Guest post by Sarah Chauncey

This is the second post in a three-part series. In the first post, l looked at how veterinarians are handling euthanasia during COVID-19.

Losing a beloved companion is a difficult experience at any time, but several factors come together to make it particularly devastating during COVID-19. From veterinarians handling euthanasias differently than usual to physical distancing requirements that keep us from hugging each other, circumstances are coming together that intensify the isolation many guardians feel after a loss even under normal circumstances. In addition, there is so much grief and loss in the world right now, and we’re all feeling some of that—loss of routine and familiarity, economic uncertainty, concern about loved ones, and of course, for many people, the loss of human loved ones to this awful disease. This collective grief weighs heavily on all of us and can make grieving the loss of a pet during COVID-19 even more challenging.

I’m not a grief counselor. What I can offer comes from my own experience of loss and other experiences of dealing with very intense challenges.  If you’re grieving a loss right now, make sure you do whatever you can do to soothe yourself, within the restrictions all of us face right now. Below are some suggestions, but this certainly isn’t a definitive list.

Take time to say goodbye if possible

Because veterinarians are handling euthanasia differently during this time, it’s even more important to create a ritual to say goodbye before the euthanasia appointment. Unless your cat is in a medical crisis, try to create space in the last 24 hours to honor the bond you’ve had, to thank your cat, to reflect, to grieve and to say goodbye. In my experience, it can make all the difference between being able to accept the loss and being stuck in grief for a much longer time.

If you aren’t able to say goodbye in advance, be gentle with yourself. Try writing a letter to your cat, putting onto paper everything you wish you had said or done, or reminiscing about the good times. Getting your feelings out and onto the page can be helpful, especially in the absence of being able to receive in-person social support. If a letter doesn’t feel right to you, veterinarian Karen Fine has a helpful guide to writing your pet’s obituary. Whatever comes up for you, let it out.

Become as present as possible (over and over again)

See if you can focus on the sensations around you. Try the 5-4-3-2-1 practice: Name five things you can see, four things you can touch or feel physically, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. Bring yourself fully into your present environment, focusing on what is here right nowStaying fiercely present is one of the most helpful practices I’ve found for easing emotional distress.

You don’t have to know how you’re going to get through the rest of your life without your beloved companion. You don’t even have to know how you’re going to get through the pandemic, or this week, or today. Those are just concepts; the future doesn’t exist yet.

Show yourself compassion

I’ve written a lot about the importance of self-compassion. Notice the intensity of love you feel for your pet—because you still do, even now—and see whether you can show yourself some of that love. To the extent you’re able, treat yourself to a special meal, or a long walk in nature, or a bubble bath with a candle lit. Do whatever soothes you.

My favorite practice for extremely challenging times is to come back to the breath, over and over again. The breath is always there, wherever you are, in solitude or not. Focus all your attention on the breath. Place a hand on your abdomen or your heart and breathe into it. Acknowledge that you’re feeling pain.

I find it helpful to imagine my heart connected with all the other people around the world who are experiencing the same challenge. When I wash my hands, for example, I picture myself connected to all the other people around the world who are washing their hands to keep themselves and their loved ones safe and healthy. You are now part of a unique cohort of people grieving the loss of a pet. Imagining yourself as part of this group, linked to them through a shared pain of loss, and offer yourself some comfort.

Move your body

Exercise has multiple benefits, including helping us move from rumination in our minds to becoming present in our bodies. In my experience, exercise is also helpful in allowing grief to move through the body. Like all emotions, grief is energy that wants to be acknowledged and released. If you’re in an area where you can safely go outside and walk or run, do that. If your thoughts become overwhelming, try the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise from the previous section while you’re walking. This will help bring you back into the moment.

Other ways to get moving can be yoga, Pilates, jumping jacks, walking/running in place, dancing, or even just shaking your body like a rag doll. All of these have multiple benefits, though personally, I find cardio-type exercises more helpful for releasing anger, and meditative exercises more helpful for soothing sadness. Listen to your body. It knows what you need.

If you can’t bring yourself to exercise, don’t beat yourself up. Do whatever you need to do to get through this time.

Seek out nature, if possible

The benefits of spending time in nature are myriad and well-documented. When it comes to grief, one particular benefit stands out: Nature can help us to ruminate less. After the shock of loss, we often subject ourselves to second-guessing and worrying about whether we made the right decision. If you can, go outside where you can see plants and trees. We humans and the animals we love are expressions of nature, not separate from it.

If you are unable to get outside, focus as deeply as you can on a single plant in your home. Allow it to captivate your imagination and give you a brief respite from your thoughts.

If you can’t do any of these things, that’s okay. Allow whatever you’re feeling. Beating yourself up only makes you feel worse; it doesn’t accomplish anything useful.

Please know that you are not alone, even though your grief is unique to your cat. Approximately 15,000 domestic cats die of old age-related conditions every day in the United States alone (and roughly an equal number of companion dogs). That’s a huge amount of grief and loss, in the midst of a pandemic defined by grief and loss.

My heart breaks for all the people who are now grieving in solitude, without being able to even receive a hug. In a simpler time, it was possible to go see friends, receive hugs and consolation, distract ourselves with work. But now, the task is to face our grief physically alone, yet emotionally connected.

In Part 3, I’ll discuss ways you can reach out for support while self-isolating.

If you’ve lost a cat since the beginning of March 2020, please share what types of self-care helped you in the comments.


Sarah Chauncey is the author of P.S. I Love You More Than Tuna, an upcoming gift book for adults grieving their cat. She runs @morethantuna on Instagram and Facebook, “a celebration of nine lives,” and she started #tunatributes, a support community for people grieving their cat. She lives on Vancouver Island.

55 Comments on How to Cope If Your Pet Dies During the Pandemic

  1. Thank you for taking the time to read what we are going through right now. Talking about it is helping us cope with such a tragedy. I miss him so much it hurts. I pray that I get to come out of quarantine tomorrow and help my baby girl and my fluffy baby Buddy.

  2. On January 28th I tested positive for covid. I immediately quarantined and my 17 yr old daughter had to take care of me from a distance. We have two amazingly beautiful Maine coon tabby mixes. They were brothers and we adopted them 7 years ago. They were anywhere from 8-10 yrs old and appeared healthy, vibrant, and full of love and life. Mickey was such a lover. I never knew a cat that was so affectionate and that loved to cuddle as much as Mickey. Buddy is also affectionate but on his terms. He’s more of an independent fluffy fellow that doesn’t like to be picked up. He prefers that he is loved on and petted on his terms. He loves his belly rubs. 🙂
    I am still in quarantine and dealing with the sudden death of Mickey. Mickey and Buddy loved to go in and out of the garage. Like normal, my daughter let them in the garage. They would come in and out. Sometimes one would prefer to stay while the other comes back inside the house. We didn’t think anything of it when Mickey chose to stay in the garage on Sunday. Sadly on the evening of February 7, 2021 I heard my daughters screams that Mickey has died. We were devastated and although he likely had been passed for a least an hour, we rushed him to the Vet Hospital to beg for them to try to help him. I was in complete utter shock and denial..It was too late. Our Mickey Mcloven was gone. It hurts so bad. I just keep replaying in my mind what we could have done to keep him with us. We are not sure how he passed but the vet said that it was likely heart failure or heart disease. He didn’t look like he was in pain. He looked like he was just asleep in his usual curled position.
    Since I’m still isolating, my daughter and I haven’t been able to hold each other and I haven’t been able to love on Buddy and mourn with them. Im so devastated because all I could think about was when isolation was over and I could sit on my couch and have Mickey purr and head butt me and snuggle and have Buddy jump up and lay down for some love. He loved attention. Now he’s gone and I went 1 week having to avoid him because I was sick and didn’t want to pass it to my cats or my daughter. They would often paw and my door and meow begging to come and lay with me and it was so hard resisting opening my door. Now its just Buddy crying to come into my bedroom. My daughter and I haven’t slept or eaten in 2 days. This is the hardest grief we’ve experienced together. To try to stay close, my daughter and I stayed on the phone all day and night, grieving and trying to make sense of it all. hoping I test negative for Covid so I can hold my daughter and talk to Buddy and let him come in my bedroom like normal. We chose to have Mickey cremated and are going to build a memorial alter for him in our living room. I don’t know how we are going to handle picking up his ashes. This hurts so much

    • I am so so sorry, Teresa. I’m crying as I’m writing this. It’s always devastating to lose a cat, but to lose one under the circumstances you’re dealing with is just unimaginable to me. My heart hurts for you.

  3. This will be a little long, but it’s a tribute to Amelia, who passed away yesterday, my third loss since the pandemic and I am so heartbroken….

    They come to you, a little bundle of fur sometimes just big enough to fit in your hand. Their eyes are still closed, their ears are flattened on their head. Their tails no bigger than a promise of what is to come.
    You take them in and hold them gently against your face, breathing in that unique smell that is kitten, the soft fur that feels lighter than a cloud, so tiny and helpless and you pledge to do whatever it takes to get them through this beginning.
    Then you panic, for just a moment. Can you really do this, take this little thing and feed it, keep it warm, help it to grow up to its full potential? You call your vet and beg for advice, you talk to anyone and everyone willing to tell you how they did it and got through it. You rush to the pet shop and stock up on supplies – bottles, formula, weewee pads, and crates to house your small bit of felinity, adding a warming pad to keep them warm and sigh, though willingly at the feeding schedule you have now committed to, even more rigorous than when your child was first born.
    You read up on what to expect when expecting a baby kitten, what milestones to look for. When will their eyes open and what color will they be? When will those ears unfold, the teeth come in (hint – much sooner than you think), the color settle into its adult pattern, and the tail fan out into a gorgeous imitation of a stripper’s boa. You worry that you won’t be able to teach them how to litter train and eat big cat food.
    But you get through it all while all the while they steal your heart with that baby breath, little mews, hesitant first steps and unbound curiosity as they learn to explore their world. They’ll climb on counters, sniff whatever catches their interest and like human children try to eat it until you insist they not. They’ll learn the sounds and intonations of your voice and give you that “Who, me?” look when they know they’ve done a no-no, but you’ll quickly forgive them as they cuddle up to purr next to you.
    Like any proud parent, your stories are about what wonderful, interesting thing they did while you were at work, or the little naughties they pulled when your back was turned. You pull out the pictures to boast to your friends until their eyes roll back into their heads, for these are your children, even though they look slightly different from others. You spend your bonuses on their toys and food and put off going on vacation for there’s nobody who can take care of your purrbaby as well as you, and sometimes even feel guilty when you have to leave them behind. Those days of fun in the sun are always filled with waiting to hear from the cat sitter just how good your tiny mischief maker has been, if they’ve even come out from under the bed because there’s a stranger in the house.
    You make sure they have the best – food, toys, doctors, home, all of it, for they give unconditionally back for the little things you provide, demanding little more than the chance to be by your side when you sleep, watch tv, feel ill, sad, or depressed. They’re there with a cuddle, rub, and purr to end all purrs, knowing they want to help the only way they can. And you can’t help but to reach over and give a stroke to that soft fur, scratch that head, hold that warm body close for a short time and feel better after.
    And the time will come, all too soon, when your time together, seemingly much too short, ends. You’re not ready to let go, you can’t believe it’s happening, but it does not matter how hard you pray. You stay with them so that your voice is the last they hear, your touch the last they feel, your tears the last that fall on their fur. Your heart will ache for a long time, you’ll look over the gazillion pictures you took and cry a little less each day. Then someday, you’ll hold another tiny bundle of joy in your hand and pledge to do everything in your power to give them all the best in the world, asking that they only give you their love in return.
    If all the cats were mine, it’s what I would do and have done.
    This is their story, their history, their mythology and their journey.
    RIP sweet Mia, 7/19/20

    • Karen, you have a big loving soul, and it is evident from the way you’ve written about your sweet Mia. We grieve so much for the unconditional love we were given by our animal companions. I take a lot of comfort in your final paragraph, which beautifully addresses how we will, in time, open our hearts and homes again to a new friend. There is nothing more I would love to do again than to be able to give the best in the world to another dear cat. Wishing you kindness and gentleness during this hard time.

      • Thank you. It has been difficult, but with the rest of my purrbaby crew, every day eases the sorrow a little more.

    • My most sweet, easy-going, beautiful beloved companion of 20 years, Eddie, is gone, euthanized at my request as a tragic turn of events occurred after a pain medication was administered. It helps somewhat to read of others who have grieved or are grieving and the feelings they express which are also mine. This is spectacularly hard, in addition, because of the pandemic’s restrictions on a “normal” life. Spectacularly hard in all ways.

  4. So very sorry for your loss. It brings tears to my eyes to read these posts, as I am also part of this group. What especially saddens me is that the vet wouldn’t let you into their clinic to be with your precious baby at this difficult and possibly scary time for her and terribly sad time for you. When we had to have our Daemon put to sleep, we got to stay with him to the end. I truly hate this pandemic.

  5. I lost my beautiful, 17 year old girl on 19th June.
    She was my soulmate; shadow; daemon; familiar. It was so sudden. She was fine that morning. At the last checkup, I’d been told she was as healthy as a much younger cat.
    Vets were always telling me they’d never known such a chilled out cat. She purred her way through vet visits, loved a ride in the car, asked to get in the shower every morning. We used to joke that she didn’t know she was a cat. She absolutely ruled our household!
    I was not expecting to find her collapsed on the floor. I called the out of hours vet and was asked to bring her in right away. It was gone midnight and we have young kids, so I had to take her on my own. Because of the pandemic, the vet met me in the car park. She took one look at Purdey and told me it was time. She didn’t even want me to bring her home so the kids could say goodbye – she thought it would be unfair to leave it any longer.
    We didn’t even know she was ill! The vet said she could feel masses in her abdomen and thought it was probably cancer. She didn’t think it was worthwhile, or fair, to wait for tests the next day, because of the state she was in. Apparently cats are able to hide illness until the last moment, which is why she had seemed absolutely fine – her happy, purring self – just that morning.
    I had a little time in the car with her, just holding her and telling her I loved her, then had to hand her over, in the travel cage she hated (she much preferred to sit on the passenger seat, front paws up on the dash, so she could see through the window), in the car park.
    I drove home on my own and that was it, until my husband collected her urn a few days later. Everything was so impersonal and at arms length, as we were still in lockdown.
    Almost a month later, I am still crying like it was yesterday. I’ve lost pets before, but not like her, and not like this. She was more than a pet to me.
    In 17 years she has been with me through 2 serious relationships (and a handful of not-so-serious ones!), 6 houses, two rabbits, two kids, a dog, two more rabbits ….. I tried to work out how she could be at our wedding, and am still ridiculed for the fact that even in labour (high on gas and air) apparently I wanted Purdey to be there (in the hospital )
    I feel a bit more ‘normal’ after reading all of your stories – it’s somehow comforting to know that there are others that know this grief. Does that sound awful? Anyway, I add my story, in case it helps someone else, and in the hope that somehow, Purdey feels it, and knows how fiercely she was loved, and how completely she is missed.

    • Oh Anwyn, my heart goes out to you. To loose a cat so suddenly, with current circumstances making it even worse, is just devastating. I hope in time, memories of your time with Purdey will replace the awful pain of missing her.

    • Oh, I know! I at least had a compassionate vet who let me inside to hold my baby who seemed perfectly fine that day, too. The only reason I knew Baby was sick was that he would eat. In little over two hours, I had him at the vet’s office after the diagnosis and he was gone. She was so amazing with me, blubbering and sobbing. This was the end of April, and I am still crying reading your story and thinking about how I miss my Sandy, Baby Doll.
      I know you loved fiercely. I did, too. We will carry on, but a bit of our hearts will be permanently missing.

      • Suzanne I am so sorry to read this. It’s so very hard when it comes from nowhere. Sending you lots of love

  6. I lost Kamino on May 5 , 2020. He was 12 and his back legs stopped working . They suspected a small inoperable tumour in his spine . He was gone in two weeks . He was with me constantly and greeted everyone and basically ran the house lol and i cry daily but I have good friends and the best advice for me was to spend more time with my other two cats . I never had the bond with either of them but I now am trying to spend more time with them. I hope one day I will smile when I remember his fiesty loving personality but for now I am grieving and no I never expected such intense grief. Thank you for making this groups .. it is very much needed .

    • I am kinda sad no wrote a reply .
      I am still hurting so much but am still glad for this group

      • I am so sorry for your loss. It is truly a hard thing to go through. Been there, done that, twice in April this year.

        • Thanks Karen .. I can not imagine loosing two during this time. Kamino was my soul mate . I had named him after the Camino Trail in Spain which is known as pilgrimage of self reflection , and peace while walking . I had plans for 2021 to walk in but that will be put on hold . Kamino lived up to his name sake and was a full of personality and love . I was fortunate to ask for a second opinion and see a wonderful vet to took me and Kamino in for the consult and final moments . My other vet had been leaving me sitting In the car for over an hour each time with no compassion and little guidance. It was a horrible time but in the end the vet at the cat hospital was an angel . She could save him but she explained the symptoms and cancer to me so I understood. I wish I had had more time to hold him and miss him terribly. Thanks for letting me share a bit more of my experience in this extremely stressful and scary time.

      • I’m sorry Kathy, sometimes I miss some of the emails.
        I understand the grief, it’s so hard. I hope that you can get closer to your other two. I adopted two rescues 6 weeks after losing my guy, we’ve had them six weeks now. Some days I’m so busy with them that I feel guilty at the end of the day for not remembering to mourn Beefy…I think that is really called healing. I’m hoping that you are on the way there. Maybe adopting an actual baby will help.

    • I am so sorry you have gone through this alone, too. I know how you feel. I have Sandy’s brother still but I never bonded with him as I did with my Baby Doll. I want you to know that your grief and mine are still pretty fresh. I can barely look at photos of the two of them together, but I think and hope that we will eventually be able to remember without almost crying at our loss.

      My vet wrote a lovely note saying she knew how much I loved my kitty and that I should focus on the good times. I hope that can. I still talk to him as if he were here! I hope that you will recover at least some soon. It is hard…hard as losing as human. And, some people do not understand this grief. But, I will think of you, too, as we both move forward. Bless you for being Kamino’s lover. Because that love will endure forever.

    • I’m so sorry Kathy. My daughter and I been crying all night because we suddenly lost our 8 yr old Maine coon tabby named Mickey 2 nights ago. The bond we have with our cats is immeasurable. I pray that you find healing and feel that Kamino is now your angel and spirit guide watching over you. Sending you and Kamino love and prayers

  7. I lost my Little Kitty, also known as Callie yesterday. I’m so incredibly sad. She was almost 20 years old, and had been doing well until a month ago. She got a stomach problem that just took her down. When I got home from work on wednesday, she was breathing hard and refusing to eat even her favorites. I knew it was time but my heart hurt.

    Caregiving takes so much time and effort you don’t realize how integral to your day it is until its gone. I don’t have my sweet little kitty yowling for breakfast or patiently waiting for me to move my book so she can settle on my lap. She was a quiet little soul, a gentle presence in the house. We rescued her as a tiny kitten so long ago!

    My vet came to the house for the euthanasia, she was sedated then came time for the final injection. She couldn’t get a vein and it took a long time to complete. She told me Callie was asleep and didn’t feel any of that and I am terrified she could. I keep telling myself she was asleep. I held her when she was sedated, and she slowly went limp and her breathing was almost stopped. My vet said that she just didn’t have much life left at that time.

    Losing her during the pandemic has been so hard. The stress of isolation and not being with friends and family has been hard. It will get better I know, but right now it is very raw and painful……

    • I’m so sorry. I understand. I had my sweet guy for 14 years of his 16 year life and I was lost. I cried at the drop of a hat. I still cry easily two months later. My husband decided that I needed a new cat, I refused, but here I am with two (almost) 3 month old kittens and they are healing my heart. It was instant…I caught myself telling them that I loved them the other day and that shocked myself. I hope that you can heal but never forget your sweet girl. hugs.

    • Dear Amy, you may no longer be checking this website, which I just found. But your words exactly reflect my own present experience at losing my 20-year-old BF, Eddie. Over the years he shared so many people, events, celebrations, griefs, adventures, traditions along with me, and it’s unthinkable that he’s gone. Plus there were months of anticipatory grief as he grew so old. I’m so sorry for your loss, all the losses expressed here on this site, and my own loss.

  8. I had to say goodbye to my precious girl, Mila on April 30th. She would have been 13 in July. She was the most special and amazing, sweet, unique, loyal and precious companion to me and I am missing her so deeply still, the grief is so painful and my tears have not stopped. 40 days prior, her cancer symptoms appeared as tumors in 2 paws. She had lung cancer and it had spread. I had noticed she had lost weight over the last year, and I tried to remedy that on my own. She had never been to the vet as a healthy, vibrant, athletic indoor cat since she was a kitten. I immediately went into research mode, as I found these holistic liquid herbs to give her to help her. I was advised by a holistic vet I had an appt with online to give them to her. She was also on prescribed meds (pain and steroids) by the other vet who diagnosed her cancer, but I was told it would be palliative care. The lung-digit cancer she was diagnosed with was very aggressive. I refused to accept this and believe this. I thought we would beat this, I couldn’t imagine my life without her. She was too young to die and she was too important to me and my 9 year old daughter.
    The herbs seemed to help her energy, but the tumor growth continued and within the last week of April, she stopped eating and her breathing started to become strained. I was heartbroken and didn’t want to bring her into the vet and stress her out further, but the vet advised me that I needed to make that decision soon. I was able to have a travelling vet come to our home instead. She told us that Mila had little air in her lungs. She was giving herself a bath that day and looking out of our window watching the birds, with so much will to live, I knew she wanted to live. But she hadn’t eaten in almost 4 days, I was syringe feeding her bone broth and she wasn’t getting off of my bed anymore. The decision to let her to go sleep was surreal, the anticipatory grief felt as if my heart was being ripped out of my chest. (I just realized now as I am writing this, I have been crying for 5 weeks straight.) I knew I had to say goodbye to her, but the permanence of the goodbye wasn’t something I could comprehend. It still isn’t. My daughter and I each wrote a letter to Mila and we read them to her as she was lying on my bed, before the vet arrived that day. We broke down in tears as we told her just how special she was. I told her how sorry I am and how much she was loved and will be so deeply missed. I asked her to visit me in my dreams, and told her she would be with God now and she will no longer be in pain. When the vet arrived, I can still remember every moment of what happened afterwards. I have visions of seeing her eyes enlarge as she left her body, as I stroked her gray tiger “M” on her forehead and told her I loved her and it was okay. I have never felt so much pain or grieved so deeply. Since then, I have been in a sort of trance…I am finally coming out of it a little more day by day. I have done a lot of reading on processing grief, the stages of grief and pet loss. And I also did a lot of research on her condition and felt incredible guilt for not doing things differently. I know it isn’t helpful for my grief but I needed answers and I needed to know what else I should have done. I found helpful supplements I should have given her instead, and I wish I had taken her to a holistic vet instead too. I think she would still be here if I had taken sooner action when I noticed her weight loss over time. I know the guilt is another layer of grief that makes it that much painful, but its something I am dealing with. I’m not quite sure how to work through all of my remorse, because shes no longer here and I feel she could be if I had made different choices. I’m also ,turning to my faith in God at this time, knowing one day all things will be made whole again and praying I will see her again. She was so much a part of my day, from first thing in the morning to the last moment before I went to sleep. She even took showers with me. She was definitely my soul kitty.
    If anyone else is going through this intense pain with your loss, I am so sorry and my heart really goes out to you. Sending you all love and praying for your comfort, too.

    • Oh I’m so sorry for the loss of your precious Mila…I understand. I lost my Beefyboy on April 23 and still crying.
      Hugs to you

    • Yes I am right there with you … lost in my grief and not sure how to cope .
      I posted above as I lost my Kamino on May 5,2020 he was only 12 . A piece of heart is gone and I cry all the time . I feel like I have not mentally processed that he is gone and each time I think he is coming around the corner I cry . I am so sorry for loss , thank you for sharing and it does help knowing others have intense grief as well . Please take care and I also hope one day to be with Kamino again ❤️

  9. A beautifully moving post. It’s thoughtfulness and compassionate message really resonated with me.

    Here to share my own tale of saying goodbye to my sweet Chonk cat companion, Henry, 10+ years old. We bonded very deeply over 8 years and 5 houses together.

    He passed away from lymphoma on the very early morning hours of Monday, April 06.

    The euthanasia was performed by an emergency vet. My family drove us there. Only I was allowed on the room. I was able to spend as much time as I wanted with Henry. The nurse administered the procedure with Henry in my arms. We were both masked and it was over so quick. She allowed me this dignity and I’m forever thankful.

    Since his passing, I have made a shrine from his ashes, mementos, treats, and photos. I’ve written memories, nicknames, and thoughts into a journal like others have. It helps.

    This death ripped a hole in my heart. Feeling fragile, numb, low… but at the same time so thankful and lucky we got to share time on this planet together.

    Deepest hugs and love to you all going through grievous times during this pandemic.

      • I also add my condolences. It’s so hard to read these posts as I’m dealing with my own grief. April 2 was the day my Belle died, then 27 days later on the 29 I had to have my Daemon put to sleep. Two in one month and sometimes it feels surreal that they’re gone, but I find solace in the rest of my furry crew and know that someday I, too, will be with them all.

        • Thank you Ingrid and Karen. Your words are a comfort to see today.

          A grief trigger came up this past week, as it was Henry’s adoption anniversary. In the time since his passing, I’ve leaned into being fragile, meditating on anxiety and loss, and found hotlines and caring friends to open up to when it gets heavy. It is hard, exhausting work but I am sticking to it.

    • I’m so very sorry . I lost my baby on April 23rd. It is one of the hardest things that I have ever gone through, next to losing my parents. But as I mentioned to a friend, I spent more time over 14 years with my sweet Beefyboy than anyone.
      Hang in there, I think about my guy so often that I really don’t share that with anyone.

  10. On March 26, I lost my sweet, 17-yr old cat, Lucy Honeychurch, after a wonderful 7 months of hospice. I was so glad and relieved that I was allowed to be present with her the whole time. Honestly, it’s only gotten harder as the weeks go on. I adopted two cats from the town shelter a few weeks after saying goodbye (I knew I was going to adopt, and I normally would have waited longer, but I think it was just as well to do it sooner rather than later). They are wonderful, we’re bonding well, and it has been a hugely healing experience for my daughter. For me, though, it doesn’t help at all. The cats I adopted are wonderful, and they’re my sweet boys, but it doesn’t make me miss my cat any less. I think I was about as prepared for her death as is possible, and I handled that fine…but I think I treated it as an event rather than a permanent state. I’m REALLY struggling with going forward knowing that the rest of my life will be without her.

    • The one thing that has helped is that I started a journal that I write in every night. I am very afraid that healing just means forgetting, so I’m jotting down everything I can about her habits and all of the everyday, ordinary memories that may fade. Bringing in new cats has helped me notice and remember the little things that are unique to her, because they have their own, different habits and personalities.

      • I’m so sorry, Amanda. I think starting a journal is a wonderful idea. We always think we’ll never forget, but over time, some of the ordinary things our cats did that we loved so much will fade, and having a record of that is such a treasure.

  11. Heartbreaking to think about but so important to talk about, and for people to know that they are not alone in their grief.

  12. Our Oscar is on the downside of his battle with CKD. The vet office has assured me that when the time comes, I will be allowed to be with him. In the meantime, we are spending more time together as his choice.

  13. I lost my wonderful Two-y in February just before all of this started but it meant that just as I was getting into my grieving process it was cut off to think about all the changes. I had a medical emergency that had me limited for a month. Since then I’ve been limited by this virus. l miss my Two-y so much and feel as if I’ve missed him for a long time. He was only in my house for one year but I’d cared for him for 12 years as a feral. Once he came inside he was the sweetest boy.

    The euthanasia procedure was different than usual because I couldn’t go to my regular veterinarian. I felt so bad because it seemed that he had been sick while I was in the hospital and I didn’t know it so I feel bad about that too. Anyway, now I need to restart the process and deal with it. At least I know he isn’t suffering now.

  14. We lost our sweet purrbaby just hours ago, heart wrenching. But we spent last night touching him, talking to him, telling him we loved him and it was okay for him to cross the Rainbow Bridge and that all the ones who’d gone before would be there to greet him and show him around his new home. It will be hard for quite a while to deal with this, but we will make it through. Our memories will last forever.

    • I’m so sorry. I understand. I lost mine 5 days ago, I had him 14 years and he was my first pet. So, I’m not experienced with the loss. I hope that you are doing okay and remembering your sweet baby.

  15. My heart goes out to all of you that have had to make the hard call during this time to end your fur-baby’s suffering. I Can’t Imagine having to euthanize or loose a kitty (or dog, or any other animal companion, or human friend or family member) right now. So I am with you even though I don’t know you, because these articles, this site, connects us.

    I have been burning a candle and sending prayers and soothing energy every evening to everyone out there world-wide. I can’t do much else right now, but I can do that. Maybe if we all did something like that every evening (or when you can), it will help in some way, somehow. Who knows?

    I also take that time to grieve for the loss of my animal children and human family and friends over the years, if the tears happen. My life has normally been so busy that I haven’t made the time to really grieve, to come to peace with their transitions. Sometimes, it is very challenging to sit still inside of one’s own skin. So I get it, I really do understand.

    Be kind to yourself, be kind to others, and try to refrain from malice to those who are not taking this virus seriously. I do NOT agree with their behaviors. I just don’t want to waste my precious energy on hate or anger (but I will spend some extra energy avoiding such folks!).

    Love be with you. I count this community among my blessings.

  16. I can’t imagine losing a pet right now. I have always been present to say my final goodbyes and hold my cats when they were given their final rest. It was hard enough when we had an emergency vet visit this past Sunday when I had to take Pele in. She couldn’t put pressure on one of her front feet. Her toenail had grown into the toe bean and sore and bloody. She is my skittish scardy cat, scared of people and leaving the house, and I couldn’t even be there to hold her while they checked her out and took care of her problem. While I waited in my car, another car pulled up beside me and when the clinic girl came out to get their pet, I found it to be wrapped in a towel completely. I guess it passed during the night. I thought to myself how sad they must be to lose one in these difficult times, but then I also thought at least they didn’t have to have it euthanized and not be by their side to hold them as they passed. These are crazy/scary times and my heart goes out to all who have lost one of their pets among all the other grief they are feeling.

  17. A few weeks ago I had to deal with putting one of my cats of 19 years to sleep. I am also going through chemo at this time so the risk was at an all time high, but I so wanted to be with her as she took her journey over the rainbow bridge. It was a weekend and I was unable to go to my regular vet, but the emergency vet was wonderful. Where now they are not allowing owners in with pets for appts., they allowed me to be with her, taking special precautions to protect me and theirselves. Nobody was allowed in with me, so the person who drove me remained outside. Even with the extra safety measures taken, they relayed their compassion throughout this difficult time giving me the time needed to be with my sweet girl. Everyone wore mask, the area was constantly cleaned, sanitizers were everywhere. They said they understood the importance of owners wanting to be with their pets to say goodbye, and this was the exception they made in allowing one owner in with their pet, where otherwise they would come out to the car and bring the pet in for the appointment. When they got her ashes back, I was called and when I drove to the facility, they bought her ashes out to me to protect them and myself.

    • Sugar causes problems everywhere in the body. It’s a breeding ground for CANCER! I know a lady who had stage 4 breast cancer. She stayed off sugar for 1 yr! The cancer was gone! That was 8 yrs ago!!!!

    • Hello Alice. My sympathies to you for your kitties. You shall be the subject of my meditation tonight. I am aware of several people right now going through chemo, which is stressful enough without a pandemic to contend with as well, along with this kind of grief.

      I hope you come through your treatments with flying colors. And I hope the right animal companion comes to you soon.

    • I’m so sorry for your loss, Alyce. I’m heartened to hear that the emergency vet allowed you to be there and took extra precautions for you. Stay as safe as you can, and take care of yourself.

  18. Sarah, this is just beautiful. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and experiences. I, too, have had so many requests from families looking for a light during this horrible time of darkness. I just wanted to share this video that I did for families looking for more ways to have a virtual experience in saying good-bye to a precious love. This one is about having a virtual memorial ceremony: This one is about what to do prior to the death: Thanks for what you’re doing! Take care, and be safe.

  19. This was a beautiful topic — and from the heart. Im crying just reading it and sending love to all the brokenhearted who are grieving. God bless and ty to this writer for her loving compassion and for recognizing the importance of our connections to our animal family and best friends. We must honor their passing and absence with all, if not more importance to many of us, in as significant an event as when people or others die within a family. We are all connected and can always show more kindness and compassion to someone who is grieving.

    • Thank you. I lost my sweet Beefyboy last Thursday night. He was 15, had been healthy until bladder stones the week before.
      He had just come home on Tuesday. I am so thankful that we had two days with him, even though he wasn’t himself.
      When we rushed him in, and waited in the parking lot, they called to say that he was really trying hard to die. So was my heart. And it still is.
      He used to have his own facebook page, lol, so he has a lot of friends.
      People who didn’t like cats and met him loved him.
      I miss him horribly. Barely an hour goes by without tears. Especially at bedtime.
      Not being able to see my friends and family at this time is so hard. They text me daily asking how I am. I say fine but I’m so incredibly sad.
      I don’t know if it would be easier if I could actually see friends, or go to dinner, or anything.
      All I can say is, Beefy was my first “my” pet, we were partners. I certainly hope that I have been caring when others in my past lost pets, because now I understand.

      Thanks for your sweet comment.

      • My sympathies to you, Tin. Beefy was lucky to have you. I have lost fur-kids as well. Going to dinner and seeing friends only helped distract me, but sometimes distractions are helpful. Sometimes it helps ease the toll of the grieving process, but doesn’t eliminate grief itself.

        I have several groups of friends. We text to each other daily and share jokes and encourage each other. It’s not as good as seeing everyone in person, but it’s better than nothing.

        I hope you can find a way to connect with those that are close to you. If you all have computers / laptops – maybe Google Hangouts? It’s free.

        And grieve, whenever you need to. It’s important and healthy.

      • I’m so sorry for your loss of Beefy. The loss is harder than most of us anticipate. Be gentle with yourself.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.