss starts to settle in. And the sadness you feel about your pet being gone starts to hit.
You may be very tearful, and desperately miss your pet. You may also start to think that you’re never going to feel better, and that you’re alone in your pain.
It’s common for symptoms of depression to show up during this phase, like having trouble sleeping or sleeping all day, changes in appetite, having low energy, inability to focus, or trouble finding pleasure in activities that used to interest you. You may feel more withdrawn and isolated than usual.
This stage of grief is typically the most painful, and happens to be the longest.
During this phase, it is okay to let yourself feel your emotions. Never think that you should be over the loss by a certain time. Or that you should not feel as sad as you do.
Let yourself cry. It’s okay to still miss your pet. It’s okay to give yourself as much time as you need.
You may not feel like being around people, but having support from someone you trust and can lean on during this stage will help.
And if you currently don’t have someone to turn to for emotional support, I recommend going to therapy to process your emotions.
Acceptance (“I will always miss them.”)
Acceptance doesn’t mean that your grief journey is over; it’s accepting the fact that your life is forever changed.
You may be resistant to move through this phase of grief after losing a pet. You might be afraid that your memories will start to fade – like you’ll forget the sound of their meow. Or the softness of their fur. Or the pitter-patter of their paws.
You might worry that if you accept the loss, it means you aren’t as sad anymore. And that being less sad somehow equates to the love fading. This simply isn’t true.
The acceptance stage of grief is about honoring your pet and having gratitude for all the love you shared.
At the same time, you’re getting used to the “new normal.” And trying your best to live your life the way they would want you to.
Remember, acceptance isn’t an end goal to reach, it’s a continual practice. Some days it may feel like you’re at peace.
But if months later you find yourself sobbing on the couch looking at photos of your pet, barely able to catch your breath (like me 🙋♀️, hi!), that’s okay too.
The Bonus Stage of Grief After Losing A Pet: Making Meaning
As you move through the stages of grief after losing a pet, you may also gain new perspectives on life. And eventually, turn your profound grief into an opportunity for transformation and deeper meaning.
Making meaning takes acceptance a bit further. It’s a phase where you are able to integrate the loss into your life in a way that inspires positive change, connection, and hope.
You can do this by channeling your grief into art, and putting something up in your home to remember your pet. Or planting a tree in your backyard to honor their memory. If you aren’t ready for another pet yet, you can try fostering animals as a way to give back.
I’m currently fostering cats because I love having the feline energy in my home. But I know I’m not ready for another cat to call my own yet, and that’s okay. It still feels good to know I’m helping other animals while they are looking for their forever homes.
If you happen to live in the NYC area, this is the organization I foster with: Brooklyn Animal Action. And if you’re in a different place, some good ole’ googling can help you find an organization to foster with.
When you are able to make meaning out of the loss of your pet, you are able to find a deeper sense of inner peace. And eventually allow the joyous moments to outweigh the sorrow.
How to Grieve a Pet: Other Things To Remember
Grief is Non-Linear
Many people think you move through the stages of grief in order. And that you can check off each stage once you’ve gone through it. This isn’t always true.
It is common to jump from one stage of grief to another without any rhyme or reason. You may go from feeling depressed, back to being in denial. Then thinking you’ve reached acceptance, right before you fall back into depression all over again.
You may also feel like you’re in more than one phase of grief at once. That too, is normal.
Grief is Highly Personal
Although these stages can help you pinpoint where you’re at, some days, they may not resonate. That’s okay. There is no right or wrong way to grieve.
Maybe you have a family member who seems like they’ve already moved on and you haven’t. Or maybe you want to talk about your pet and they are not ready. You are both valid. You can experience your grief in different ways.
Grief Is Unexpressed Love
Taking time to grieve the loss of a cherished pet is a natural process. And it is likely that you’ll miss your pet for the rest of your life. This is a difficult thing, but it is not a bad thing!
Missing your pet is a reminder of how much they meant to you. And the grief is so painful because it’s the unexpressed love you still have, and will always feel for them.
Over time, that pain and that grief does become more manageable. I find this box and ball analogy to be an incredibly helpful visualization to understand how.
And if you are grieving your pet-best-friend, I am so very sorry for your loss.
I know that it is impossibly hard.
I have no doubt in my mind that your pet was so grateful to be yours.
They knew, without a doubt, how much you loved them.
Take good care of yourself during this time.
If this article resonated with you, please like and share it below.
And if you’re feeling open to it, I invite you to share your pet’s name in the comments, and any happy memory or story you experienced together. <3
Grieving Pet Owners Also Ask:
What are the stages of grief after losing a pet?
There are seven main stages: denial/shock, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, acceptance, and oftentimes a bonus stage — making meaning. Guilt is especially common for pet parents who had to choose euthanasia. Grief isn’t linear, so you may experience them out of order, feel more than one at once, or skip a few.
How long does grief last after losing a pet?
There’s no set timeline, and a lot depends on how your pet died, your bond with your pet, and other types of support and meaning in your daily life. Early shock often lasts a few days but can return in waves for months. Research shows that acute grief for most pet parents eases up by the year mark, but it can be longer or shorter. I have found in my work with bereaved pet parents that for many individuals, the 6-month mark is unexpectedly difficult. It’s normal to miss your pet for the rest of your life; grief simply becomes more manageable over time. You should never feel you have to “be over it” by a certain point.
Why does losing a pet hurt so much, sometimes more than losing a person?
Because your pet is one of your greatest sources of comfort, woven into your daily routine, and they love you unconditionally, without the complications human relationships carry. Society often doesn’t validate this loss (“it was just a pet”), which can lead to disenfranchised grief and shame for being so deeply impacted by the loss. The depth of your bond was real and valid, and there is nothing wrong with missing them immensely after they die.
Is it normal to feel guilty after putting your pet down?
Yes. Having to decide when it’s time to end their suffering is one of the hardest parts of loving a pet, and guilt is one of the most common and difficult stages of pet grief to move through. Guilt can also surface when you catch yourself feeling happy again or getting through a day without crying. It doesn’t mean you did anything wrong; it means you’re human just trying to survive and you loved them.
What is the hardest stage of pet loss?
For most people, guilt is the hardest stage to move through. Because you’re often the one who has to make the impossible decision to end your pet’s suffering which leaves you distraught, wondering if you did enough, what they were thinking, if they knew how much you loved them, etc. You can start to release guilt by remembering your relationship with your pet over the course of their life – not just in their final days or moments of pain. If you’re not sure where to begin, try starting with my digital journal, Furever In My Heart: A Year of Remembering.
Is it normal to still grieve my pet months or even years later?
Completely. Acceptance isn’t a finish line, it’s an ongoing practice. Some days feel peaceful; other days, months later, you might find yourself sobbing over a photo, barely able to catch your breath. Both are normal. Missing them does not mean anything is wrong with you – it’s just a reflection of the love that was shared.
How do you cope with the loss of a pet?
Let yourself feel it rather than rushing past it, lean on people who understand, and be patient with yourself. Many people find comfort in remembering their pet and in making meaning from the loss. If you don’t know where to start, check out my pet loss resources, download my free self-care guide, or get in touch to start pet grief coaching.
How can I honor or remember my pet after they die?
There’s no single way, and many people find comfort in creating a place, like a memorial shelf or garden, to display photos, their ashes, favorite toys, etc. You can plant a tree, foster animals in their honor, or keep a written record of your favorite memories. For more ideas, check out this article on how to honor your pet on Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day.
I have no doubt in my mind that your pet was so grateful to be yours.
They knew, without a doubt, how much you loved them.
If you’re looking for tangible ways to cope with this loss, download my free guide, Coping With Pet Loss: A Self-Care Guide, and check out my pet loss resources.
And if you’re looking for more support, my community for bereaved pet parents, the Furever Forest will help you feel less alone and find healthy ways to process your grief and remember your pet, furever.
If this article resonated with you, please like and share it below.
And if you’re feeling open to it, I invite you to share your pet’s name in the comments below, and any happy memory or story you experienced together. <3
Related Categories: Pet Loss Support
202 Responses
I lost my beautiful, sweet, bossy and cranky Maltese Shih Tsu 4 days ago.
The day before we had to say our last goodnight to my girl, she was running around the yard and the house like a little bunny. She was 15.5 years old. I have had her since I was 21, I am about to be 37.
The pain I feel is more than emotion, it’s physical, my chest hurts and my heart aches.
I knew the day would come eventually, and I am so honoured that I got to cradle her in my arms as we said goodnight to her one last time, with her two favourite people touching and kissing her (my mum and my sister – they were her favourites, even though she was my baby)
It just happened so fast, and I don’t know what happened. In a blink of an eye, we had to make the most heart breaking decision.
I am full of guilt, all of the things I should have done more with her, the times I spent worrying about her rather than just cherishing the time we shared together. And now I have the overwhelming concern of “is she ok? Where is she? Is she confused? Is she sad that we didn’t try harder? Is she lost or is she in heaven with our other dogs?)
These questions sadly can’t be answered, and I feel this desperate need to know. I was her Mummy, my role was to protect her – but who is doing that now for my girl?
I hope she knows how loved she was, and I hope so badly that she is safe and somewhere that makes her happy, which is all I ever wanted for her.
Her name was Harby. And she will forever be my soulmate
I’m so very sorry to hear about the loss of your Harby. It’s so hard to say goodbye to a pet that has been with you for such a long time. She knows how loved she was – they ALWAYS know. I’m sending prayers for peace your way during this difficult time.
I lost on the 27.02. 2025 my soul matę my only real friend my little Black companion the rock in my life with only 11 years old to an very agressive cancer in the last 6 weeks of his life l know there was somthing wrong the vet said it will pass and was he eating going to the toilet and gave him pain killers he could no longer jump and his tummy was getting big and hard l then took him to a vet hospital and they told me he had a an extremly agressive cancer and could not be treated he gave him two injections and they would last 3 days after that we should have him put to sleep this l would not do l took him home he went for a little walk but only 20 m he trusted me l talked to him stroked him l hand fed him a little l kissed him telling him all will be ok 21.30 he passed away it broke me .
I’m so very sorry for your loss. Sending hugs during this painful time of grief. <3
We had to help our sweet pup Sandy cross over the rainbow bridge 2 days ago. She was 11years years old and we couldn’t find the right medicine combination to help her live a life free of pain. The vet helped us come to terms with that she gave us 11 good years and now we have to give her the gift of being painfree. Even though we knew the day was coming, we were not prepared for the pain we would endure. She was our first family dog and we watched her be a constant companion to our child while she was growing up. We are just heartbroken and never imagined losing our sweet girl would cause so much grief. We feel so lost without her around.
I am so sorry to hear about your beloved Sandy. I understand how lost and heartbroken you must feel. The first few days and weeks are completely surreal, and I”m sending hugs your way during this very difficult time.
I recently received news of my dog of 10 years (my first dog ever, mind you) has cancer and he has about a month. I am absolutely heartbroken and he’s not even gone yet, but I know it is approaching. I feel so stuck and it is hard to talk about it with people because I feel like they are judging me for being so upset about it. No one has actually said anything to make me feel that way, I think that’s just me feeling that way. It’s so painful and shocking because he appears so normal and is just like his normal self. Anyways, I am heartbroken and found this page in my research about grieving pet loss.
Oh goodness, going through this kind of anticipatory grief, knowing that a goodbye is coming but not knowing when, is truly so difficult. It’s like being in a state of limbo and comes with a lot of sadness and anxiety. I really feel for you during this time. Feeling heartbroken makes perfect sense. I hope you’re able to get some good quality time in with your dog, and I’m sending you prayers right now. <3
At thirteen and a half years old, we lost our beloved Didi Bear on Saturday. He was a Texas-born and Texas-sized yellow lab–the cutest we’ve ever seen. Didi loved to swim, catch the ball in the water, and play the outfielder in our baseball games. He was extremeley good natured and over-exubrant to meet anyone new; to Didi, every new acquaintance was a new friend. He also had a naughty and playful side: he would position himself in the doorway to our bedroom and bark to call us to bed at 10:30 p.m. When he felt he wasn’t getting enough attention, he would grab something from our dirty laundry (often a pair of underwear), run into the room with it dangling from his mouth and stare at us–daring us to do something!
As he aged, his arthritis gave him pain and decreased his mobility. About a year ago, the vet diagnosed him with laryngeal paralysis and he would huff and puff, even on a short walk. On Saturday morning, he was sniffing around in our front yard and admiring our new plantings, doing his business right on top of a newly planted Kangaroo Paw plant! When we returned from a short errand that afternoon, he asked to go in the back yard, and then collapsed there struggling to breath and unable to get up. We rushed him to the emergency vet and they thought they’d stabalized him–we let him stay a few hours to recover and returned that night expecting to take him home. It was then that we learned that he was not improving as expected and the doctor told us she’d run out of treatment options and recommened euthenasia. We were devastated that he couldn’t return home with us. He was heavily sedated and looked just like he always did in a deep sleep, with his droopy eyes relaxed. We hoped he would open his eyes to us and we’d see his happy look of recognition on his face. Instead, we had to make the unbearable decision to let him go, right there in that cold, clinical exam room at the emergency veterinary hospital. It was not the end that we had imagined or hoped for him.
The next day my husband awoke from a nightmare in which Didi was desperately searching for us in a dark veterinary office. It is so difficult to accept that he is not with us anymore; our home feels empty and lifeless without him here. It both warms and breaks our hearts to go through our thousands of photos of our fur baby and see how in almost every one of those, Didi is beaming with joy and happiness. You rarely see that kind of genuine happy smile in human. He brought that joy and light into our lives, our home, and our family. It hard to imagine how we’ll ever feel that again, when he is not with us. No matter where we are in our home or out and about a paw print, a smudged sliding glass door, a sudden memory or another trigger will make us feel like he’s there, somewhere sniffing around and waiting to greet us.
We had to put my sweet dog down on March 17th, 2025 and I am so lost and feel so meaningless without her.
Ferny was my pride and joy and my stress reliever. And I didn’t realize this until she was gone but I feel like she was my soul mate. We understood each other at the soul level. When I first met her she was a skinny little thing that wandered up to our house. I was 12 years old I think. She was so adorable and small and curious, and I formed an immediate strong connection with her without even knowing it. And as we were trying to find her a home I would cry that she had to go. And then one day my parents told us that we were keeping her. I think they saw how strong our connection was that they decided to adopt her even after we already had two dogs. I remember all my siblings and I ran outside cheering and screaming to hug Fern and play with her. We named her Fern from “Where the Red Fern Grows” because she was a mixed Red-Bone Coon Hound like in the movie and book that I fell in love with even before I met her. And then 10 times more so when Ferny was mine. And one year for my birthday my parents got me overalls and a real raccoon hat like Billy Coleman wears in the movie. I walked around in my new outfit, barefoot with Ferny by my side. We must have looked liked we walked right out of that book.
She was perfect. It is as if we were created together, for each other. She has always had a very strong connection with me to the point that everyone around me can see it. She used to love to run around the yard with me. When she was younger she was feisty and would try to bite me and my siblings because she is a crazy wild girl. But we all thought it was funny and would make videos with her pretending she was a wild animal we had encountered in the Australian bush. And looking back a home videos with her in it, you can see her follow me around where I go, even when I didn’t notice.
She had very large, soft ears that I would always kiss. She has always felt very warm and one time when it snowed I would hug her and she warmed me up like a heater. She also loved playing in the snow recently and I made a little video of clips of her enjoying it. She also loves to stand in the pool and blow bubbles in the water. My favorite thing about her is that she would turn her head when she was curious.
Ever since we got her I feel like I have been preparing myself for when she dies. She would always get out of our yard and I was worried she would get hit by a car. She also had and accident where she couldn’t move her back legs and I was terrified that we might have to put her down then. And there was another time when she fell into the pool and a neighbor heard her barking and told us. I ran outside to find her clinging on to the side of the pool. She had tried to climb out with her back legs to the point that she ground down the nails on her back feet and they were bleeding.
She has always been so protective of me and my family. Whenever she sees someone walking by our fence she always would bark at them until they left. She also developed a cyst on her paw and she had to have surgery to drain it. But while it was healing she had to stay inside. I loved having her in the house and seeing her all the time. She was so cute with her little socked paw and her cone just sitting by the hearth wagging her tail. She would wag her tail so hard she would leave bruises where it hit. She was such a happy, joyful girl. I also loved it when I came home and she would run up to me and I would get really excited, having forgotten that she was inside. She would also follow people into the kitchen, with her nails clicking on the floor as she looked up at them and watched them cook. And everyone was a bit sad when she had to go back outside again.
She would always get in the pool in the morning and threw out the day. She also loved baseballs and I still have one that she shredded after I used it in a photography project. I’m glad I have that. She also loved really big sticks, the bigger the better. She would find the largest and most cumbersome ones to impress everyone as she dragged it around. And on a recent trip I brought back a really nice stick for her. She was so incredibly smart and clever. Every time we tried to give her a pill to swallow she would also figure it out and eat the treat it was wrapped in and spit out the pill. Wrapping it in ham is the only way she will take pills. (Actually towards the end she figured that out too, and in her last days she refused to eat ham. Even if there were no pills in it at all, she’d still spit it out.)
A few months ago when I started to get into perfumes I realized that I wanted to have her scent. So I collected her fur and a cloth that I rubbed on her head and keep them in a jar and every time I open it I can smell her scent. I also have one of her baby teeth and some of her red fur.
She has two other dogs as siblings and they do everything together. And she would always hog the heater in the cold months. She sometimes sleeps with her tongue sticking out. I also remember how at night after my parents tucked us in bed I would open our door that led onto the deck and she would come into our room and I would play with her and she would jump up on my bed. She was so cute in there and I loved having her in there. And in the mornings I would open the curtains and she would be there, laying in the sun and looking at me in the window.
Paige, thank you so much for what you’ve written. And reading through the comments left me feeling the same way as so many others. I am especially glad to be able to identify why the death of my recent cat hurts more than other pets or people.
I adopted Muggs when he was about one year old. And for the next 17 years, he was my companion. I made the difficult decision to euthanize him on 3/19/25. Like so many others, I wrestle with different guilt feelings about whether I waited too long or whether or if I should have given more time with Muggs’ seeming will to live. I also wrestle with how much pain this stoic cat may have been in.
He used to be an overweight cat, but in the end he was literally wasting away. Methimazole was no longer working. I honestly cannot be sure how he was still able to jump up and down on the bed (sometimes the down wasn’t so pretty). But in the last two months, adding to the years of underlying issues (bad teeth, hyperthyroidism, beginning kidney disease, arthritis) he developed high blood pressure (possibly related to the unregulated thyroid), maybe stroked a couple times affecting his mobility in spurts, then started having seizures! Yet he was eating, drinking, using the litter box, keeping his fur neat, and wanting our attention. Not knowing for sure, I let him go outside before our last trip to the pet hospital. Other than being a bit wobbly, he looked so alive and happy. He once was an indoor/outdoor cat but had been strictly an indoor cat for the last five years. I’m so glad he got to experience the grass and sunshine one last time . . . and, oh, the loud purring 🙂
I don’t have social media to check out your support groups, but it’s tempting to make an account! Thank you for letting all of us post our story so that, in some way, our pet can live on for as long as you have your site up. Thank you again.
Muggs, Muggsy, Muggs-a-Rama, Mr. Muggs, My Baby Boy will be remembered for a lot of his younger quirks and habits, for always cuddling on me, and for being the muse/inspiration for storytelling and songs . . . and for being so incredibly handsome! At 18 years old, he indeed had a good run.
I’m so very sorry to hear about Muggs.I understand how hard it is to say goodbye, especially after having a pet for such a long time. It’s a very special kind of bond. And it’s so hard to be in the situation you were – not knowing what to do when they start fading. But you made the right choice. The hardest and saddest choice in these scenarios is the right one. I’m sending big hugs your way. Also, no need to join social media – the Furever Forest is its own separate platform! I’ll link it here. We’d love to have you in our community.
I am losing the battle of cancer with my beautiful boy Seis. He is 18 year old Maine Coon, Hemingway…I am lost. I have had him since he was a kitten, saved him from a fire in my home. I went back in the house while it was on fire to get my family, pets out… left only with the clothes on my back. He has been with me through all of my life’s ups and downs. I am beside myself, the cancer has not spread yet from his poor amputated tail, when he and his sister Lyla got hit by a drunk driver. He survived, now having cancer where his tail was amputated. I love him so….. so lost.
Truly
Chris Jackowski
Today, I lost my dog of 11 years, Pearl. She passed unexpectedly while I was at work. She laid next to my mom and let go. I am broken, I lost a part of myself. She was my rock through so many hurdles in life. Waking up tomorrow doesn’t feel possible. I feel grief for my best friend. I feel angry for not being there with her in her final moments, or not making what would be my last moment with her meaningful. I feel isolated, like I am carrying my grief alone. I feel depressed, nothing gives me joy, all I can think about is that she is gone. I’ve never felt pain like this before and I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I will try for her, because I know she loved me and would not want to see me broken. I love you Pearl, thank you for becoming part of who I am and for loving me. Thank you Paige, for teaching me that what I am feeling now is okay and that with time, I will be okay.
Thank you, Paige, for allowing us to have a safe space to share our thoughts and emotions.
This week I made the hard decision to euthanize my sweet boy, Spencer. I talked with my husband and told him I was finally ready, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to make the phone call to the vet for the appointment and I wouldn’t be able go alone. So hubby called yesterday to try and get an appointment to find out the only appointmemt was today or not until July 7th. So everything moved too fast…I thought I would have more time.
Spencer was born August 13, 2006, which means we got just shy of 19 years with him. He was a Jack Russell Terrier and was so much fun. I will miss his crazy, sweet personality. I can’t even explain how sweet and special he was in my life. I was his person and he was my buddy and happy to be that for so long.
It still feels like it wasn’t long enough, though. I am feeling so many things…shock, guilt, waves of sadness…I didn’t think I was in denial/bargaining, but since the appointment, I have been asking God all day to ease this sadness and hurt that I am feeling.
I have lost people and pets and I know that it will get easier to get through my days, but right now it doesn’t feel that way. Like I told my husband, I know it was the right thing to do, but my heart has not caught up to my logic yet.
To everyone else who reads this that is grieving the loss of their pet…I am so sorry! I totally understand how they meant so much to you and can never be replaced. I know, in my case at least, that it hurts so much because of all the love we had for each other for over 18 years and I wouldn’t trade the memories for anything. I used to sing You Are My Sunshine to him all the time because he would just listen and look at me while I sang to him…I haven’t been able to sing it yet today. We will see what tomorrow brings, I guess.
I’m so very sorry to hear about the loss of your sweet boy, Spencer.
I lost my dog, my best friend Stuart, on the 26th of June. He was 15 years old. I rescued him when he was 7 weeks old. But really, he rescued me. I got him when I retired, and he was by my side 24/7 for all this time. We did everything together. Thru good times and bad times he was there for me. I know it was his time but my heart aches. This is the only time he ever hurt me. I go thru my day trying to stay busy to distract my mind. It’s when I’m finished with my day that it hits me. I feel the hole on my heart and start to cry. I know know in time that I’ll learn live with the hole that was put in my heart and start to breath again. I know he’s in a better place and his suffering is over. Until we meet again my friend. I love you
I am so very sorry to hear about the loss of your best friend, Stuart.
My beautiful and fierce dog Cupcake died yesterday. She was 14 years old going on 15 in November. I had her when I was 6 years old all the way until I was 21. I can’t remember a life without her in it and I’m utterly devastated. I hoped she had more time with us and wish I could hold her one last time. Not sure how or when I will get past this pain but I hope she is in a better place now. I love her so much.
I am so very sorry to hear about the loss of your beloved dog Cupcake. Sending a big hug your way as you grieve.
I lost my Molly this past Monday, July 14. My heart is beyond broken. She was my foster, foster fail and then my pup for just shy of 8 years. Molly had the most beautiful brown eyes and was very loyal. Unfortunately, she was an anxiety ridden dog that was terrified of sudden movements, loud noises and startled very easy. I tried it all to calm her but any type of medication made her worse or sick. I would comfort her as best I could through a thunderstorm or fireworks which was not the easiest. Her body grew tired and she was pushing through but it became too much for all of us and I made the heart breaking decision to let her go just shy of 13 years of age. I miss my dinner buddy, my shadow but most of all my purpose. I miss my sweet girl so much.
I’m so very sorry to hear about your beloved molly. Sending hugs your way during this difficult time of grief. <3
I just came back from the animal hospital near my house where I brought our cat of 10+ years to put her to rest. She wasn’t necessarily a soulmate cat, she was a troubled little soul with previous owners that mistreated her and declawed her.
We brought her into our home and gave her the best life we could. A safe home, a home where she didn’t need to be fearful or scared. We did everything we could think of to try and help her be less anxious, scared and aggressive. She would snuggle us at night and most of the day would stay in my wife’s closet. Then came the biting, the anttacks and with two young kids in the home it became untenable to continue keeping her.
We tried re-homing, different medications, etc. And so here I am bawling my eyes out for the sadness I feel after deciding to put her to rest. We love you Kimchi, you will always be in our hearts.
Oh goodness, I am so very sorry to hear about your beloved Kimchi. Sending hugs your way during this time.
We had to say goodbye to our little love Izzy on June 19th, aged 15 and a half she was frail but I wasn’t ready.
My little mountain climber, mini explorer and constant companion is sorely missed.
After travelling at least 15 countries together, summitting countless hills, looking at multitude of vistas and cycling thousands of miles by ribbons of water and along old tracks it’s something we will have to do apart. I am hoping she is getting the chance to fly now, though to hold her again is my dream.
I have struggled with a video but here is a link to some of the photos.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/T29MweoMmxg4CWxT6
I am so very sorry to hear about your Izzy. What an adventurous life she lived! Those are some great pics. Thanks for sharing. Sending hugs your way.
Yesterday I lost my cat to a car accident. She has been there for my whole adult life: when I moved with my wife, my wedding, when we moved to the US, when my son was born. They were starting to bond too lately. And now she is no longer.
I had never feel this bad, not even when family members passed. She was really part of me, someone I could always count on, someone who will never judge and always support me. We have gone through so much together, and now she is gone.
I hope she knew how much I loved her. I hope she passed painlessly thinking on the great adventure she was going on or just had. I hope I gave her a good happy life. I cannot avoid thinking what if… but she is gone. Thank you all for this. I can barely see through my tears, but she deserves to be remembered.
Her name was Mosca, “fly” in Spanish, she was rescued back in Valencia, Spain. She was a tortoiseshell adventurer, with the cuttest coffee stain on her nose. She was 6yo, and she was more than just my best friend, she was part of me. Goodbye
Oh goodness, I am so very sorry to hear about your beloved Mosca. I wish I had words of comfort. Sending light and love your way during this difficult time.
I just lost my pup Prada (Poo) 14 years old on Friday. She was my everything, my sidekick & my shadow. I’m thankful for you providing your words of wisdom. Thank you, I really needed to read your words.
I’m so very sorry to hear about your beloved Prada. 🤍
I stumbled upon this article and really found it helpful, thank you!
I said goodbye to my 14 year old dachshund Monty last November. He was such a source of comfort for me and would sleep curled up next to me. I loved him the more than anything.
I’m so very sorry to hear about Monty. It’s so hard to be without them. Sending hugs.
Wow I had to look at your photos twice she looks just like my dog Mickey who I said goodbye to two days ago, same age too.
He was loyal and tireless, it would be nice to think of them running together ❤️
Aw, I’m so very sorry to hear about your beloved Mickey. 🤍
On Sept 2, I lost my beloved companion dog Cotton. He was a lovely a coton du tulear. He lived with me for 14 years. He started out as a service animal that I trained to help my autistic children. He saved my son’s life twice by alerting me he was not breathing. He could search and find my youngest when she hid in the yard. He calmed her by offering his hair for her to wrap her fingers in instead of pulling out hers. He put out meltdowns by licking faces. The list goes on… He even lead us out of a burning building and through the crowds of Disney! In his later years, he became my soul mate. Always by my side. My kids were at school, but he was always there. I went no where without him. He had gone in to have stitches removed from a tumor removal. He passed at the vet’s office very suddenly. I still can not believe he is gone and that I will be picking up an urn and not my sweet baby. The pain is unimaginable.
So very sorry to hear about your beloved Cotton. 🤍
I just recently had to say goodbye to both of my dogs, Thunder and Lightning. Thunder was my heart dog, my soul dog. Lightning was my funny, goofy guy. We lost Lightning first, at the age of 12, June 13, 2025. That was the most difficult day of my life and didn’t think it could get any worse, but it did. On July 11, 2025, we had to say goodbye to my boy Thunder at the age of 13. Friday’s are rough days for me, as both boys passed on Fridays. The silence in my house is deafening. My husband and I decided to get another dog because we’re both so lonely without one, even though we have each other. My struggle right now is to let my guard down so I can FULLY let our girl in to my heart. I feel that by doing this, I’m replacingy boys, even though I KNOW they can never be replaced. We have not yet brought her home, as she joins our family Oct 18th. I know that once she’s here, things will probably change, but the grief of my boys rears its head daily. I am looking forward to having her as part of our family and I believe that having her with us, will help me with my grief.
Oh goodness, this is so hard. I’m SO very sorry for your loss. I understand the struggle of letting your guard down, it takes time and it’s a process. But yes, it’s always nice to have the pet energy in the home. It helps. Sending hugs your way.
We lost our dog Squiggy in June after 16 wonderful years. Last year we lost our other dog Roosevelt after 13 years with him. They were both older but both of their passings were sudden and so hard to watch. We found a new rescue pup and are looking to foster and hopefully adopt her starting tomorrow, but I didn’t anticipate the grief this would bring back up and the guilt for being lonely and wanting to have another companion but still trying honoring them and their incredible marks on our lives. I was looking for online resources and found this. It was so amazing to see your cat’s name in your story as if it was the sign I needed to see from him. Thank you for your resource. From one pet lover to another – I appreciate you.
I am so very sorry for the loss of your beloved Squiggy. It is amazing, how our pets are connected in that way! I appreciate you writing and glad to hear the article was helpful. Sending a big hug your way during this difficult time of grief.
I lost my 16 year old guy Hank (Bichon) on Saturday, 13-Sep. He was his normal self all week as well as Saturday morning. He supervised us as we cleaned the house and he had his breakfast, lunch and 2 nice walks. We took him on a ride to a friend’s house and we noticed he was lethargic and very tired while we were there. We brought him home and when we got out of the car to let him pee, he stumbled. We looked at his gums and they were very pale so we called the emergency vet to let them know we were on our way. They took him back to triage and the vet came out and said he had a very large mass behind his liver that was bleeding into his abdomen and she said surgery would be risky at his age but also because she isn’t sure she could get the mass and it’s most likely malignant. We made the decision to have him put down- it was horrible. 5 hours prior he was living and enjoying life and then his body surrendered. His soul was HUGE. They brought him to us and we spent time with him and told him how much we loved him. His eyes told us that he was ready. He usually pants and shakes at the vet but he was so calm. We asked the vet if they gave him a sedative and she said no- he was just so weak and tired that his body didn’t have the energy to display the emotions and fear. I keep looking at videos from our in-home video system from that morning and he was so happy and himself. I am heartbroken and am struggling so much. He was our world. Our lives revolved around him. The days and nights are so lonely and the hurt is horrible. I am thankful that he didn’t pass alone and that we were there with him. But god this hurts.
So very sorry to hear about your loss
I lost my sweet boy Tyson, he was 16 and would have been 17 in three months. Oh how I miss him. It’s all overwhelming but when I come home from work on my lunch break or in the evening after work and he’s not there to greet me it just breaks my heart. I take one day at a time but mostly one second at a time because at any moment I will have a memory of him that goes from laughter to tears. My comfort are the memories and videos of him and hope I may see him again someday.
So sorry to hear about the loss of your sweet Tyson. <3
My Jack Russell’s name was Zıpzıp
He died in my arms while he was 16 years 11 months 19 days old.. he was 15 days away from his 17th birthday. Until his last breath, he wanted to survive, he didnt let go. His last month was a tough one because he was now paralyzed and couldnt move much. His motor functions started rapily collapsing.. until a day before his death i fed him water and food. I kissed him every day.. He was loved until his last breath, which was a silent and peaceful one. I am 41 years old and i was only 24 when i first met my Zıpzıp. What a journey we had together! I loved him so much and are so thankful but missing him and getting used to his absence has been hell. Its been 6 days since he is gone.. rest in peace my sweetboy
so very sorry to hear about your loss. <3 May Zipzip rest peacefully.