There are so many layers to the grief of losing a pet. When faced with the heartbreaking loss of a furry, scaled or feathered member of the family, there is often one thing that feels like a big old elephant in the room: exploring the decision to get a new pet. It seems like all anyone wants to know or suggest is about “getting another one”.
Considering loving another is, for many, unimaginable. Especially early in grief. But society tends to think this is the “fix” for pet loss grief. It’s infuriating. Yet, even if we have privately given it thought, it’s a topic seldom discussed openly and candidly.
So, let’s just expose it. Putting it out there and talking about it normalizes that this is not an easy decision. This is not like replacing your favorite sneakers when they’ve seen better days. We’re talking about loving again after losing someone so important to you. Maybe the greatest love of your life. The mere thought of it can be painful.
Loss itself is overwhelming. Considering loving again can feel just as overwhelming.
As humans, we’re often wired to excel at worry, anxiety and fear. These three skills play a big role in grief and why a decision like this is not as simple as, “just get another one”.
Let’s dig into four compelling reasons why this is so hard. And one reason to keep an open mind.
Guilt and feelings of betrayal
Pretty much the #1 stopper. We basically convince ourselves that loving another is some type of betrayal. That our pets will be on the other side, with hurt feelings. Grief can make you think that living with unrelenting pain and anguish are proof of loyalty and anything different sends a message to your loved one that you’re “over them”.
Another layer of that onion is that if your pet did not particularly like other animals or other pets near you, you believe that they will be in stark disapproval that another pet is in your personal space, never mind you opening your heart to them.
Sometimes as humans we need to gently challenge some of the cruel things our mind does. Is living the rest of your life alone and in pain really proof of your love and is it what your loved one would hope for you?
Flip it around for a second… if you died first, would you want your pet to live a life of despair and solitude? I’m guessing you wouldn’t. The hope would be that they’d find a family to love them, give them enrichment and care in a safe home. Just like you did. And that they’d find happiness again, even while missing the love of their life.
‘Betrayal’ and guilt tend to grow from a story we tell ourselves. Hearts are not hard-drives and nothing is ever getting overwritten. As hard as it is sometimes, humans do have the capacity to love, to lose, to grief and to heal.
Fear of Comparison
It is human nature to compare. For this reason, it’s a good idea to not consider getting a new pet until you have a glimmer of excitement about learning someone new. Their quirks and personality. What makes them different might be just what you need and love.
But also rest assured that you can (and will) notice the differences in a new pet vs the loved one that has passed. It is possible to make comparisons that don’t become deal breakers. You can make observations and also accept them for who they are. “Bella never cared about food as much as Gizmo does” does not have to translate into Gizmo being a beggar means you can’t love him.
Comparison and comparison with conditions for love, are different.
Attachment Fears
Basically, the fear of ever grieving so hard again. Pet loss grief shakes up your world. It can make you feel like you’re in quicksand. The heaviness of grief and the clarity of how much your pet has meant to you can be a building block to a ten foot security fence around your heart. Never wanting to feel or know grief so personally again is honestly a valid feeling.
Grief sucks. It hurts. It hurts so much because it’s like a mirror to love. Where there is really deep love, there will be really deep grief. The thought of purposely doing it again can seem unfathomable. But, one of my favorite sayings to remember is, “A ship in the harbor is safe, but not what ships are built for” (John A. Shedd). Your heart is safe from grief if you choose not to love another, but is that really what hearts are made for?
As hard and painful as grief is, the love is worth it. That might not ring true for everyone, but if you’re reading this, just know that there is hope. If you decide to invite love into your life again, grieving again “someday” may be inevitable. But all the amazing stuff in between becomes an era of who you are and the story of your life.
We might be really good at worrying about the future, but we can also be really good at living in the present chapter. It just takes a little practice.
Navigating Grief
The thought of getting a new pet often comes with the connotation and fear that ‘grief is over’. Sometimes other people will think we’ve moved on and sometimes it makes us feel like we’re leaving grief (and loved ones) in the past.
It’s not true. This is another instance of the story our brains try to convince us of. You can be grieving and also, work, shop, laugh, exercise, eat, sleep. And even love. Other people, pets, plants. We can do two things at once.
Humans are so complex and when you’re on the journey of grief, nothing puts a hard stop on it. Literally nothing except maybe stuffing it down somewhere and not feeling it. But even still, it’s not gone, and it will return at some point.
Grieving and living are not mutually exclusive. And loving is part of that. As grief evolves, if we can find ways to live well then we can also grieve well. If part of your living well is opening your heart again, it simply means you’re doing that while you’re grieving.
We don’t move on from grief, we move forward with it. Should that include a new pet, it may mean that new love is part of what helped you move forward with your grief.
The decision on whether to get a new pet is very personal. Your feelings may be steadfast or may evolve. And no one can dictate what is right for you.
That one reason to keep an open mind that I mentioned? It’s the feeling of recognizing yourself again. Often our identity is so defined in the details of loving and caring for a pet that having a big question mark there is a heavy layer of loss.
Who am I if no one needs me to get out of bed or feed them? Who am I if I’m not setting aside money for veterinary care and making regular trips to the pet store. How do I get outside and exercise or socialize now? How do I wake up and tackle the day without someone to fill up my cup at the end of it?
Allowing yourself space to explore if getting a new pet will help the world seem familiar again, is a kindness. The answer doesn’t have to be yes. The kindness is in letting yourself be open to it and finding your own answer.
