When my dog Barry died
When my beloved dog Barry died in 2021 I thought I might never be able to leave the house again. The grief was so deep I could barely cope with walking out my front door in case I bumped into a neighbour who would clearly see that Barry – my fur baby, my constant companion, my best buddy and usual sidekick – was no longer by my side.
I adopted Barry from the Lort Smith Hospital in 2006. Two months later I was diagnosed with uterine cancer, 3 weeks later I had a radical hysterectomy and would never be able to have a child of my own. Throughout all of this Barry was my saviour, my solace – he became the child I could never have. We shared 15 fabulous years together.
If Barry had been a person, there would have been a service. A funeral with people coming together to offer sympathy and say some special words. There would have been carefully crafted ways to capture this heartbreaking loss and process this grief that could not be comforted. But because he was a dog… there was nothing. One moment he was here, and then he was gone.
And I remember thinking how strange that was, how disorienting it felt, to be carrying a grief so big and so deep with nowhere for it to land.
The grief we don’t always name
The loss of a pet is often underestimated or brushed aside. Everyone’s first response seems to be to ask when you will get another! For so many of us, our pets are woven into the fabric of daily life. They are there in our routines, linking us to our community, our social connections and giving us their unconditional love and cuddles.
So when they’re gone, it’s not just the big absence – it’s all the small ones too. And it can be a grief that feels like it has nowhere to go. Nowhere to be seen, held or acknowledged.
What a pet farewell ceremony is
A pet farewell creates that space. To say good bye, to say thank you. To say “I love you.
There is no set way to do it. It might involve gathering the people who knew and loved your pet best at their favourite spot – the park, the beach, or even at home. It might be simple and quiet, or it might include more sharing and reflection.
People might tell stories, share memories, or speak about the gifts their pet brought into their life. There might be a reading, a song, or even a sharing of the abundant funny made-up names you used to call them.
If there are children involved, they might want to take part too – painting a picture, writing a poem, or sharing their favourite memory. It gives them a way to express what they’re feeling, rather than holding it all in.
Why it matters
A pet farewell is not about making the grief disappear, or about “moving on”.
It’s about acknowledging the life they shared with you, the depth of your loss, and the love that still exists even after they’re gone.
It can help you begin to process your grief and move gently towards healing. Not by letting go of them, but by finding a way to carry them forward with love, gratitude and connection.
What I offer
A simple, personalised farewell ceremony.
Time to sit and talk about your beloved pet and what they meant to you
Guidance on what to include, say, or do on the day
Support with readings, rituals, music and small personal touches
A calm, gentle presence to hold the space on the day
Flexibility to hold the farewell in your chosen location – at home, in their favourite park, or somewhere they loved
Because saying goodbye to a pet deserves space. And care. And something that honours just how much they meant.
I’d love to hear how I might be able to help you.
