Grieving the Loss of a Pet

If you couldn’t already tell from the title, this is a hard topic to write about—and an even harder one to live through. It’s something I’ve been navigating myself after losing two of my beloved furbabies. We all wish our pets could stay with us forever—or at least as long as we’re here—but unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. Just like with people, we never truly know how much time we have together. One day they’re healthy and happy, and the next, everything can change.

That’s exactly what happened to me back in May. I had a therapy cat named Ollie who was truly my lifeline. He helped me through night terrors, panic attacks, bipolar disorder, and some of the darkest moments of my life—including two suicide attempts, multiple hospital stays, and years of therapy and medication. For over ten years, he was my constant companion.

Ollie had asthma, so occasional vet visits were part of our normal routine. On that day, I went in expecting another simple treatment—but I left shattered. The scans showed that he had end-stage pancreatic cancer and was in a great deal of pain. I called my fiancé to bring Richard, Ollie’s bonded brother of ten years, so they could say goodbye. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

Just two months later, I lost my chinchilla, Teeki, who I’d had for ten years as well. Losing two of my babies within a few months—while planning my wedding for October—felt unbearable. Honestly, the only things keeping me together have been my remaining furbabies, my fiancé, and the hope and joy of our upcoming wedding.

As I’ve tried to guide myself through this grief, I’ve noticed a few steps that have helped me cope and begin to heal. Grieving a pet is a deeply personal journey, and while I still feel like I’m cycling between stages one, two, and three, I’m learning to be patient with myself and to let my body and heart take the time they need.

4 Steps of Pet Grief That Have Helped Me

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1. Acknowledge the Grief

Don’t push away your emotions or try to distract yourself from them. You’ve lost a true friend—and that deserves to be felt, no matter how painful it is.

In the days after Ollie passed, I felt like I was in a fog. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and my eyes burned from crying so much. The pain was overwhelming. Knowing my history with mental health, my fiancé encouraged me to reach out to my psychologist—and that decision made all the difference.

Ask for help when you need it. Because my medication wasn’t working properly from lack of sleep, I ended up in a manic episode shortly after his passing. My psychologist added two anxiety medications to help calm my body so I could rest and stabilize again. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s a form of strength and self-care during grief.

2. Create a Space for Remembrance

Honoring your pet can be incredibly healing. As an artist, I process a lot of emotion through painting. I often paint animal portraits, but painting Ollie was entirely different. I cried through so many sessions, but by the time I finished, I felt like I’d released a part of my pain that words couldn’t touch.

I also found comfort in something simple but meaningful—a large weighted orange stuffed animal. Ollie used to sleep beside me every night, and without him, sleeping felt impossible. The weighted plush and a heavy blanket helped me adjust to his absence, and I still sleep with both today. It’s not childish—it’s healing.

3. Deciding Whether to Get Another Pet

This part of grief is deeply personal. For me, I wasn’t ready for another cat after Ollie passed—but Richard was. He had never spent a day without his brother in ten years, and after the loss, he refused to eat or drink and cried constantly, searching for him. Watching his grief broke my heart all over again.

After trying everything—medications, treatments, calming collars—I reached out to my animal network and decided to adopt another adult cat. Within a week, Richard began improving. Even though I wasn’t emotionally ready, he was—and we were able to give another kitty a loving home. Months later, I’ve grown to love her dearly, and while she doesn’t replace Ollie, she’s helped heal a small part of that ache.

4. Give Yourself Time and Patience

Grief comes in waves—and sometimes when you least expect it. For me, it’s been the little things: a certain smell, finding a soft piece of Teeki’s fur, or simply remembering a familiar sound. Each time, the tears come all over again.

At first, I felt embarrassed or “too sensitive” for crying over them months later. But I’ve learned that these emotions are normal. The love I had for them was real and deep—they were family. And when you lose family, it’s okay to mourn for as long as your heart needs.