Recently, a number of my friends have lost their beloved cats and dogs.
Some of these pets lived 18 years.
That’s a lifetime.
When we think about raising children, they often live at home for about 18 years before heading off to college or building lives of their own. Many of us spend just as long with a beloved pet. Somewhere along the way, they become family.
They greet us when we come home like we are rock stars.
They curl up beside us when we’re sick.
They somehow know when we’ve had a terrible day.
They’re our constant companions, our therapists (whose credentials are admittedly questionable), and some of our best friends.
They love us with a kind of uncomplicated devotion that’s surprisingly rare.
One of the hardest parts is that pet grief is sometimes minimized by people who have never experienced it. But anyone who has loved an animal knows better.
As I was writing a condolence message to a friend, something unexpected happened. A video from a psychologist appeared in my social media feed. (I know, I know. It’s a little unsettling that our phones seem to know what we’re thinking before we do. But this time, the algorithm got it right.)
She said something that stopped me in my tracks:
“When we lose a pet, we aren’t just grieving the loss of that pet. We’re grieving the loss of a piece of ourselves. We’re grieving who WE were WITH them.”
This really stuck with me.
Because grief isn’t only about loss itself.
It’s also about the version of ourselves that existed in that relationship.
When that relationship ends, it can feel like that version of ourselves has disappeared, too.
Less than two years ago, when I lost my dog of 12 years, the grief hit like a tidal wave.
I cried in the grocery store.
I cried every time I saw another dog hanging its head out of a car window.
I cried when I saw his toys lying around the house.
Whether it’s the death of someone we love, the end of a relationship, or saying goodbye to a beloved fur baby, our hearts often don’t make those distinctions.
So if you’re grieving a pet today, or carrying some other kind of grief quietly for years, I want you to remember something.
The part of you that loved them so fiercely…
You didn’t lose that.
It may feel buried beneath the sadness right now.
But it’s still there.
Because love doesn’t disappear when the one we loved is gone.
It just changes shape.
With love and compassion,
-Jackie
