There is a moment familiar to anyone who has lost a dog: you come home, turn the key in the lock and, for half a second, wait for the click of claws on the floor. Then you remember. And the hallway is quieter than it has ever been.
This article does not offer advice from on high. It brings together what grieving people repeatedly describe as helpful, and what you might wish you had read sooner in those first weeks. An article cannot do more than that, and should not try to do less.
Why this grief runs so deep
A dog is there through everything. Your bad mornings, illnesses, break-ups and house moves. Your dog has spent more hours a day with you than most people in your life. When they die, you lose a witness to your life. You lose a rhythm too: getting up, walks, meals, the evening routine. Suddenly there are gaps in the day that you keep falling into.
There is often something else that grief for a person does not involve: the decision. Many of us had to choose the moment ourselves. The feeling of having ended the life of a creature who trusted you is hard to carry. Even when it was the right thing. Especially because it was the right thing.
The grief no one takes seriously
“It was only a dog.” Anyone who has heard those words knows how they feel. There is no compassionate leave for this grief, no shelf of condolence cards, hardly any rituals. You are expected to function again on Monday. That makes things harder, because you begin to feel ashamed of your emotions.
So let us say this first: your grief is valid. It is not excessive, childish or a sign that you cannot manage your life. It is the price of a relationship that brought you happiness every day.
What helps in the first few weeks
- Do not rush to put things away. The bowl, the bed, the lead by the door. Some people need them there for weeks; others put them away on the first day. Both are right. Do it when you are ready, rather than when others expect it.
- Walk the usual route anyway. Many people describe walking without their dog as unbearable, yet helpful at the same time. Your body knows the way. Sometimes it is easier to cry while walking than at home.
- Tell the stories. Find people who understand. Other dog owners, a forum, a friend who has grieved too. Tell the stories, including the ridiculous ones. The day your dog stole the roast. The incident with the hedgehog.
- Put your guilt into words. Almost everyone has some. Going to the vet too late, deciding too soon, not being there. Say it out loud. Often, guilt starts to loosen when you hear the words and realise you acted out of love.
- Include the children. Children grieve differently, often in waves, with play in between. Tell them the truth in simple words. Avoid “went to sleep”, which can make them afraid of sleeping. Let them draw a picture, light a candle or write a letter.
The Rainbow Bridge
The image of the Rainbow Bridge, where our animals wait for us, feels sentimental to some and comforting to many. It comes from a poem whose origins are not entirely clear, and over the years it has become a shared language for grieving people. If it helps you, use it. If it does not, you do not need another image. It is enough that your dog was here.
Memories that stay
At some point, usually after weeks, sometimes months, there comes a day when you look at a photo and smile for the first time instead of crying. That is when memories start to offer comfort. Many people then want something lasting: an album, a picture on the wall, the paw print the vet made.
A portrait from an old photo is one possibility. A phone photo is enough, but the face should be sharp. If the photo is old or small, try it anyway: send it to us and we will tell you honestly what is possible. You will see the result before it is printed. We adjust the design until you are happy with it. There is no pressure, and no need to do it before you are ready.
When the time feels right, a picture in a wooden frame sits more quietly on the wall than a glossy print, and that is often exactly what a memorial portrait calls for. Dog portraits are also available as posters, on canvas and on acrylic glass.
Another dog?
The question comes sooner than you expect, often from other people. There is no right amount of time to wait. Some people need years; others bring home another dog after weeks because a house without a dog does not feel like home. The new dog will be different. They will have their own chapter, without replacing the dog you lost.
If you are in the middle of it now, it does get easier. In time, memories of your dog begin to feel like a presence, rather than only an absence. In the way you talk about dogs. In the glance you give every Labrador in the street. Your dog shaped you. That stays.
To remember them: the memorial portrait on wood.
If you still share your home with an older dog, our books page has “Alter Hund, gute Jahre” (book in German), about the later years you share.
Further reading
- Give a pet portrait as a gift: a way to preserve memories
- Older dog, new rules: making the most of the years before goodbye
- Take your own dog photos: while there is still time for pictures
