Willow & Sage Counseling

Gabriel was my first ever dog who found his way into my life one Easter weekend. I wasn’t looking for a dog. I had two cats already. But he didn’t care. The moment we made eye contact I instantly knew- we belonged together.

I had 10 great years with Gabriel and never once thought about what it would be like when he died. I just kind of assumed that he would be a constant in my life. It’s funny how the mind can trick you into thinking that now will last forever. But of course it doesn’t. And ten years ago, Gabriel became very ill and I had to make that dreaded decision to have him euthanized. 

You’d think that was the worst part, but it wasn’t. The swirl of emotions I felt that day and in the days, weeks, even years after were a surprise to me. As a mental health therapist, I knew it all made sense. Yet as a human being, it was agonizing. 

Among the challenges I faced, I think the hardest part was feeling like I had to grieve the loss alone. I had a handful of friends who understood and allowed me to speak about Gabriel without passing judgment. Still, I felt like I had to temper what I said and how often I talked about him because I didn’t want them to get tired of me, or worse, tell me that I should get over it. It’s the irony of grief: you feel the need to tell your story over and over, but you worry that you’ll become a worn out record or an outdated meme. 

This is what is called disenfranchised grief, a type of grief that isn’t widely accepted by society’s understanding of death and loss. Society says it’s OK to grieve the death of a parent, sibling, or spouse. It says it’s OK to grieve the ending of a relationship. It even says it’s OK to grieve the loss of an opportunity or job. But grieving the death of a pet isn’t embraced the same way, leaving the bereaved pet owner feeling alone, and sometimes ashamed of their feelings. 

Grieving is unique to everyone, but grieving the loss of a pet is particularly unique because you are your pet’s voice. You make an unspoken promise that you’ll care for them, making the best decisions on their behalf. It’s a huge responsibility that takes its toll when you’re faced with those difficult decisions on how best to care for your beloved pet towards the end of their lives. You are tasked with the horrible decision as to when your pet’s quality of life has diminished to the point of being harmful to them, and weighing whether you’re making the decision to euthanize too early or too late. And what makes it even more difficult is that your pet can’t tell you in words, and, so, you’re often left guessing.  

Finding someone, like a trained mental health professional, to help you navigate through the guilt, regret, anger, sadness, and every other emotion you might feel, is incredibly important. Grief convinces you that you’re alone, that no one can understand how you feel. But grief is a liar. You’re not alone and there are people who have been where you are now. A mental health professional who can help you understand that your grief, and all the emotions that come with it, is normal. They can help you understand that grief isn’t something that you just “get over”, but rather something that you learn to accept and carry with you without it being a heavy burden. And they can help you understand that “moving on” isn’t an act of leaving your pet behind; that it’s “moving with” your pet in your heart forever.