The loss of a dog is a profoundly traumatic event, and it is entirely acceptable to respond with deep sorrow. While we expect children to grieve when a dog dies, adults often deny themselves permission to mourn this significant loss. Somewhere along the way, we were taught to accept such events as part of life, which somehow translated into suppressing true and unfettered grief when a dog passes away.
Dogs hold a unique place in our world. They are the only creatures who greet us with unconditional love and joy, regardless of our shortcomings or appearance. The simple act of our presence is enough for them, and we cherish them deeply for it. When we lose that bond, friendship, and unwavering loyalty, we experience a grief deeper than we often admit. In many cases, adults bury their feelings after shedding a few tears.
Truthfully, the manner of the loss doesn’t diminish its impact. Whether your best friend endured a long illness, was struck by a car, or succumbed to a tragic moment of behavioral issues and bit someone, the pain is profound. The circumstances may evoke additional emotions, but the overarching pain of loss should not be ignored.
Embracing Grief and Honoring Your Pet
Often, adults feel compelled to hide their emotions for the sake of their children. While it’s unhealthy for children to witness a parent completely unravel in grief, research shows that when parents cry in front of their children, it validates the children’s feelings and demonstrates that Mom and Dad share in the loss. When dealing with the loss of a dog, give yourself permission to grieve. Allow your heart to acknowledge that sadness is normal and acceptable. Don’t let societal expectations of “adult behavior” deprive you of the opportunity to honor your pet. Dogs are often considered family members, and we would grieve the loss of any family member.
Whether you have children or not, holding a service or funeral for the dog is a meaningful gesture. Just as you would honor any family member, a funeral or service—even an intimate gathering of one—can help provide closure. Closure doesn’t mark the end of grieving but signifies acceptance of the finality of death, allowing you to begin the rest of the grieving process, which may be lengthy for some.
There is no timetable for grief. While some may urge you to “get over it” because “he was just a dog,” you are not obligated to heed such advice. Your pain and grief are personal, and your dog was yours. You are entitled to grieve in a way that feels natural to you. Some may feel they’ve entered a healing phase, only to be struck by unexpected tears a year later, triggered by a fleeting memory. This is normal and can happen at the oddest moments. For others, bringing home a new puppy may spark a fresh wave of grief, and the only remedy is to endure it.
People will offer opinions, suggesting you get another puppy to “move on” or sharing stories of how they overcame their own loss quickly. Remember that their advice reflects what worked (or what they believe worked) for them, not necessarily what’s right for you. If you find a piece of advice that resonates, that’s wonderful. Otherwise, remind yourself that others’ experiences don’t define yours.
It’s perfectly acceptable to remember your dog. Honoring their memory by planting a tree in the backyard or displaying their photographs is a loving tribute. However, attempting to replace the dog is futile. Dogs are as unique as individuals, and no new pet can fill the void left by the one you lost. Bringing home a look-alike, giving it the same name, and pretending it’s a substitute isn’t fair to the new dog, the one you lost, or yourself. The loss of a dog is a pain you must feel fully; there are no shortcuts to the grieving process.
