Navigating Disenfranchised Grief and Pet Loss: A Story About Girlie

Girlie was my first pet as an adult—though I often tell people she adopted me more than I adopted her.

During my undergrad years at Texas Tech, I spent a weekend visiting my aunt and uncle, whose home has always been a refuge for strays. One night after studying, I reached into my backpack to put my textbook away and found a pair of green eyes staring back at me. There was this tiny, gold-and-gray calico - just as surprised to see my green eyes as I was to see hers. She let out a near-silent mew, laid her head back down, and I thought, "Well, that's that, you're coming home with me."

On the hour-and-a-half drive back, a torrential thunderstorm hit. Visibility dropped to zero, and the rain hammered the car like a barrage. We pulled over and weathered the storm together. For the next seventeen years, we weathered every storm that came our way.

When Girlie was about fourteen, she was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. Managing chronic illness meant constant vet visits, fluctuating medication, and significant expenses. I often felt a heavy mix of guilt, hope, and shame, wishing she could tell me if I was making the right choices.

Well-meaning family and friends would say things like, "Just put her down," "She's just a cat," or "Stop wasting money." At times, exhausted and stressed, I wondered the same things. My vet and I constantly navigated the delicate balance of her quality of life—cycles where medication worked for a while before failing. I didn't want to prolong her suffering for my own benefit, but I also refused to choose euthanasia simply to escape the diarrhetic messes and expense.

Eventually, the medication stopped working entirely. She could no longer groom herself or keep her weight on. When it was time, I was grateful to find a compassionate vet who came to the house. Girlie rested comfortably in her favorite bed, barely stirring as she slipped away. I was right beside her in the end—our final storm together.

Disenfranchised Grief

As Dr. Kenneth J. Doka (2025) notes in his book, Disenfranchised Grief, half of the nearly two-thirds of US families who have a pet or companion animal consider that animal to be part of the family.

Yet, the grief of losing a pet is rarely recognized by society. There are no bereavement days or memorials; instead, we are often told to just get another pet and move on.

It is never that simple. Pets and service animals are our family, our independence, our emotional support, and sometimes a living link to loved ones we've lost.

Finding Support

If you are struggling with the death of a pet, please know you are not alone.

In memory of Girlie, I have started a Pet Loss Support & Psychoeducational Group for adults in Texas. This weekly online group offers a compassionate, structured space to honor your loss, navigate your grief, and process how heartbreak impacts your life and relationships.

Whether you are coping with a recent loss, anticipating an end-of-life decision, or carrying long-standing grief, you don't have to carry it in isolation.

AI Use Disclosure

Artificial Intelligence (AI) tools, specifically Gemini, was used for editing only, to improve clarity and readability.