He Was My Heart Pet
by Lara Stewart-Panko
Heart pet: This term denotes an animal who is a human’s soulmate, and my cat, Twix, and I were indeed that for each other. I wasn’t familiar with the term until Colleen Rolland used it as she supported me through the profound grief I experienced as the result of Twix’s death. Colleen is a pet loss and grief specialist, and the president of the Association for Pet Loss and Bereavement. I found her when I desperately Googled “pet grief support.”
When animal people have a pet die, it is akin to the death of another human.
Before Twix, I had experienced the loss of several pets with whom I was deeply bonded. But with him, it was altogether different. In fact, excepting some aspects of the grief I experienced when my father died, the depth and pain I felt approaching Twix’s death and the period afterward took me into territory I’d never been in before and have not been in since with subsequent deaths of both people and animals close to me. There were feelings I had no language for. Colleen met me in this profound space, bearing witness with compassion, total acceptance, and great understanding. She reflected my story back to me and suggested tools to help me move with my grief in ways that brought much peace and integration. She ensured I wasn’t alone in the abyss.
Recently I caught up with Colleen, and she granted me an interview to share her wisdom about pet loss. In response to the question, “What do you wish everyone knew?” she readily replied, “Help is available!” The field of bereavement in relation to companion animals is in its childhood, and too many folks tragically don’t realize support is out there. In addition to one-on-one work that can be done with a pet loss grief specialist or a mental health practitioner, people can process their experiences through in-person and online support groups, including those offered by the Association for Pet Loss and Bereavement.
Crucially, the association also offers professional-specific support for veterinarians, vet techs, and others in the field who experience grief, trauma, and vicarious trauma on a regular basis. Further, akin to end-of-life doulas who can attend those opting for MAiD, some pet loss grief specialists will accompany folks when a pet is receiving euthanasia or attend the animal as a surrogate for the pet parent if the person is too overwhelmed to be physically present at the time of death.
I felt approaching Twix’s death and the period afterward took me into territory I’d never been in before…
Colleen spoke to the reality that many people experiencing the loss of a pet turn inward, as their grief is often disenfranchised and not validated by those close to them. Further impacting the broader social misgivings about pet loss is the divide of “animal people” and “nonanimal people.” Meaning, some of us have a strong affinity for animals, and some of us don’t. Colleen was clear: “When animal people have a pet die, it is akin to the death of another human.” If an “animal person” has a pet die, the “nonanimal” people in their life will be hard-pressed to be genuinely empathetic. For end-of-life doulas, this is an important awareness to carry into our work. If you’re not an “animal person” but some clients are, you’ll need to be that much more conscious about taking their pet into account as they express their concerns and make their plans about their end of life and death. This area of consideration is that much greater if the animal is essentially the person’s only close relationship.
I felt approaching Twix’s death and the period afterward took me into territory I’d never been in before…
Colleen spoke to the reality that many people experiencing the loss of a pet turn inward, as their grief is often disenfranchised and not validated by those close to them. Further impacting the broader social misgivings about pet loss is the divide of “animal people” and “nonanimal people.” Meaning, some of us have a strong affinity for animals, and some of us don’t. Colleen was clear: “When animal people have a pet die, it is akin to the death of another human.” If an “animal person” has a pet die, the “nonanimal” people in their life will be hard-pressed to be genuinely empathetic. For end-of-life doulas, this is an important awareness to carry into our work. If you’re not an “animal person” but some clients are, you’ll need to be that much more conscious about taking their pet into account as they express their concerns and make their plans about their end of life and death. This area of consideration is that much greater if the animal is essentially the person’s only close relationship.
When I asked Colleen about her personal experiences of grief in relation to the deaths of her own pets, she remarked, “I often say to colleagues that it’d be really nice if we got a pass on the pain, given our professional expertise. But we don’t. It never ceases to surprise me how deeply I can feel emotions. In fact, I think that’s why I’ve turned to this occupation, because I can understand what people are going through. I know those feelings intimately and I know what I would want to hear when I’m in that state.”
Colleen went on to share, “Two and half years ago I lost my golden retriever, Lily, to cancer. I decided to take her to a hospice vet. I remember sitting there in shock and hearing the vet say the same words to me that I would say to clients, and I was so grateful because everything I knew as a professional had gone out of my head, and I needed badly to hear the words she was speaking to me. She spoke about being empowered to help Lily through the last stages of her life, and I’ll never forget that.” Colleen wisely reflected, “And sometimes, it’s hard for us to take our own counsel, like the painter’s house that gets painted last.”
In returning to a more universal experience of pet loss, Colleen spoke about the common experience of guilt that people can feel. “Often, the guilt is anger turned inward. However, the guilt could be merited or unmerited. What I mean by merited guilt is, a pet owner makes an error or poor judgment that results in the death of the animal. Unmerited guilt is when a pet parent has exercised due diligence but an illness or injury causes the death of the animal. A person could still question, ‘Did I take them to the vet enough? Did I miss signs? Should I have, could I have, what if I…?” Colleen emphasized that even with merited guilt, it will be important for people to come to recognize that what happened was an accident, that they didn’t set out to purposefully harm their pet. In speaking to the anger that can arise with the death of a pet, Colleen shared that people often direct it to the vet involved in the animal’s care, the same way we might direct it to a physician involved with a human who dies.
In February of 2023, my other cat, Neechee, began experiencing heart failure, and the vet recommended euthanasia within a few days. Before Twix, I’d had other cats euthanized at home, and I wanted this for Neeche. (Twix died during the height of the pandemic, so it wasn’t an option for him and he was euthanized at the animal hospital.) My vet didn’t offer home euthanasia, and referrals led me to vets who were not available. However, Colleen connected me with Katherine MacKenzie, a vet whose entire practice is now hospice and euthanasia care. While Katherine was also too booked to accommodate Neechee’s euthanasia in the timeframe required (she died peacefully in our regular vet’s hospital), Katherine still made a meaningful impact during that difficult time, providing such warmth and kindness just through her texts.
After working in emergency medicine and general practice, Katherine wanted to shift gears and focus exclusively on making things better at the end of animals’ lives. She now gifts her community with assistance in decision-making at end of life and provides in-home euthanasia services. Contact is typically made a day to a week before the death, though some clients connect when their animal receives a terminal diagnosis with several months yet to live. In contrast with so many tragic experiences in emergency medicine, Katherine finds reward in supporting families as they navigate less urgent deaths, allowing them to gather in their home, engage in ritual if they desire, and cultivate peace through various means. As Katherine articulates, “It just provides me with some satisfaction that I’m helping make a horrible situation just a little bit better.” She warmly shared stories of dogs enjoying special treats as their last meal, such as a steak dinner with a glass of beer and a chocolate cupcake for dessert. With equal honouring, Katherine spoke of simple, quiet goodbyes, noting that whatever is best for that family is the aim.
When I asked Colleen about her personal experiences of grief in relation to the deaths of her own pets, she remarked, “I often say to colleagues that it’d be really nice if we got a pass on the pain, given our professional expertise. But we don’t. It never ceases to surprise me how deeply I can feel emotions. In fact, I think that’s why I’ve turned to this occupation, because I can understand what people are going through. I know those feelings intimately and I know what I would want to hear when I’m in that state.”
Colleen went on to share, “Two and half years ago I lost my golden retriever, Lily, to cancer. I decided to take her to a hospice vet. I remember sitting there in shock and hearing the vet say the same words to me that I would say to clients, and I was so grateful because everything I knew as a professional had gone out of my head, and I needed badly to hear the words she was speaking to me. She spoke about being empowered to help Lily through the last stages of her life, and I’ll never forget that.” Colleen wisely reflected, “And sometimes, it’s hard for us to take our own counsel, like the painter’s house that gets painted last.”
In returning to a more universal experience of pet loss, Colleen spoke about the common experience of guilt that people can feel. “Often, the guilt is anger turned inward. However, the guilt could be merited or unmerited. What I mean by merited guilt is, a pet owner makes an error or poor judgment that results in the death of the animal. Unmerited guilt is when a pet parent has exercised due diligence but an illness or injury causes the death of the animal. A person could still question, ‘Did I take them to the vet enough? Did I miss signs? Should I have, could I have, what if I…?” Colleen emphasized that even with merited guilt, it will be important for people to come to recognize that what happened was an accident, that they didn’t set out to purposefully harm their pet. In speaking to the anger that can arise with the death of a pet, Colleen shared that people often direct it to the vet involved in the animal’s care, the same way we might direct it to a physician involved with a human who dies.
In February of 2023, my other cat, Neechee, began experiencing heart failure, and the vet recommended euthanasia within a few days. Before Twix, I’d had other cats euthanized at home, and I wanted this for Neeche. (Twix died during the height of the pandemic, so it wasn’t an option for him and he was euthanized at the animal hospital.) My vet didn’t offer home euthanasia, and referrals led me to vets who were not available. However, Colleen connected me with Katherine MacKenzie, a vet whose entire practice is now hospice and euthanasia care. While Katherine was also too booked to accommodate Neechee’s euthanasia in the timeframe required (she died peacefully in our regular vet’s hospital), Katherine still made a meaningful impact during that difficult time, providing such warmth and kindness just through her texts.
After working in emergency medicine and general practice, Katherine wanted to shift gears and focus exclusively on making things better at the end of animals’ lives. She now gifts her community with assistance in decision-making at end of life and provides in-home euthanasia services. Contact is typically made a day to a week before the death, though some clients connect when their animal receives a terminal diagnosis with several months yet to live. In contrast with so many tragic experiences in emergency medicine, Katherine finds reward in supporting families as they navigate less urgent deaths, allowing them to gather in their home, engage in ritual if they desire, and cultivate peace through various means. As Katherine articulates, “It just provides me with some satisfaction that I’m helping make a horrible situation just a little bit better.” She warmly shared stories of dogs enjoying special treats as their last meal, such as a steak dinner with a glass of beer and a chocolate cupcake for dessert. With equal honouring, Katherine spoke of simple, quiet goodbyes, noting that whatever is best for that family is the aim.
Similar to what many end-of-life doulas provide, Katherine educates people about what to expect during the end-of-life and dying process. (Animals can have a rally, the same way humans can.) She listens carefully to a family’s fears, wishes, and needs, and provides information and options to help foster empowerment and well-being. Using a trauma-informed lens, Katherine allows clients to connect with her via text, phone, email, or in person—whatever creates the most safety and ease for those involved.
Another parallel to human death is the range of options available for postdeath care. While cremation is a common choice, home burial may be an option. Yet home burial is not allowed in every area, and Katherine directs families to confirm with their municipality, as bylaws and legislation vary region to region in regards to home burial of a pet. Other options include a pet cemetery, and aquamation is also available in some areas.
Just as folks often require education around in-home deaths of people and that there’s no rush to contact professionals if the death was anticipated—that we can take time to just be with a loved one or engage in ceremony—pet parents often need this education too. Katherine has found that pet parents often benefit from learning that they can take as much or as little time with their animal after the death as they desire. Akin to how we might wash a person’s body after death, pet owners may choose to brush their loved one after they’ve transitioned. She’s witnessed pets being sent on their journey of burial or cremation with toys, letters, flowers. While crematoriums used to cremate pets with toys, blankets, and pet beds, they now often limit personal items to organic items only, such as flowers and paper, including letters and photos.
When I asked Katherine about boundaries and self-care as a professional working in the end-of-life field, she shared what most helping professionals report: It’s hard to set and maintain boundaries when the needs are so great. She credits a caring partner and great colleagues with helping her take time to fill her own cup, and while she’s too modest to mention it, I’m confident she returns the favour.
Another helpful element Katherine shared was her skillful self-disclosure with clients, what’s known in the therapy world as “use of self.” She’ll share her family’s experience of the cancer diagnosis of their dog—Katherine’s Heart Pet—and the emotional roller coaster they rode in the two years after diagnosis until his peaceful death. She said, “I do have a lot of people ask me, ‘How do you do this every day? How do you end lives every day? How do you get out of bed?’ I bring it back to, ‘I’ve been in your shoes, and I will be in your shoes again. Yes, they’re different shoes, but they’re similar. I’ve had to say goodbye to my pets. I’ve had to make the decision of when is the right time.’ I hope people realize my heart is breaking with theirs.” Katherine articulates that well-timed euthanasia is a gift we can give our pets, and she sees her work not so much as taking lives, but rather as relieving suffering.
With the estimated number of pet dogs in the United States between 83.7 and 88.9 million in 2020, and the estimate of cats ranging from 60.2 and 61.9 million, many, many families will be navigating the deaths of loved ones each year. Animal lovers need not grieve in isolation, nor wonder why the loss of a pet can be on par with the loss of a human companion. Skilled professionals are available for support, and they can often ensure that animals and their people experience a peaceful transition that honours the power, beauty, and deep intimacy of sharing love and life together.
Author Bio:
Author Bio:
INELDA Educator Lara Stewart-Panko is passionate about individual, family, and community issues. She feels privileged to be doing work that is so intimate, sacred, and profound. Her greatest joy is connecting with others to bring that much more peace and well-being into the world.