Understanding Companion Animal Loss

This is one of the last photos taken of my beloved hound, Shaun. Fondly known as Shaun Boy or Mr Shaun, he was my constant companion. I was 25 and living on my own when I first rescued him as a puppy from the RSPCA. He came on many adventures and house moves with me, and patiently accepted my two daughters and pet rabbits into our expanding family unit. In short, he was the stuff of legends and his death at the grand old age of 15 in 2014 was heart wrenching.

Yesterday marked nine years since he was put to sleep. Nine years is a long time, and yet I still shed a tear when I remembered him - his boundless enthusiasm, his way of sneaking under the duvet in the morning and his infuriating way of spitting kibble everywhere when eating. Not forgetting the tumbleweed of fluff all over the house. So many memories.

“But they were just a dog”.

Research has indicated that for most people the loss of a pet dog (or cat) is comparable to the loss of a close friend or relative (Archer, 1997). For people that have never formed an attachment with a companion animal, this level of grief is difficult to appreciate and many would consider it an over-reaction, responding by saying “but they were only a dog”.

However, for those that have experienced the loss of a beloved companion animal, the grief is extremely intense.

Unconditional love

There are a number of explanations for the intensity of the grief, the first of which focuses on the human-dog attachment bond. Dogs have adapted to living with humans for the past 10,000 years and have developed into socially skilled animals that interact with humans in much the same way that we interact with other people. The playful characteristics of dogs makes them appealing to humans as pets in the first instance, and helps people form an attachment bond comparable to that between a parent and child..

The unconditional love and uncritical positive feedback given by companion animals may make the human-companion animal relationship more satisfying than many human-human relationships. As such, companion animals are often idealised as an angelic being that can do no wrong.

The strength of the bond between a human and their companion animal is often stronger than between family members or friends. When this attachment bond is broken through loss, grief is felt especially strongly.

Our closest companions

Companion animals closely share our lives. We see them every day and adjust our daily routine to suit their needs. We eat at similar times, exercise together, play together and relax together. They become an integral part of the rituals of daily life that make up a family and, as such, are considered family members.

The loss of a companion animal can, therefore, cause a significant disruption to daily routine and have a massive impact on family life, just in the same way that a loss of a close family member would.

An intimate experience with death

Companion animal death can create a very intimate experience with death. The death of a cat or dog is often the first encounter many people have with the loss of a loved one and owners may have had to make a decision with regards to euthanasia.

Although euthanasia is often the kindest and most compassionate option, it is a very difficult decision to make and can leave owners with immense feelings of guilt. The owners may go over and over again in their head the decision they made to have their dog or cat put to sleep, asking ‘what if’ and ‘did I do the right thing’ questions.

To add to the intensity of the situation, many owners are left to deal with the body of their deceased pet, whereas they can remain more detached and removed from the death of a human if they so wish.

Without the rituals of funerals, burials, cremations and wakes that accompany the death of a human, there is not the same level of social support to help owners come to terms with their loss. However, social acceptability of grieving for a pet is now changing and pet memorials and pet cemeteries are becoming more widespread.

Stages of grief

Swiss psychiatrist, Kubler-Ross outlined a model for five stages of grief in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying. The five stages are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. The stages are not linear and some people may not experience all or any of the stages in their own grief.

In terms of dealing with my grief for Mr Shaun, I felt the deepest sadness after the death of Shaun that left me feeling overwhelmed and helpless. He was an old dog, who at 15 ½ years, had lived far longer than many dogs. However, his old age and slowly degenerating condition did still not prepare me for the strength of my feeling of loss after he was put to sleep. 

The immediate emptiness that I felt in our busy family home was staggering. The empty space on the floor where his bed used to be was difficult to adjust to and on a number of occasions I would think that a shadow out the corner of my eye was him walking into the room. I had an intense longing to ruffle my fingers through his thick fur again.

It was difficult to talk about my feelings of loss. Because his euthanasia was carefully considered and discussed over many months before finally taking place, it seemed as though I should have come to terms with his loss and accepted it from the outset.

However, no amount of careful planning could prepare me for the intensity of my grief. It was especially difficult to talk about it with work colleagues and friends who were not ‘dog-people’ and were definitely in the ‘he was only a dog’ camp.

Acceptance

I had thought that we would have had a gap of a few years before getting a new dog. However, after two months, I felt ready to move on and this is where acceptance comes into play.

I was able to understand that I was sad that Shaun had died, but I was going to be ok. As the fog began to lift from my grief, I realised that there was a huge dog-shaped hole in our family that needed filling and I began to look into getting a new puppy.

I was insistent that the new dog would not replace Shaun, and so chose a dog that was very different. In the end we selected a female sprocker spaniel, Lottie. The happiness that Lottie, brought into our family certainly helped with the grief for Shaun. But that is not to say that I didn’t (and still do nine years later) have reoccurring waves of sadness and also fondness as I remember Shaunie Boy.

He will always be a legend.

Mr Shaun on his last camping trip, where he celebrated his 15th Birthday.

References

Archer, J. Why do people love their pets? Evolution and Human Behaviour.  18(4): 237-2559. [Online].

Kubler-Ross,  E. (1969). On Death and Dying. London, Routledge.