My cat dying taught me so much about grief
I’m a grief professional so I should know all about grief and loss. Yet my 18 year old cat, SuzyQ, dying last year taught me so much.
Pet loss can be just as devastating as losing a loved person
Recently Greg James, BBC Radio 1 DJ, took time off from his radio show after announcing the death of his lovely chocolate Labrador, Barney. He asked for privacy as he and his family grieved. His listeners were wonderfully empathetic, many sharing their own stories of pet loss.
But some may have wondered if this wasn’t an over reaction.
I’ve heard people say of a pet’s death “But they’re just a dog”, “just a cat”. This can diminish our grief and emotions, leaving us feeling like we are not understood. We might even feel reluctant to share that we are grieving a lost pet.
After SuzyQ died I was so lucky to have family and friends express genuine care and support for me, as well as sharing their memories and photos of her. It really helps to know we can talk about the loved one we have lost and that they mattered to other people too.
Understanding grief really helps, but we don’t think grief, we feel it
In the first few days after SuzyQ’s death I thought I was going mad. Couldn’t concentrate, found myself staring into the middle distance, didn’t want to leave my house, burst into tears in my local cafe.
Rationally I knew this was all grieving, which helped me, but I also knew I had to go through the painful and raw emotions of loss.
Ugly, snotty crying.
My IBS flared up for about three months.
Grief happens in our bodies too. And it’s all a healthy, normal reaction to loss.
Guilt magnifies grief
Oh goodness, all those maddening thoughts:
What if…
I should have…
I could have…
Trying to rewrite the painful story to achieve a better/different outcome.
SuzyQ had kidney failure and she deteriorated alarmingly rapidly. I knew the terrible day would come (anticipatory grief) when I would have to make the necessary, kind but devastating decision to have her put to sleep.
I called out an emergency vet, and she was incredibly kind, but I was shocked that she did not make the decision for me. Rightly, she said I must decide.
The anguish!
But I knew it was time and that I wanted SuzyQ to die at home, with me.
I had watched endless youtube videos about pet euthanasia, and one piece of advice really helped me and has sat with me ever since:
“Better a month too soon than a day too late.”
The guilt is overwhelming and I felt unbelievably sorry. But with compassion I reminded myself that guilt was natural and I could choose to let that guilt go, to forgive myself. I made the best decision I could at the time - it may not have been perfect, but it was what I thought was right. And I made it with love.
Ritual matters
How we participate in the loss and saying goodbye really matters. Other people deal with loss professionally and know how to support us, to steer us, when our world has become a discombobulating swirl of shock, sadness and guilt.
The vet talked me through the options for dealing with SuzyQ’s body, and was supportive of my request to carry SuzyQ’s body to her car so she could take her to the crematorium. Holding SuzyQ’s body was bittersweet. I felt it was my responsibility to care for her in death as I had in life.
Then the pet crematorium handled her remains with such care and respect. Collecting her ashes was achingly difficult, but it felt wonderful to bring her back home.
These rituals provide comfort as it feels like a trodden path and acknowledgement of our loss. There are others who have walked this path.
Accepting and adapting takes time
Our brains have a really hard time understanding loss - our loved one is gone but our relationship with them is everlasting.
Coming home and not hearing her meow angrily at me for having the temerity to go out. Not having her warm, furry, purring body snuggled on my lap every evening.
Pet loss leaves a gaping hole in our daily lives. Losing a dog can be even harder as we no longer have to take them for regular walks, which changes our daily structure and can impact our own mental and physical health.
It took me weeks to clear away all her things. I have a friend who is still deciding what to do with his dog’s ashes five years after his dog died. Grief has no prescribed timeline, we do it at our own pace.
Gratitude - it takes practise but helps with healing and hope
We are our pet’s world, we are everything to them. They see us at our best and our worst, being by our side whatever life throws our way.
SuzyQ was my constant companion and comfort when I was having treatment for cancer. I will be forever grateful to her for her unconditional love and comfort. She gave me a reason to get out of bed on my worst days.
My grief has softened over the past year, and I now smile with love and gratitude when I look at her photos or think of her.
I know there will be other pets in my future, but not just yet. For other people the decision is different, and that’s ok.
SuzyQ’s death showed me that each grief is unique. I grieved her loss differently to other losses I have experienced.
Grief is a powerful force which can be blindsiding. Being able to forgive myself and to have the support of others were crucial in making my grief more tolerable.
We do not have to grieve alone. If you are grieving, be that for a pet, a person or any kind of loss there is support. I hold a free monthly Grief & Loss Support Group in Crouch End, North London for the local community and support people one-to-one with grief coaching. Just click below to get in touch.
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