Home is Wherever I’m With You: Pet Loss, Grief, and Finding Hope
And one day, I just didn’t feel as sad anymore. The clouds began to part. I could feel my own heartbeat. I could feel my boy, living life, right beside me.
Content Warning: This article discusses pet loss in-depth and also mentions sucicide.
Weezy’s story
On December 7, 2022, I said goodbye to my beloved soul animal, Weezy at 10:34pm. It was one of the hardest days of my life. I cannot think back on it without crying. Weezy was, and will always be, my soulmate.
I buy into the idea that soulmates can be much more than romantic partners. Soulmates can be friends, family members, or beloved pets. Weezy was mine.
I adopted Weezy from my local Humane Society back in 2013. He caught my eye right away and from that moment on, I knew we were meant to be. My family wanted me to look at other cats, but my mind was already made up. I wanted to take the chance on a pretty kitty who had been declawed and surrendered by his previous owners. I wanted to show him a life of love.
And so we began our journey together. We started our life. We moved to New Orleans for a few years. Weezy loved hanging out on our balcony. We moved home, where he loved hanging out on the new balcony. We lounged and cuddled and I took thousands of pictures of him.
Weezy was with me through every life change. He was with me through moving, through break ups, through life altering mistakes, and through getting sober. His love for me never faltered, never changed.
I did my best. We fell on hard times for a while. I had trouble feeding him and had to buy the cheapest cat food I could find at the convenience store around the block from my house. One time I fed him food that he was allergic to that made him violently ill. I took care of him the best I could.
When Weezy was around 14, I took him in for a senior wellness visit. I was told he had gingivitis and that it would cost around $1000 to clean his teeth. I didn’t have that kind of money and I was afraid of putting him under anesthesia because of his advanced age.
It was around the time that I moved back in with my family that Weezy’s health started to decline. I took him to a new vet, who broke me two pieces of news:
1.) They had found a mass in Weezy’s bladder
2.) Weezy was suffering from advanced renal failure.
The doctor also pointed out that he had been suffering from the renal failure for some time and it was noted in his previous veterinary records, but no one had ever told me.
More tests were done and masses were found on his kidneys. He was given just weeks to live. So I made him a bucket list.
We held a New Orleans-style second line parade for Weezy at the local park, where I used to take him to go watch the ducks. Sitting in his decorated stroller, wearing his Mardi Gras bow tie, Weezy sat amongst family and friends while taking in the scenery.
The morning of December 7th came and went like any other morning. Weezy was sitting over the air vent, trying to keep himself warm, as he was down to just 5 lbs from a once sizable 18lbs. I said goodbye and left and went to work. I came home to a catastrophic situation. I made the decision. It was time.
Peaceful death
The etymology of the word “euthanasia” means “easy death” in Greek. It took me a long time to come to terms with the decision I made to euthanize my dear soulmate, but, as I said, something catastrophic had occurred.
The most common emotion people feel during, and after, euthanasia is guilt. Why?
A little over a year out from the death of Weezy, I can firmly say that euthanizing was a gift to him.
Pet loss and grief
Perhaps the most disenfranchised grief out there is pet loss grief. Society does not always understand pet loss and grief and there is also stigma surrounding it. Sky News reports that in a recent survey, 85% of pet guardians report loss and grief symptoms comparable to loss of family members.
I remember turning inward with my grief. I wanted to scream from the rooftops but I felt like I had to keep it a secret because others wouldn’t understand. I cried myself to sleep every night. I contemplated suicide. I felt so much guilt for how it ended and for feeling like I didn’t take good enough care of Weezy when he passed. I was ashamed of myself and beside myself with grief.
Getting help
I needed help. Professional help. I went to two separate grief counselors, neither of whom worked out. Then, I found a private support group. I also began to read. A lot about pet grief and loss in particular. I began to do the work. And one day, I just didn’t feel as sad anymore. The clouds began to part. I could feel my own heartbeat. I could feel my boy, living life, right beside me.
Grief suddenly start shifting. It’s definitely still present, but it’s different now. Time hasn’t healed my wound and I don’t think it ever will. But grief is fluid. It can change and shift and roll.
Moving Forward
My grief counselor always says “We don’t get over it, we get through it.” I try, every day, to get through Weezy’s death. Some days are harder than others. Sometimes it’s hard to find direct support for the extent of my grief.
Something I have in my home that is helpful for me is a memorial space for Weezy. It has a photo of him, his ashes, his collars, and some clippings of his fur. I keep his clay paw print, along with a canvas photo of him, by my bedside so I can feel closer to him.
Life after death
Pet loss can feel like, or worse than, losing a family member. Many of us have special bonds with our pets that will surpass the understanding of most individuals. If you are grieving the loss of a pet and don’t know where to start, look for pet loss support groups in your area. Can’t find any? Look for groups that operate nationally.
If you or a loved one are struggling thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please dial or text 988 for crisis resources.
There is light at the end of the tunnel after the loss of a beloved pet. Find your light and follow it.
