“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” —Anatole France

Would you be surprised to know that it’s not unusual for people to seek therapy after the death of a beloved pet? While grief over animals was once minimized—after all, they were “just animals”—our understanding has evolved. Today, more and more people recognize that our relationships with animals can be among the most soulful, consistent, and emotionally resonant connections of our lives. Losing them can be devastating.

So why do we become so deeply attached to our pets? If you’ve ever loved one, this question may seem silly—you know why in your gut. But articulating the roots of this bond can help us make sense of why its loss can leave such a profound mark.

For many people, a relationship with an animal is the first experience of true emotional attunement.

Traditionally, emotional attunement refers to our ability to be deeply present with others: to perceive, interpret, and respond to their emotional states in a way that feels validating and safe. As children, we rely on our caregivers to attune to us. This connection helps regulate our nervous systems and builds the foundation for secure attachment. But when our caregivers are distracted, emotionally unavailable, or carrying unhealed trauma of their own, we may not receive the kind of acceptance and connection we so desperately need.

Enter animals.

I remember my childhood dog with such blinding clarity I can still feel his soft ears in my hands as if it was yesterday. He was a black and white English Pointer with a weakness for ham sandwiches, and the smell of the top of his warm head had the power to instantly soothe me. And I needed soothing. Between my silent, angry father, my overwhelmed mother, and the constant upheaval of moving (and the bullying that followed), I was an anxious, lonely kid.

That dog gave me something no human could at the time: sensitive, nonjudgmental companionship. In clinical terms, he became an attachment object—someone (or something) to whom we form an emotional bond for comfort, security, and regulation of affect. In human terms, he saved my life.

The loss of that dog, and another soul dog I had as an adult (a black and white Harlequin Great Dane named Juno, who looked like a version of my childhood dog on steroids, a choice which was unconscious but not accidental) brought me to my knees. These weren’t just the loss of pets, but the loss of places where I felt safe, accepted, and loved. 

Despite often being minimized, human relationships to animals have been honored throughout the ages. In ancient times, evidence from archeological sites like Bonn-Oberkassel in Germany over 14,000 years ago show evidence of dogs being buried alongside humans, as do sites in Jericho (modern day Palestine). During the Roman Empire, between the 1st and 3rd centuries, Romans gave pets epitaphs similar to those of humans. Examples include that of Margarita the Dog “I am in tears while carrying you to your last resting place as much as I rejoiced when bringing you home in my own hands 15 years ago” as well as for a dog named Myia, “You were a sweet little soul and a comfort to me in sorrow.” For these ancient people, just as for people today, the loss of an attachment object caused true grieving. 

So how can therapy help?

So how can therapy help? Working with a therapist can allow us to create space to feel the magnitude of our loss. A therapist can become a temporary attachment object, creating a nonjudgemental and safe environment where we can once again experience emotional attunement. With them, we might create personal grief rituals to honor our love and loss of a pet, and do the work that, while painful, is also natural, and if done properly, has a beginning a middle and an end. They can help us understand ourselves and our needs, and think about ways we can continue to get those needs met. 

If you’re struggling after the death of a pet and can’t seem to “get over it,” that’s not a sign of weakness—it’s a reflection of how meaningful that bond truly was. You’re not being silly or dramatic. You’re grieving. Healing is possible. For some, that process can unfold naturally over time. For others, it may help to have a compassionate guide. There is no shame in seeking support for a heartbreak that’s both real and profound. After all, love is love—and so is grief.

Written by Erica Leibrandt, LCPC, RYT

The loss of that dog, and another soul dog I had as an adult (a black and white Harlequin Great Dane named Juno, who looked like a version of my childhood dog on steroids, a choice which was unconscious but not accidental) brought me to my knees. These weren’t just the loss of pets, but the loss of places where I felt safe, accepted, and loved. 

Despite often being minimized, human relationships to animals have been honored throughout the ages. In ancient times, evidence from archeological sites like Bonn-Oberkassel in Germany over 14,000 years ago show evidence of dogs being buried alongside humans, as do sites in Jericho (modern day Palestine). During the Roman Empire, between the 1st and 3rd centuries, Romans gave pets epitaphs similar to those of humans. Examples include that of Margarita the Dog “I am in tears while carrying you to your last resting place as much as I rejoiced when bringing you home in my own hands 15 years ago” as well as for a dog named Myia, “You were a sweet little soul and a comfort to me in sorrow.” For these ancient people, just as for people today, the loss of an attachment object caused true grieving.

So how can therapy help?

So how can therapy help? Working with a therapist can allow us to create space to feel the magnitude of our loss. A therapist can become a temporary attachment object, creating a nonjudgemental and safe environment where we can once again experience emotional attunement. With them, we might create personal grief rituals to honor our love and loss of a pet, and do the work that, while painful, is also natural, and if done properly, has a beginning a middle and an end. They can help us understand ourselves and our needs, and think about ways we can continue to get those needs met.

If you’re struggling after the death of a pet and can’t seem to “get over it,” that’s not a sign of weakness—it’s a reflection of how meaningful that bond truly was. You’re not being silly or dramatic. You’re grieving. Healing is possible. For some, that process can unfold naturally over time. For others, it may help to have a compassionate guide. There is no shame in seeking support for a heartbreak that’s both real and profound. After all, love is love—and so is grief.

Written by Erica Leibrandt, LCPC, RYT