When my cat Magnum died, the world as I knew it
paled. In the fifteen years we’d spent together, he was a better friend
to me than any human being, a loyal and loving companion and my only
constant. For years I had recoiled from even fleeting thoughts of
saying goodbye.

Magnum rode the bumps on life’s road with me without fail, offering his
unconditional devotion to ease any pain and heartache that came my way.
I moved relentlessly from city to city, but when I’d open his carrier
and watch him stroll out, I’d know instantly that I was home. When I
was sad, he licked the tears off my face and rolled around on his back
purring persistently until I had no choice but to cheer up and laugh at
his antics. Even at the end, as I sobbed into his fur while he slipped
away, he unselfishly summoned up strength to purr weakly for my
benefit. I bawled for nine days straight when Magnum was no longer
there to stop the flood of tears.

Looking through my eyes, there will never be a greater cat than Magnum.
I’m not alone in my sentiments. There are millions who steadfastly
believe the same of their cat, dog, rabbit or other companion animal.
The death of an animal can evoke grief that is startling in its power,
bringing a deep sense of loss that is often misunderstood and
trivialized. A pet’s passing sparks a process that can differ in many
ways from the loss of a human being, but that doesn’t make it any
easier to bear, says Nancy Lee, a graduate student in mental health
counseling at Bellingham’s Western Washington University. Lee talks
about Bubba, her Louisiana Catahoula Leopard Hound who died of cancer
four years ago.

"It’s not that I don’t miss my mother or my sister, but the grief was
different," says Lee. "I didn’t see them every day like my dog. With an
animal, it’s a constant process – it’s their dish, their toys, their
fur, their greeting. He was there hopping up and down every time I came
home. After he died, coming home seemed empty."

She recalls falling apart the day she drove out to bury Bubba on her
property. When it was time to take him out of the truck, she wailed
"like I was being killed." Bubba had been her rock, getting her through
hard times that included a divorce.

"I still expected him to be there when I got home," she said.

Dr. Karen Rounds, a veterinarian at Whatcom Humane Society in northern Washington State, says the
unwavering and faithful nature of an animal’s steady companionship
means it can take a long time for the reality of their death to sink in.

"You wonder for a moment – where’s the dog? You forget that they’re
dead," says Rounds, who recently lost Libby, her Labrador Shepherd
cross. "The dog is always there, dependent on you, invariably happy to
see you. They are unconditional in their love for you."

Unfortunately for the bereaved, the loss of a cherished pet doesn’t
tend to inspire the same supportive gestures as the death of a human
loved one. Customary and meaningful traditions that make grievers feel
less isolated aren’t observed, such as funerals and eulogies, cards and
gifts of comfort food. Supportive well-wishers can be rare. Some
comments that must be endured are downright insensitive, such as "It
was just a cat/dog", or "You can get another one."

Despite risking these callous reactions, sadness shouldn’t be bottled
in. Seek out the sympathetic ear of a fellow animal lover who respects
and validates your feelings about your pet. Talking about your loss and
reminiscing about the good times will provide comfort during the
healing process. Allow yourself to cry. Take a day off work if you need
it. If family and friends don’t show proper compassion, pet loss
hotlines or online support forums are plentiful and can fill the void.

Just knowing other people appreciated your pet’s personality is a
luxury that those who have lost a pet don’t have, says Secrette Miller,
a Seattle-area animal rescuer. Last year, Miller was awash in grief
when three of her own cats and two of her fosters died from a variety
of medical ailments.

"When a person dies, you can talk to people about that person, but
other people may not have known your pets," Miller says. "With a human
being, you get support. Going through the loss of an animal is a slow
process, and you’re going through it by yourself."

Psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler Ross, author of the classic book On Death
and Dying that was first published in 1969, outlined five stages of
grief that are now firmly entrenched in contemporary thought, and they
can be applied to any catastrophic loss including the death of a pet.
The stages are mentioned everywhere from medical journals to magazines,
music, movies and television. They are denial, anger, bargaining,
depression and acceptance. People don’t necessarily go through the
steps in order, or experience all five, but Dr. Kubler Ross contends
that everyone experiences at least two. Cycling through the stages,
even many times, is normal and healthy.

When facing the death of a companion animal, another stage might be
present – guilt. Pets depend on their owners completely for sustenance
and survival, and their guardians must frequently make the
gut-wrenching decision to end an animal’s suffering with euthanasia.
Such an emotionally painful but compassionate choice isn’t an option
for human loved ones. While this final act of love is the only humane
course of action for an animal who is suffering, the guilt lingers.
Nearly everyone interviewed for this story expressed guilt regarding
the euthanasia of their animal, declaring either that they believe
their animal died too soon, or too late. In Miller’s case, she
expressed both: she worried her cat Mama was euthanized too soon, and
that Buddy’s passing wasn’t quick enough.

"I wanted to give him a chance to rally," Miller says.

In my cat’s case, the diagnosis was swift and final. Just one day after
he first showed symptoms of pain, tests showed Magnum’s organs were
ravaged by an aggressive cancer. He was fading fast. The excruciating
decision to end his suffering was the only humane option. Still I
questioned myself. Was the cancer truly as advanced as tests had shown?
Had everything reasonable been done to save him? In an effort to get
closure and avoid the guilt I knew would hit later, I made an unusual
request. When Magnum’s body was cold, I asked my veterinarian to
surgically open his chest for me. The cancer was everywhere, spongy
tissue that originated in his pancreas and attacked multiple vital
organs. I found peace.

"Everybody is so hard on themselves," says Dr. Kimberly Barron, owner
of Northshore Veterinary Hospital in Bellingham. "If the animal was
still eating, they believe they did it too soon. If the animal is in
terrible shape, they think they waited too long. Nine out of ten people
do it at the perfect time."

The timing of your animal’s euthanasia should be discussed with your
veterinarian, who can weigh in with medical information on your pet’s
prognosis and physical condition. But in the end, the unselfish
decision to perform this final act of love for your pet will rest in
your hands. Consider factors that describe your animal’s daily quality
of life. Is he mobile and breathing without difficulty? Is he eating?
Does your pet appear happy and enjoy food, toys and affection from his
family? If the animal has stopped responding to medical treatment and
is in constant pain or discomfort, you should not prolong his suffering
to ease your own.

Barron sums it up succinctly. "If there’s nothing that can be done and
the animal is not completely comfortable, and if the owners are ready,
it’s time."

Discuss the process with your veterinarian. Some will make house calls
so your pet can spend his final moments in the comfort of his home. If
you feel up to it, being there to comfort your pet can help you achieve
closure.

Guardians also report feeling guilt when an animal dies accidentally or
suddenly. Karen Tillman came home three years ago to find her
eight-year-old Rottweiler Gorf dead in his fenced enclosure. He had
died of torsion, otherwise known as bloat, a painful twisting of the
stomach that quickly becomes fatal if untreated.

"I felt guilty, like I had failed him because I wasn’t there," says
Tillman, lead customer service staff member for the Whatcom Humane
Society.

The grief over the loss of an animal isn’t limited to his human family.
Cases of animals pining for deceased companions are well-documented,
although Barron notes that she has also seen the opposite – an animal
who blossoms when a competing pet in the household disappears.

WHS outreach director Laura Clark has witnessed an animal grieving over
a lost companion firsthand. When her dog Jesse died, Lucas changed. The
surviving dog gained ten pounds, his happy-go-lucky confidence
disappeared, and he grew fearful.

"He wouldn’t get off his bed," Clark says. "We had to force him to go
outside. Week after week, he would lie on the porch and mope, or he
would just stand in the yard and look out. Jesse was like his mom. When
she died, she took my soul with her, and my dog’s soul died, too."

Clark adds that while Lucas is "not the same dog," his spirit has
picked up considerably since she found him a playmate, a two-year-old
rescued Red Australian Shepherd named Ginger.

Like Lucas, many of us will never be quite the same after losing our
treasured friends. Finding personal ways to celebrate the memories can
soothe feelings of sorrow. WHS executive director Penny Cistaro
remembers that when her dog Andrew died in 1991, she grew driven to
track down all photographs of him that had ever been taken, even going
as far as to contact an old friend she hadn’t spoken to in years.
Creating the resulting photo albums of Andrew was therapeutic.

"Grief is personal," Cistaro says. "Everybody deals with it individually. You have to do whatever gives you comfort."

There are many positive and rewarding ways to memorialize a departed
companion animal. While the pain of loss may make it tempting to clear
out your pet’s items at once, consider saving a few items for your
memory box like a collar or a lock of fur. Photo tributes can be framed
or organized into collages or collections. You can have a portrait
painted of your pet. Tap into your creativity and write a poem, a story
or letters, or keep a journal. Craft a statue in your pet’s likeness,
or shop for items that remind you of your pet. Obtain a special urn or
box for your pet’s ashes. Your garden can be a peaceful place to
remember your pet. Place a stone, statue or personalized stepping stone
there.

Perhaps the best way to pay tribute to your pet is to help animals that
are less fortunate than he was. Contribute to an animal welfare
organization or shelter in your animal’s name, and when you have
healed, consider adopting a rescued animal. While another pet will
never replace the love you lost, they will find a new place in your
heart.

"They bring so much joy into our life," Miller says. "As hard as it is to lose them, it’s worth it."

Websites

Knowing you aren’t alone with your loss can provide great comfort.
There are thousands of sites regarding pet grief that can be found with
a simple Google search. Here are just a few of the better ones:

www.petloss.com/phones.htm
Listing of pet grief counseling hotlines.

www.pet-loss.net
Informative site with practical information on the grieving process

www.aplb.org
The Association for Pet Loss and Bereavement offers free grief counseling and chat rooms.

www.petseverlasting.com
Join the online support forum or post a memorial.

www.in-memory-of-pets.com
Light a virtual online candle for your animal, send a sympathy card,
submit or read poems and tributes, and get online pet loss support.

Books

Coping with Sorrow on the Loss of Your Pet, by Moira Anderson

Grieving the Death of a Pet, by Betty Carmack

When Only the Love Remains: The Pain of Pet Loss, poetry by Emily Margaret Stuparyk

Pet Loss and Human Emotion: A Guide to Recovery, by Cheri Barton Ross and Jane Baron-Sorenson