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Caring for Grieving Animals
The ongoing controversy about how animals feel and think will probably continue until such time as the human race reaches a true understanding about these other life forms with which we share this planet. In the meantime, a conversation with fellow animal carers will soon reveal many anecdotes about the intelligence and sensitivity seen or sensed in their beloved charges. Whilst there is clearly much room for natural research into this area, some of us have certainly experienced what looks like grief in a surviving pet. This may be from the loss of another pet or the human who previously cared for them. And sometimes, the pet’s distress may be a combination of their own loss and a reaction to the general upset and fallout within the household.
To expand a little on pet grief, I’d like to share this story about a little dog whose guardian died suddenly and unexpectedly. It demonstrates the animal’s grief and reaction to the upset in the home:
A few years ago I regularly stopped to chat to an elderly gentleman who walked his Jack Russell terrier in the local park each day, where I often took my own dog. The dog was called Ruby, as the gentleman and his wife had taken her in on their Ruby wedding anniversary nine years previously. Unfortunately, this gentleman suddenly became ill and died, leaving his disabled wife and his dog grieving sorely for him.
Realizing that the wife was unable to walk Ruby, I offered to regularly call in to pick her up and walk her with my own little terrier. The first thing I noticed was the look in Ruby’s eyes—she looked incredibly sad and mournful and had lost her usual jaunty demeanour. I know it’s easy to put our perception of feelings on animals, but her behaviour had completely changed and she definitely seemed depressed or low. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that the family didn’t want the elderly lady to keep Ruby because they thought the dog was too much trouble.
The “trouble” was escaping and making her own way to the park along the well-trodden path that she had walked with her beloved guardian twice every day for over nine years. I did manage to catch her myself a couple of times and return her home safely, but I could tell that this was one very unsettled and unhappy little dog. On reflection, I think Ruby was affected not only by losing one of her beloved owners but also by the atmosphere in the home, where she was no longer welcome by everyone in the family.
I am happy to say that eventually she was taken into a new forever home by a kind neighbour, who cared for Ruby for the rest of her life, allowing her to regain the happiness she so deserved.
If you are looking after a bereaved pet, keep a good eye on them for any changes in the way they behave, for example:
As mentioned before, some of these could be due to the animal’s sensitivity to their guardian’s grief. In a multi-pet family, there will likely be some changes in behaviour as the hierarchy is re-established within the surviving animal group. You may see pets exhibiting greater freedom or being more relaxed if their relationship with the deceased pet was complex. However, when pets have been strongly bonded for any length of time it seems reasonable to consider that they may become distressed by the sudden disappearance of their friend.
The following is another story from my own experience. It goes back many years, when I looked after two beautiful cockatiels.
The cockatiel pair had strongly bonded with each other, and also with me. The male, who was called Sparky, suddenly became very ill at around the age of three, and despite intensive nursing and veterinary care he died. Primrose, his mate, wasn’t left as a single bird because by this time I’d taken on a few rescue budgies. But she definitely showed signs of missing Sparky. She would sit on my shoulder, hiding her head under my hair—something she had never done previously. After about a month I decided that I had to find her another mate, because she continued to pine. Happily, in time she accepted her new companion, and the pair bonded well.
Caring for a Bereaved Pet
Whilst it is natural for there to be a period of adjustment following the loss of a companion animal or guardian, if the bereaved pet’s behaviour changes suddenly and dramatically, or does not appear to settle down after a few days, they need to be checked by a vet. This is because an underlying medical problem may coincide with the death or, as can happen with strongly bonded equines such as donkeys, the loss itself can cause sudden and life-threatening illness.
I recall an incident in which a guardian asked me about their West Highland terrier, who had suddenly become very reluctant to go on his walks following the death of the guardian’s other little terrier. The lady assumed that her dog was mourning the loss of the other dog, and asked if there was anything she could do to help him overcome this. Having listened to everything she told me, I strongly recommended that she take her dog to the vet, because we couldn’t be sure that there wasn’t something medical going on that happened to coincide with her other dog’s death. A week or two later, I heard back from her and, sure enough, the vet had done a thorough check and discovered that the dog had developed arthritis, which was making it painful for him to walk. Once the dog was on medication, he was able to enjoy his walks again.
This story highlights the importance of always getting a pet checked when they begin to behave differently, rather than assuming it is due to grief or other upset.
Generally, it is a good idea to keep to the usual routine with bereaved pets, so that things remain as stable and calm as possible. Although extra care and attention can be beneficial, over-fussing may actually stress a pet, because they pick up on the subtle changes of energy and emotions in the home. In some situations, though, slight adjustments in the environment may help to lift the spirits of a depressed animal; for example, taking a dog on a different route for their walk or somewhere new. Caged pets may enjoy extra free-range time in secure circumstances, whilst extra play time or new toys may be appreciated by feline companions. With all pets, it’s a prime time to consider how their environment could be enriched, perhaps with extra choices of things to do, hidden treats to find, or new places for them to hide or shelter.
It is incredibly sad when a young animal loses a parent and struggles to cope, such as in the following story that a friend related to me about a litter of kittens who lost their mother to an accident.
A friend rang me to say something terrible had happened. Their young cat, which had given birth to three kittens, had been run over and had died. Her eight-year-old son, who adored the mother cat, was at school. She did not know what to say to him. I suggested that he needed to know that the cat had been run over on the road by a car and had died, although there was no need for him to see the mangled body, which was at the vet’s.
A day later, the lady rang me again and said that she had told her son and he was sad and grieving, but now there was another problem. The three kittens were going around the house calling for their mother, and she did not know what to do to settle them down.
I replied that I had seen a television programme in which someone who communicated with animals had said that we could communicate with animals via mind pictures. I suggested to my friend that she try to explain to the kittens why their mother was not there via mind pictures.
A day later, she rang me again to say that she had sat down and, taking each kitten on her lap, one at a time, had talked to them as well as using mind pictures to tell them that their mother was no longer with them. After this, the kittens settled down and no longer walked around crying out for their mother. This in turn helped her son. Being able to deal with both her son and the kittens in this way calmed everything for the family.
Preparing an Animal for Separation from Another Pet or Their Guardian
When the death of an animal in a bonded pair or group is anticipated, it may be possible to adjust their routine in advance, so that it doesn’t change quite so dramatically when the sick pet is no longer there. For example, if there is a bonded pair, you could feed the healthy animal on its own, and possibly exercise or play with each separately. This would need to be done very gradually and gently to avoid upsetting either pet, with particular care being taken to make sure the sick pet doesn’t become stressed.
It can be incredibly upsetting when someone with sole responsibility for a companion animal becomes terminally ill, or due to age or illness needs to go into long-term care without their pet. Planning ahead can make the transition for both the person and their animal easier and less traumatic. If they are able to arrange for their pet to be rehomed by someone they know and trust, the new guardian could gradually over time take on more and more of the pet’s care. This would allow the animal to adjust more easily to the new home and routine, whilst giving the guardian much-needed peace of mind that their beloved pet’s future is being secured.
Alternatively, there are organizations that may be able to help, such as the Cinnamon Trust, a national charity in the UK, supporting the elderly, the terminally ill, and their pets. Again, this needs forward planning, so early contact with the charity is vital.
Allowing Companion Animals to See the Body of Their Deceased Friend
Where possible it is considered helpful to allow surviving animals to see and sniff the body of the pet that has died. Some animals won’t take much notice, but there are accounts of others who spend time nudging, crying, sniffing, and walking around the remains of their companion. Although this can be distressing to witness, it is thought that it prevents surviving animals searching relentlessly for their deceased companions.
However, there are times when you may feel it wouldn’t help a pet to see the remains of the one who has died. As someone recounted to me about her two guinea pigs:
When Jasper, the male, died, I instinctively felt that it wouldn’t help Bella, his mate, to see his body, although normally I would do that. I think the fact that poor Jasper had been away from their enclosure a lot while he was under medical care meant that Bella had grown accustomed to being on her own. She didn’t seem too upset when Jasper didn’t return at all, and I was aware that, having been through some vet treatment and an operation, Jasper’s body would have smelt very strange to her. So I simply kept her to her routine, making sure she had plenty of attention and company. It wasn’t long before I found her a lovely new companion who, after a careful introduction, she took to very happily.
As always, it is a case of doing what you feel is best for your pet, listening to your instinct, and asking your vet for advice when necessary.
Safety Aspects
Animals that are pining are likely to act out of character and, therefore, may not respond as they normally would. For example, you may need to keep a cat in overnight for a few nights in case they go frantically searching the surrounding streets for their lost companion. Or, with a dog, check that their recall training remains effective before letting them off the lead, in case they suddenly bolt to look for their buddy who has just died. Also, be aware that a stressed animal can be uncharacteristically reactive and anxious, so this should be considered, especially when children or vulnerable people are handling them.
A Mare’s Grief
To conclude this chapter, here is a blog I wrote that touches on equine grief I witnessed during a session of Equine Facilitated Therapy:
Equine Facilitated Therapy (EFT) is described as an opportunity to learn more about yourself and how you communicate, with the horses reflecting how you interact with others, affect other people, and how others affect you. It all sounds good to me!
There was a nervous excitement in me as I turned up at the equine centre. Ever since I had heard about EFT, I’d wanted to experience it, so here I was—ready with an open heart and open mind.
I’ve always sensed a depth of feeling in equines—no wonder they can form such enduring bonds within their herds, but also with those who care for them. And I longed to get a bit closer in and to feel it for myself.
The weather that day was awful (following days of lovely sunshine) and not conducive to spending two hours outside in a field of horses. But there was no way I was going to be put off now that the EFT day was finally here.
The session started with a chat about how I was feeling, and what I hoped to gain from the session, and the obligatory health and safety check. I confessed that I’d forgotten to bring my steel-toed work boots, but my instructor told me that my wellies were just right. She explained that some of the horses are so big and heavy that if my foot was trodden on in steel-toed boots, the metal would be crushed into my foot. Mental note to self: keep feet away from hooves!
I explained that the thing I hoped to gain from the session was a moment of deep connection with a horse; perhaps a soul connection.
I was taken through some preparatory exercises to sense what was going on in me and to slow everything down inside. Having explained about how to approach each horse quietly and with respect for their personal space, and how to read subtle changes in body language, I was let loose into the field of horses. They were all rather intent on eating, earnestly pulling at the grass or piles of hay, so they were not concerned or interested in my tentative requests to make contact. But they didn’t mind me there, and I certainly sensed different emotions with the two I did approach.
The smallest horse was a young male. I felt incredibly emotional in his presence, overwhelmingly so. I found out later that he’d had a rough start in life. The other horse, a magnificent shire, gave me a totally different feeling—sort of quick and excited; he was altogether a more confident, mature horse. But from both, I got the sense that they were very happy to be living there in that special equine centre.
Eventually the rain and cold drove us inside to the stalls. Housed in here were two of the instructor’s own beautiful mares. I had been drawn to them earlier, but was respectful of their need for space and privacy, as they each had a note to say they had only recently arrived at the centre and were still settling in. However, the instructor said that it was fine to greet them, as the signs were there to ensure they weren’t overwhelmed by attention from visitors.
So I quietly approached one of the mares, then it all changed. I gazed softly at the black shire mare in front of me. I let her sniff my hand and gently touched her neck when I felt she was happy for me to do that. Her long, thick fringe almost covered her eyes, but I could see the gentle spirit that shone through. My instructor explained that she had been through a very difficult few months, having been grief-stricken with the sudden death of her two-month-old foal. I felt an incredible tenderness and gently stroked her.
“You can go in with her if you want,” I was told. Without hesitation, I entered her stall; there we were—one small human and one beautiful and impressively huge shire mare, together in a few moments of quiet understanding and exchange. She was incredibly sturdy yet gentle—what a warm, loving spirit. A lump formed in my throat—her grief was palpable. I sent her healing thoughts, holding my hands on her. A little later I quietly withdrew, knowing that something had passed between us.
As I walked away afterwards, I reflected on her grief, and on the depth of feelings that these beautiful “other people” have—often not recognized in our world. But today it was recognized, respected, and revered. What an honour.