Unspoken grief: Dealing with the loss of a beloved pet

Molly Cantwell with her beloved dog Gus

It was an unusually sunny day in July when my best friend of 10 and a half years closed his eyes for the last time. Mere days before he had been running around the garden, happy as the day we brought him home at only eight weeks old.

Gus was loved. He had whatever food he wanted from our plates, received endless cuddles and scratches all day, and chatted with us on the couch — popping his paw on your lap when he wasn’t done listening to his favourite words. 

“Kisses on the ear” became more of a recall for him than his own name. Gus loved the beach. We’d bring him as often as possible, particularly to the sand dunes at Fanore Beach. It was the furthest beach from us, but worth it to see his tail wagging as we pulled into the parking lot.

Molly Cantwell's beloved dog Gus

When I moved out of home, Gus became a regular and favourite visitor. Every housemate I’ve had loved him incredibly. He loved walking along the river in Limerick and particularly adored a nip into our local pubs for more cuddles and treats.

The day he died, we walked into the vet’s office to a very teary receptionist — even in his least favourite place, he was adored. His loss was very unexpected. 

A sudden ruptured spleen led to a discovery of cancer, and suddenly, we had to choose whether to prolong his suffering, or let him go to sleep. The choice was obvious.

It didn’t rain for days after he passed. In fact, it didn’t rain until the day we picked up his ashes. It was then that the guilt crept in.

We didn’t play ball with him enough.

I should’ve come home more often.

We should have noticed something was wrong sooner.

It’s remarkable how used to a little creature depending on you that you can get. Not hearing the “tip-taps” around the house, the barking when walking down the stairs, being covered in hairs whenever you get up from the couch.

“It’s just a dog.”

He was an integral part of our single mother/only child family.

“You should just get another one.” There’s no replacing your family.

“At least he got to an old age.”

He could’ve been so much older.

It was completely and utterly mind-blowing to have gone to the vet with our gorgeous boy one day, and to be returning home with a small mahogany box days later. I’ve never felt grief like it, and yet, it’s a grief we don’t often hear about.

Until it happens to you. And then, people talk. Friends spoke about how losing their dogs was harder than losing their parents. “How long does it take to feel better?” we asked. “I’m still waiting,” they replied.

Kristine Kilty with her pets, including Blue who passed away last year

Kristine Kilty, a creative fashion director, who has worked with the likes of Lewis Hamilton, Boy George, and Liam Gallagher, lost her beloved Chihuahua, Blue, to cancer last year.

“Losing Blue has been the heaviest grief I have ever felt. Almost seven months have passed, and I still cry every day. The intensity of grief for him surpasses the depths of mourning for a family member or close friend. I think it’s because he was with me every moment of the day for twelve years. Suddenly, there’s a huge void.”

“I took him everywhere — celebrity photoshoots, meetings with creative collaborators, cafes, restaurants, department stores, even abroad on holidays.”

“Blue was a 2.8kg ray of light,” she continues. “His zest for life truly inspired me to embrace living in the present moment and to always dwell in gratitude.”

“Our pets shower us with an abundance of unconditional love and companionship and when they are no longer with us, their absence feels vast,” Kilty comments. 

“No one can replace the void left by a pet; the bond is one-of-a-kind. We need to speak openly about pet loss and grief. And be mindful that shutting people down with ‘it’s just a dog’ isn’t helpful. It doesn’t allow people to express the deep pain they are feeling inside.”

Tara Nix, a psychotherapist based in Limerick who has dealt with the loss of a dog herself, says she believes talking about your departed pet can help.

“Going to your favourite place, to the swimming spots, holding the tennis ball, whatever that was for you and your dog. Honouring the life you had together. Gratitude that you both co-existed at the same time and remembering all the love, joy and importantly the hilarious moments with your pet.”

Nix continues: “It truly is a unique type of grief. This is true in my own experience and in my work as a therapist. A narrative I have heard so many times is: ‘I’ve cried more for this dog than any human in my life’.”

This grief is expressed in many ways, according to Nix. “The loss of a pet leaves owners with intense loneliness. Feelings of being hollow or in disarray. 

Molly Cantwell's dog Gus in his happy place

I relate it to my own experience. When I was sad or upset, Ru was my support. She was my regulator; she helped ground me and lick my salty tears.

Crying the deepest cry with no relief because she was my comforter and she wasn’t here anymore was truly devastating.”

Nix isn’t sure whether rushing into trying to “replace” your pet is the wisest choice either. 

“In my experience I was so deeply grieving when my new pups were sprung on me. I wanted Maeve to be Ru and when she wasn’t it only made me miss Ru more. This in turn was massively unfair to Maeve, and initially hindered our bonding and attachment to one another.

“Once I acknowledged it, I was able to enjoy the pups and change came. Grief is so important, and yes, it does get easier with time, but it never really disappears. Nor would I want it to. Ru will always be with me.”

Nix also adds that a general lack of understanding of this grief can give way to judgement or ridicule.

“Sometimes people don’t get it and that’s not their fault, but your emotions are completely valid,” she says.

It’s now over a year since we lost Gus, and the grief still completely envelopes my mom and I. We have taken in another rescue pup who is remarkable and loveable in his own ways, but much like any other of the family, Gus can never be replaced. 

Still, finding room in our hearts to love another four-legged creature has helped us — but we will miss Gus forever.

How to help someone grieving the loss of a pet 

Avoid platitudes and making comparisons to other forms of grief or personal loss

Don’t comment on the timescale - grief can last for a variable length of time, and is not any less worthy of support if the bereavement was in the past

Don't suggest getting another pet. Pets are all unique, and part of the family, and cannot be replaced by another

Point them to support services such as The Blue Cross which run a free Pet Bereavement Support Service via phone, webchat or email. The Animal Samaritans also offer a bereavement support service.

• Advice from vethelpdirect.com