Dogs Feel Grief Too

— Here’s How We Can Help Them

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“Grief affects our pets just as much as it does us,” Lorna Winter, an expert in dog behavior, tells Newsweek. So when a pup loses their favorite person, how can we help them?

We spoke with two professional dog behaviorists, and a veterinary medical officer, to find out what we can do to help a pet in mourning. It’s common knowledge that dogs can display a wide range of emotions akin to humans, meaning that they can also experience loss.

“Changes in primary caregivers can also be a big shock for them too as it’s a routine change and it’s not what they were used to,” Winter, a director of the UK Dog Behavior Training Charter and co-founder of Zigzag, continued.

Extra Affection

It can be easy to pinpoint when a dog is grieving, with common signs and symptoms including lethargy, loss of appetite and changes in behavior. Winter said that people close to the dog must try to make them feel more comfortable, to support them through the difficult time.

“Touching and cuddling releases oxytocin in a dog, especially when it’s with someone that they know and are bounded with. It feels nice for us too, so snuggle up,” Winter said.

Winter advises people keen to help grieving dogs to set some time aside within their day to connect with the mourning canine, and to make sure they’re having their emotional and physical needs met.

“It will be a tough time for them, so spend time with the dog, meet their needs and pamper them! That might be just petting your dog or laying together on the couch and watching television,” she added.

Animal behaviorist Kaelee Nelson echoed Winter’s advice. The San Diego-based behaviorist told us that a dog’s comfort should always be prioritized when they’re in mourning or emotional pain.

“Spend more time with your pet, making sure to give them extra affection and companionship to help alleviate feelings of loss and loneliness,” Nelson said.

She added that if the dog were to have a particular item that reminds them of the person that has moved or passed away, like a piece of clothing, that it should be left with them for comfort.

Danny Cox is the chief veterinary medical officer of Petzey, an on-demand digital service that connects pet owners with professional veterinarians.

Cox is in agreement with Winter and Nelson on the importance of paying a close eye to mourning pets, and providing them with as much extra attention as they need. He added that it would be a good idea for those keen to help settle their emotions to develop or follow a routine.

“Routines can offer pets stability. It’s important to maintain or establish a routine, and to monitor for signs of depression or anxiety,” Cox told us.

Nelson adds that this can be achieved by walking or feeding a dog at a similar time a day, or at the time they used to do these activities.

“This can provide a sense of security during a confusing time,” Nelson explained.

Keep Them Distracted

All three animal specialists shared that grieving dogs would benefit from having their minds taken off their dark situation. Just like us, dogs enjoy a change of scenery or a new activity in difficult times, and a distraction can definitely lift their spirits.

The easiest way to do this would be through exercise and stimulation, which can look like anything from a walk to an enrichment activity.

“Exercise is a great stress reliever for dogs, so take them on interesting walks to help them feel more relaxed when they are at home,” Winter said.

“Spend time with them, play games with them and teach them some new tricks with positive reinforcement training to help boost their mood and create positive feelings.”

She also suggested involving chews in more pressing times as chewing, despite being a soothing activity for dogs, can also help to release endorphins.

“If they’re social, rope in their doggy friends and let them play together. They’ll feel better to have the comfort of their own species when they’re feeling sad,” Winter added.

Nelson also champions the power of playtime in helping a grieving pet slowly move on. She encourages those keen to help a mourning dog to engage in regular play and exercise with them to help distract them and keep them physically healthy too.

“This can really help to elevate their mood,” she said.

Another thing that the trio can agree on is that pet dogs may act out when going through a difficult time, and that it’s important for new or recurring owners to be patient with them and give them time to adjust to this new reality.

Cox does add that if a behavioral change persists or becomes severe, concerned carers should speak with professional veterinarians for guidance.

Nelson agrees: “If your pet’s behavior changes drastically or they stop eating or drinking, it may be time to consult a veterinarian. They can provide additional advice or prescribe medications to help with anxiety or depression.”

While every pet is unique in breed and temperament and may grieve differently as a result, it’s crucial that those supporting a dog in mourning understand that while the dog’s in mourning, their love and support will absolutely help them process their love lost.

Complete Article HERE!

All pets go to heaven.

— She helps them do it at home.

Eden Gaines, left, talks with veterinarian Karen Meyers about the decision to euthanize Xochitl, a boxer-Great Dane mix who has cancer.

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Veterinarian Karen Meyers pulls her black minivan into the driveway of a townhouse in Maryland’s National Harbor. The home, in a gated community, is perched on a windy bluff not far from restaurants, bars, a casino — places of revelry.

The vet carries her brown doctor’s bag inside. There, she meets her patient: Xochitl, known as Xochi, an 11-year-old boxer-Great Dane mix weighing around 80 pounds.

Xochi, recently diagnosed with cancer, is struggling. A film covers her right eye. She had been bleeding from her mouth, refusing to eat. Now she stands in the townhouse’s living room, mournfully greeting family members who have come to say goodbye.

Xochi climbs onto the living room’s leather couch and lies down. Owner Eden Gaines and her family gather around her. Meyers opens her bag.

Meyers explains the procedure. First, Xochi will be injected with a sedative to make her fall asleep. Five to 10 minutes later, Meyers will administer sodium pentobarbital, which will euthanize her. But Xochi would feel no pain, Meyers assures the family.

She asks whether anyone has any questions.

No one does.

“Here we go,” she says.

Meyers says she has euthanized 1,500 animals in four years.

Pet adoption spiked during the pandemic, with nearly 1 in 5 American households taking animals in and spending far more on them than pet owners did decades ago. With more beasts in our lives — as companions, as emotional support animals, as the beneficiaries of pet trusts — it only makes sense that their owners want their final moments in their lives to be as peaceful and painless as possible.

That’s where Meyers comes in. Working with Lap of Love, a company that provides veterinarian referrals for at-home pet euthanasia, she travels from house to house in the D.C. region offering grieving families’ animals what the word euthanasia means: “good death.” In four years, she has euthanized 1,500 animals: cats, dogs, rabbits, rats. Some had been with their owners since childhood. Some had traveled the world with them. Some were their owner’s sole companion.

Meyers has observed death rituals that include praying, burning incense, wrapping a deceased pet’s body in a white sheet, and opening a window for a pet’s spirit to exit. She has listened to owners read poems or letters to their pets and cried along with them.

“When people hear what I do for living, it sounds sad,” Meyers says. “But it’s strangely rewarding. … You give pets a peaceful experience. It’s a final gift.”< Meyers has been surrounded by a menagerie all her life. Growing up, she usually had a dog and one or two cats; at various times, she’s also had two hamsters, two turtles, a guinea pig, a bird and four chickens. Right now, she has Wren, a 6-year-old Cavalier King Charles spaniel; Travis, a 3-year-old pug; Brinkley, a 13-year-old rat terrier Chihuahua; and Pablo, a red-belly parrot. Right before the pandemic, Meyers decided to shift to doing euthanasia full time. She had been a veterinarian for more than two decades, and pet euthanasia turned out to be less stressful than working in an office while raising two children. In-home euthanasia can be easier on animals and their owners than office appointments with other sick animals and their distressed owners crowded around.

The first injection makes Xochi fall asleep.
Rameses Gaines holds a piece of Xochi’s fur.

Meyers administers the first shot in Xochi’s back. The dog, already lying down with her head on Gaines’s lap, turns to glance at Meyers as if mildly annoyed.

Then, the dog relaxes.

Minutes pass.

Using a hair clipper, Meyers shaves an inch-long strip of one of Xochi’s legs and inserts a small IV line. After confirming that the family wants to continue, Meyers administers the second shot, the one with the fatal dose.

Gaines looks at the spot on Xochi’s leg where the IV had been inserted.

“It’s amazing how gray she became,” Gaines says.

Meyers holds a stethoscope to Xochi’s chest. “Xochi has her wings,” she says.

The family cries.

So does Meyers.

She and Gaines embrace.

Meyers maneuvers Xochi onto a stretcher and covers her with a blanket. With the help of Gaines’s sons, she loads the dog into her car. Eventually Xochi will be cremated and her ashes returned to the Gaines family.

Death is a part of life, Meyers says.

“Many times, people will comment how a human family member passed, and it was so painful at the end, and this is peaceful by contrast,” she says.

They tell her, she says, that they wish they could go the same way.

Rameses Gaines touches a mold of Xochi’s paw print.

Complete Article HERE!

Asian Elephants display complex mourning rituals similar to humans

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Elephants are smart animals with strong feelings and they often work together. In India’s Bengal area, scientists found that elephants buried five baby elephants, according to a study published in the Journal of Threatened Taxa.

Researchers have limited the study of elephant thanatology—the examination of death and related practices— to the burial of calves. Observers had noted this aspect of behaviour in African elephants but had not documented something similar in Asian elephants until recently, despite both species diverging 4.2 million years ago.

The researchers wanted to clear up the second question – do Asian elephants, like African elephants, mourn their dead calves? And the answer is yes, and it is loud. The vocalizations from the elephants lasted between 30 and 40 minutes, but only in places far from human settlements.

They point out that this behaviour suggests elephants distinguish human spaces from non-human spaces to avoid disagreements. They also mention that elephants limited vocalisation to the burial phase.

The increasing encroachment of human activities into natural habitats and the resulting environmental degradation are forcing elephants to venture into human-dominated areas in search of food and other ecological necessities. This interaction has led to new behaviours in these majestic creatures.

Asian Elephants’ mourning behaviour

Parveen Kaswan, an officer with the Indian Forest Service, and Akashdeep Roy, a researcher at the Indian Institute of Science Education and Research, spent 16 months reviewing literature relating to elephant burials. They found five case reports that document this behaviour.

An elephant calf was buried on a tea estate with its feet visible.

Researchers have revealed that Asian elephants, similar to their African counterparts, engage in what we can describe as mourning rituals. Observations showed them vocalising loudly and burying their deceased calves, exhibiting a level of ritualistic behaviour that parallels human funeral rites.

The study reports a heartbreaking journey of a mother elephant. The mother elephant carried her dead calf for two days before letting it go. This extended time of grieving shows the deep attachment between mother elephants and their offspring. This could have been made stronger possibly by hormonal influences like oxytocin and the long gestation period elephants experience. This response is consistent with other studies on chacma baboons, olive baboons, African elephants and Thornicroft’s giraffes.

As per the study, the burial process is a collective effort, involving not only the mothers but also other females within the herd who act as surrogate caregivers, as well as elephants of various ages. This communal participation underscores the intricate social fabric of elephant herds and their collective mourning when faced with death. Notably, this ritualistic burial is reserved exclusively for the young. The physical impracticality of carrying the larger, heavier adults precludes them from receiving the same rite. This selective practice indicates that the elephants’ mourning and burial customs are particularly significant for the young, whose passing deeply impacts the social structure of the herd.

Compassionate behaviour

The research aimed to understand the ‘perimortem’ strategy and ‘postmortem’ behaviour of Asian elephants. The main evidence shows that someone or something transported the corpses from afar, treated with great care. They buried the corpses in preferred locations, always in a specific posture, which was an unusual lying position with legs upright.

The author said, “Our study found an interesting thing – the placement of carcasses with their paws raised in narrow irrigation drains. This strategic behaviour shows the care and affection of herd members toward the deceased animal and suggests that in a potential crush situation, pack members prioritize the head over the feet,” they highlight.”

“Elephants are social and affectionate animals and, based on an external examination of the carcasses, we also suggest that herd members gently placed the dead calves by grasping one or more legs,” the experts conclude.

The authors of the report thoroughly investigated the underlying reason for the death of the offspring through postmortem examinations. One of the conclusions is that there was no direct human intervention in any of the five deaths.

A buried carcass corresponding to case 3 of Bharnabaritea estate.

“Through direct and indirect evidence, this study highlights compassionate and helpful elephants’s behaviour during carcass burial. Asian elephants transport their deceased calves to isolated places, away from humans and carnivores, while searching for drains irrigation and depressions to bury the body,” the report states.

No infanticide among Asian elephants

Many animal groups, such as monkeys, meat-eaters, and rodents, commit infanticide or baby killing. Different reasons, such as elimination of competition, scarcity of resources, or maintaining social order within a group, contribute to this phenomenon.

However, the researchers found that there was no infanticide among the Asian elephants. They believe there are a few reasons why elephants don’t kill babies:

  • Elephants, particularly females and their young, live in close family groups forming strong bonds. This closeness possibly prevents them from hurting the young, actively encouraging them to cooperate in caring for them.
  • Baby elephants require long term care from their mothers and other females in the herd. This extended care and help from everyone might decrease the likelihood of someone killing a baby.
A buried carcass corresponding to case 2 of Chunabhatitea estate.
  • In the breeding process, elephants reproduce without having to kill their babies to quicken the mother’s readiness for another offspring. Unlike some other animals, the mother cannot immediately have another offspring if she loses a baby. Thereby, eradicating the need for males to kill babies.
  • Male elephants neither directly contribute to raising the babies nor participate in the close female groups. They prioritize finding females ready to mate rather than assuming control over a herd and eliminating other males’ babies. This social structure and breeding style decreases the likelihood of elephants killing babies.

Complete Article HERE!

How to Support Someone Who Has Lost a Pet

— The death of an animal companion can be every bit as devastating as other types of loss.

By Catherine Pearson

On “The Daily Show” this week, the host Jon Stewart broke down as he announced the death of his beloved, three-legged brindle pit bull, Dipper — a raw, touching segment that exemplified the deep grief many pet owners feel.

When an animal dies, owners lose companionship, affection and “just plain unconditional love — and we don’t find that in many places in our lives,” said Sherry Cormier, a psychologist and author of “Sweet Sorrow: Finding Enduring Wholeness After Loss and Grief.”

Our society tends to be “grief-phobic,” Dr. Cormier said, and there is a sense that the feelings prompted by the loss of a pet are relatively low in the hierarchy of suffering, or that it’s something that people should be able to cope with and move on from quickly. Dr. Cormier and other loss experts said that is not always true; and they shared ways to help a loved one through the loss of a pet.

Validate the owner’s loss.

Pet loss can lead to disenfranchised grief, meaning it is not validated or acknowledged by the wider world, said Michelle Crossley, an associate professor at Rhode Island College and vice president of the Association for Pet Loss and Bereavement. Therefore, “a lot of individuals end up grieving in isolation because of fear of rejection from other people,” she said, adding, “They worry that they won’t understand or they’ll minimize the loss.”

Keep it simple when expressing your sympathies, Dr. Cormier said. She suggested something like: “I know your animal was such an important part of your life and family. I can see how much he meant to you and how much you’re already missing him.”

Pet grief is often complicated by feelings of guilt if your friend or loved one opted to put an animal down to minimize suffering, Dr. Cormier said. She has done so with two golden retrievers, but noted the circumstances were quite different. One lived a long, happy life; the other had to be put down unexpectedly because of an aggressive brain tumor.

Resist the urge to say “I know how you feel,” she cautioned, even if your intention is simply to express empathy. “Everyone’s grief is unique,” she added.

Ask how you can help honor the pet.

Rituals are an important part of the grieving process, Dr. Crossley said, but they are sometimes overlooked when an animal dies. Perhaps your friend would welcome a memorial service, she suggested, or would like to make a memento box with photos and a few of his pet’s favorite toys.

If your friend or loved one is experiencing anticipatory grief — that is, she knows a pet is getting old or is likely to die soon — you might ask whether you can help plan any “bucket list” activities that she would like to do with her pet. You could consider giving your friend a meaningful gift. For instance, Dr. Crossley has seen people turn a pet’s water bowl into a planter. (She has a shelf where she keeps the ashes from the five dogs she has lost, along with their photos and paw prints, she noted.)

Keep in mind the physical component of your friend’s loss. “People report really intense physical longing, oftentimes comparing it to what they imagine the loss of a limb feels like,” said Judith Harbour, a veterinary social worker with the Schwarzman Animal Medical Center in New York City, who helps run pet loss support groups (which are another option for people experiencing acute grief after the passing of a pet). There is not an easy fix for that longing, she said, but sometimes an object to hold or cuddle with, like a blanket that belonged to the pet, can help.

Reminisce with your loved one.

The fact that people sometimes feel embarrassed to open up about how much they are missing their pet can contribute to feelings of loneliness and isolation, Dr. Cormier said. Simply encouraging them to share stories, photos or videos of their pet if they are up for it can help them feel less alone in their suffering, she said. And, if possible, listen more than you talk.

Be there for the long haul.

All of the experts noted the common misconception that pet-related grief doesn’t last as long as other types of grief. But it is cyclical, Dr. Cormier said, and she urged people to check in with friends and loved ones not just days or weeks after a loss, but for months or even years after the fact.

Do not ask whether your friend or loved one intends to get another pet, Ms. Harbour said. She lamented that almost everyone she had counseled after the loss of a pet had been asked that question. Mourning takes time.

“Don’t forget about them,” Ms. Harbour said of grieving pet lovers. “Check in and give them time to chat about their pet with you. That is really meaningful, because people often feel that the world is turning and time is passing and no one remembers their animal.”

Complete Article HERE!

I’d only met my neighbor a few times. When she died I took in her dog.

— As we walk the halls of the children’s hospital, I hope my neighbor is smiling, knowing how much joy her dog brings to everyone she meets

Lisa Kanarek with her dog Gaia, who she adopted after Gaia’s former owner died. Gaia is now a pet therapy dog, and the two regularly visit a children’s hospital. Gaia’s birthday is Valentine’s Day.

by Lisa Kanarek

In the early morning after Thanksgiving, I awoke to red lights blinking through the blinds. I slipped a long, puffy coat over my pajamas and rushed outside.

An ambulance idled in my 80-year-old neighbor Sandra’s driveway as paramedics rolled a gurney into her home. Although I hardly knew her, my neighbor’s last trip to the hospital would set off a ripple effect that would change my life and affect others she’d never met.

I remembered Sandra had a large dog, so I texted her friend, Gilda. She took care of the pup any time my neighbor was away, and Gilda and I had exchanged numbers once. Gilda was out of town and told me where to find the spare key to Sandra’s house.

During the three years my husband and I lived next door, I had only been inside Sandra’s home twice. The first was a few weeks after we moved in. I rang the doorbell, and Sandra, dressed in a colorful skirt and blouse, invited me in. I guessed she was in her late 70s.

After introducing myself, her dog walked up to me, sniffed my shoes, then lay on her side.

“I’m Sandra, and this is Gaia,” she said. “She loves having her stomach rubbed.”

I liked my neighbor immediately. She was direct and matter-of-fact with her conversation.

“Trash pickup is on Mondays, and introduce yourself to the security patrol so they’ll know who you are if you need them,” she said as she wrote down her phone number and the security number. She told me about neighborhood parties. “I don’t have time for those,” she said. “I have other things I’d rather do.”

The second time I saw her was a month later when I brought her a plant. She had thanked me for the gift but hadn’t invited me in.

I thought of Sandra and our last conversation as I turned the key and stepped inside her home. The caramel and white husky strolled toward me, her head down and her eyes locked on mine.

Unable to remember the dog’s name, I looked down at the silver tag on her collar. “Hi, Gaia,” I said. She dropped to the ground and rolled on her back so I could rub her white belly.

I texted Gilda to ask if the pup could stay with us until she came back to town. “Sure. Thank you!” she wrote back. During the next few days, Gilda called to tell me she was trying to find someone to watch the dog while Sandra was in the hospital. I told her not to worry; my husband and I would take care of Gaia. I walked her twice daily.

A week later, when Sandra returned home, Gilda temporarily moved into the second bedroom and became her full-time caregiver. As my neighbor’s health deteriorated, Gilda and I became friends. I asked her if I could continue my walks with the dog.

Each time I picked up Gaia, Gilda and I chatted for at least 10 minutes. During one of these conversations, she asked me a question I wasn’t expecting.

“Do you want to keep Gaia when Sandra is gone?”

“She’s not going to live with you?” I asked.

“I wish she could, but we might be moving, and the new yard is too small for her,” she said.

“We’re happy to adopt her,” I answered. “We love Gaia already.”

>Less than two weeks later, Gilda texted me: “The hospice nurse is on her way. I think it’s time.” Within an hour after I arrived at her home, my frail neighbor took her last breath. I waited in the kitchen as Gilda and her husband said their tearful goodbyes.

The hospice nurse called the funeral home, and Gilda’s husband stepped into the kitchen. He patted Gaia on the head and scratched her back. “It’s time to take her to your house,” he said.

I attached her faded orange leash to her matching collar. By the time we crossed Sandra’s driveway and stepped onto my lawn, tears dripped onto my coat. I was mourning a woman I’d only talked with twice, but I felt connected to her through her animal companion, now mine. For weeks, I watched Gaia closely, knowing she would be sad, confused and possibly disoriented moving to a new home.

A month after Sandra died, I completed training as an end-of-life doula. Gaia was calm on our daily walks, even around the small children who stopped to pet her, so she seemed to be a good match as a therapy dog.

I finished the online training with Pet Partners, passed the in-person test and then applied to volunteer at a local children’s hospital.

On our first day at the hospital, I hid my shock at seeing a young girl with a shaved head and tubes attached to her arm, a patch on her hand to hold the IV needle in place. I knew the hospital specialized in treating complex cases, but I hadn’t mentally prepared for what I would find behind each door. Gaia had a different reaction, not hesitating to pad up to the bed and let the girl scratch her behind her ears.

Now, every other week, I slip Gaia’s purple therapy dog vest over her neck, and we head across town to see patients and their families. Before leaving the hospital room, I hand the child a trading card with Gaia’s picture on the front and facts about her on the back: favorite food, activities she likes and her birthday. When I could not confirm her date of birth, I listed my neighbor’s birthday, Feb. 14.

More than eight months later, I’m no longer surprised by the young patients we see. I follow Gaia’s lead and focus on making the children smile. They rub her back and tell me about their pets. Recently, one little boy asked for her phone number, while another told his mom, “Look at her badge, Mom. She’s a doctor!”

Gaia’s life changed when she became part of our family. She interacts with the kids down the street (her fan club) during our walks, and she provides laughter and levity to sick children, all with her tail wagging. She goes with us on road trips and to outdoor festivals where she knows that people will stop to run their hands down her fluffy back or ask her for a high-five.

My life is different too. Meeting dozens of people during our visits has brought out the extrovert tendencies I lost during the pandemic. Before I knock on each patient’s door, I breathe in, then greet families with confidence, knowing the reaction my sidekick will receive. The same skills I’ve learned through being with Gaia, I use as an end-of-life doula. One of the first ways I bond with a patient or a family member is through a conversation about our dogs.

Adopting my neighbor’s dog has allowed me the opportunity to pay it forward in ways I’ve never experienced before. As we pass through the halls of the children’s hospital, I think of Sandra and hope she’s smiling, knowing how much joy Gaia brings to everyone she meets.

Complete Article HERE!

My pets have stolen my heart again and again.

— I know I’m not alone.

Our relationships with animals can be as strong as those we have with humans, and far less complicated

By Marlene Cimons

The most searing memory of my childhood was the day my mother finally agreed to get us a puppy, only to change her mind several hours later. She decided it would be too much work. Growing up, all I ever wanted was a dog or a cat. All I ever got was a turtle, countless goldfish and two parakeets.

Not surprisingly, the first thing I did after leaving home was get a kitten, a half-Siamese who lived to nearly 20, then a Burmese who made it to 17. When my kids were old enough — 10 and 13 — we got a chocolate lab puppy, as much for me as for them. The kids grew up and left, but Hershey stayed. She was my first dog and — with no husband or partner — my best friend.

The years brought a half-dozen more cats and two more dogs, Watson, a black lab then age 6 months, and Raylan, a yellow shepherd mix, who, at 4 years old, arrived with a BB pellet in his leg and a clear case of post-traumatic stress. With patience and love, Ray morphed from a fearful defensive stray into a devoted and trusting companion.

Today I live with Watson, now 10, the king of fetch, a mama’s boy who follows me everywhere; Chloe, 15, a long-haired part-Maine Coon cat, who loves dogs more than other cats; and Zachy, 10, a gray and black tabby obsessed with food — and my socks. All are rescues.

It was predictable after my pet-deprived youth that I would have animals. What surprised me was the intensity of my feelings for them, and how much my relationship with them would come to define my life.

I was paralyzed with grief and guilt (did I do the right thing?) when Hershey, at 13, was diagnosed with an advanced untreatable cancer and I had to let her go. Similarly, I fell apart after Raylan, then 12, and two of the cats, Max, almost 18, and Leo, 15, also developed cancer, and — in a recent short time span — were gone. Today I feel intermittent anxiety about Watson, Chloe and Zachy, the scientific term being anticipatory grief.

Social media is rife with personal stories of the animal/human bond, especially how difficult it can be to say goodbye. Our relationships with our pets often are as strong as and sometimes stronger than, those we have with our humans, and far less complicated. This may explain our deep connection with them.

“Often, pets are our first or even only chosen family when we leave childhood homes, when we live alone, when our children leave, when we go through breakups,” says Marjie Alonso, former executive director of the International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants and the IAABC Foundation. “Our pets provide a steady, stable presence in a way humans do not.”

Researchers sometimes use attachment theory to describe this bonded relationship between humans and their pets, which holds that humans are born with an innate need to bond with a caregiver, usually their mother. “For many pet owners, the attachment relationships we develop are as emotionally close and similar in intensity as a human attachment,” says Michael Meehan, a senior lecturer in veterinary science at Massey University in New Zealand. “Our pets also display the same attachment behavior toward us.”

Sandra McCune, visiting professor in human-animal interaction in the schools of psychology and life sciences at the University of Lincoln in England, agrees. “It may be that companion animals have hijacked our innate desire to form attachments,” she says. “They depend on us like a child that never grows up.”

My companion animals make up the rhythm of my days — and nights. It’s not just the walk/runs with Watson, or his endless preoccupation with tennis balls, or ensuring Chloe gets her medicines on time, and that Zachy has the special food he needs to prevent urinary blockages.

It’s also those exquisitely sweet moments: Watson, warm against my back while I sleep, and Chloe, who starts on my stomach, then moves into the crook of my arm when I shift. Zachy, still dog-wary, stays downstairs overnight, but waits at the bottom of the steps and demands breakfast as soon as he hears us stir.

“Pets tend to be always the same, even on good and bad days, reliably who they are and reliably ours in our relationship with them,” Alonso says. “Their own needs and wants are fixed around food, enrichment and care, focusing on us, rather than ‘Is my promotion going to come through?’ ‘You forgot our anniversary,’ or, ‘What do you want for dinner?’”

Emily Bray, assistant professor of human-animal interaction in the University of Arizona College of Veterinary Medicine, agrees. “When they are tuned into us, you have their full attention. They are not texting on their phones,” she says.

My children have their own lives now — and their own cats — and make their own decisions. But pets need us to make choices for them, even when it isn’t easy. “Pet owners have to decide when the time comes for euthanasia, which often complicates grief and doesn’t often exist in relation to human death,” says Meehan, also a pet grief counselor. “Unlike human death, there are no traditional rituals or protocols in place to memorialize a pet.”

McCune calls anticipatory grief a normal response to the prospect of loss. “It’s part of the love you have for them,” she says. “Enjoy them while you have them, make and keep memories for when they go. There are just some very special dogs and cats, the ones that steal your heart, that you constantly involve in your life, and that you change your life for.”

That has been true for me and, as it turned out, for my parents, too. Years after my brothers and I moved out, my sister-in-law gifted my parents, then in their 70s, with their first dog, a cocker spaniel puppy.

Too much work? Maybe. But they were too smitten to care.

Complete Article HERE!

Grieving the death of a pet

— Here’s how to help kids cope, according to experts

Involving your children in your pet’s death helps them grieve.

For many kids, the death of a pet is their first experience with grief. Here’s how to help them get through it, according to experts.

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Many parents aren’t sure how to talk about the death of a pet with their kids. Children often have not experienced death and loss before, and many do not have an understanding of permanency yet. Thankfully, there are some experts in pet loss — and a slew of helpful books — that can help families cope with the death of a beloved pet.

As a veterinarian and mom of four, Dr. Stephanie Nelson has had a lot of experience with losing pets — and with how to talk to kids about it. Her kids, who range in age from 2 to 11 years, are used to having several dogs at a time, and many of those dogs joined their family as adults. “My kids have experienced losing many pets. My kids very much understand that dogs don’t live forever, and we are very open in discussion about the fact that they will see all of their pets die at some point,” says Nelson.

While a pet’s death will always be painful, there are some strategies and tips that can help children navigate their feelings. Here, Nelson and others share how to help kids cope with the loss of a pet, including how to talk about their grief and what to do to help them work through those painful and confusing feelings.

Whether you’re preparing kids to say goodbye to a beloved pet or sharing an unexpected loss, there are a few things to keep in mind as you explain the situation.

Be honest about what’s happening

Some of the language adults use to soften the blow of pet death can be confusing for kids, says Cōlleen O’Brien, a licensed social worker and the founder of BLUE dog Counseling. Phrases like “put to sleep” or “cross the rainbow bridge” make sense to adults because we are used to hearing them. To kids, those phrases are confusing and often scary, says O’Brien.

“Start with fewer details. You can always work up from there based on their questions. Young people are great investigative reporters.”
— Cōlleen O’Brien, licensed social worker

“We say they died or they will die, and that means that they won’t ever be awake or their body won’t be working. And they won’t be here with us,” she offers instead. She says to keep it as simple as possible. “Start with fewer details. You can always work up from there based on their questions,” she adds. “Young people are great investigative reporters.”

Help kids understand the process

Jana DeCristofaro, the community response program coordinator at The Dougy Center: The National Grief Center for Children and Families, says that pet euthanasia in particular may be hard for children to understand. “It’s different than when we talk to kids about a human in our life dying. As adults, you’re often making a decision in collaboration with a vet to help end a pet’s life, and we don’t really do that with humans yet.”

There’s a few simple scripts DeCristofaro says are helpful for parents to use:

  • “When our pet can’t get better and is suffering, we need to help end their suffering.”
  • “The doctor will give Franklin a medicine, just for animals, and that medicine will let them die peacefully and painlessly.”

DeCristofaro also recommends The Dougy Center’s guide to helping children cope with pet death, created in conjunction with Debra Lee, the veterinary wellbeing director at the DoveLewis Emergency Animal Hospital.

Offer reassurance

Letting children know that euthanasia is a choice due to suffering helps them process the deliberate act of ending a pet’s life. Clarifying that the medication is only for animals can ease fears. It’s important to reiterate that the pet will not feel anything when they pass away.

Helping kids cope with the death of a pet

While some children experience the loss of a human loved one devastatingly early in life, for most children, a pet’s death is their first experience with grief and loss. The skills they use to navigate the loss of the family dog are part of a foundation that will help them handle other losses throughout their lifetime — think of it as a chance to add to their emotional toolkit.

Viewing pet death as a form of grief is actually a relatively new way to look at it, says O’Brien. “Pet loss only started to be acknowledged in the 80s,” she says. “They were going like, ‘Hey, folks, we’ve missed lots of forms of grief.’” The death of a pet can affect kids — and grown-ups — in the same way that losing a human family member can, so it is important to acknowledge how big this may feel to your kids. Here are some expert suggestions to help them work through it.

1. Make room for complex emotions

It’s important to recognize that kids process grief differently at various ages, says O’Brien. “The question I get a lot is, ‘My little one is totally upset, and then the next minute they’re playing with their dolls. Is there something wrong with them that they’re not registering this properly?’” That compartmentalizing of grief is actually very common for young kids, she says. They may grieve for short periods of time and then appear unfazed.

For older kids, tweens and beyond, parents may see more classic signs of grief. “They’re conscious enough to know death is permanent,” says O’Brien, “but they haven’t had a lot of experience with permanency, so they’re grappling with that.” She says tweens and older kids are the age group that often becomes very quiet or even explosively angry at times while grieving.

2. Let kids take the lead

When kids are dealing with grief and loss, all the experts say it’s better to let them take the lead on processing their feelings. Offer basic information and answer follow-up questions. “As a parent you’ve got your kids in front of you, and your biggest priority is their well-being,” says DeCristofaro. “Our biggest instinct is to protect our kids from pain.” That instinct, though, can also prevent them from getting to say goodbye and feel what it means to grieve. If your pet’s death is not sudden and there’s a chance to say goodbye, offer it to your kids. If they say no, do not push.

“I think that it is good to have rituals with kids when they lose a pet. We scatter some of the ashes in that dog’s favorite place.”
— Dr. Stephanie Nelson, veterinarian

3. Create a goodbye ritual to help ease the pain

When one of their dogs is showing signs of aging or a terminal illness, Nelson says they use truthful language to explain what is happening. If they know when the death will happen, they prepare the kids and follow the same rituals each time.

“We spoil the dog beforehand. Every one of our dogs gets a whole Happy Meal that the kids get to feed to them,” she says. They let the kids say goodbye, but do not let them witness euthanasia. The family also keeps photos of beloved dogs on shelves in their house. The kids often stop by to look at them and share a memory or two, which Nelson thinks is helpful for them. “I think that it is good to have rituals with kids when they lose a pet. We scatter some of the ashes in that dog’s favorite place,” she says.

4. Consider censoring certain parts of your pet’s death

Some kids may ask if they can see the pet be euthanized or see them after they die. “Most people do not bring younger kids to a euthanasia and instead choose to say goodbye at home,” says Nelson of young children. Some tweens and teens do ask to come along, and she advises being honest about what they will see. “Some children do not want the last visual of their pet being after it has passed away; it is often easier on them to remember only the pet alive and at home,” she says.

As for viewing ashes or other remains, that is another decision to let the child make once you’ve provided them with all the information. Explain that their pet will not look like they remember — ashes will look like a small pile of bone shards and dust, and a deceased intact pet will be cold and stiff. O’Brien says it is better to wait until the child asks, rather than to offer.

5. Practice bibliotherapy

All of the experts love bibliotherapy, or the art of using books to process emotions. They recommend the following books to help kids deal with the death of a pet:

Nelson adds that for older kids and teens, any book on grief is helpful, even if it’s not pet-specific — kids are able to make those mental connections as they age.

When to get a new pet after a loss

As to when to get a new pet? That’s another great place to let children lead, though it is important to make sure the whole family is on board with adding another animal. Some families find getting a new pet quickly helps kids shift their focus from the loss, while others need more time to feel ready. Both options are normal and acceptable.

Many kids worry their deceased pet will resent a new pet. “We ask, ‘What would your pet think if you gave another pet a loving home and cared for them?’” says O’Brien. “Most kids say, ‘Well, they would want me to do that.’”

The bottom line

Losing a pet is one of the most difficult experiences a family can go through. But, with the right preparation and openness to discuss big feelings, it can also be a foundational moment in a child’s life where they learn how to navigate grief and loss. As you navigate a loss, don’t forget to talk to your veterinarian, too. Many are experienced in helping families navigate pet death and can be a great source of support.

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