Do Pets Grieve?

I’m often asked a simple question that carries a lot of weight: Do pets grieve?

Yes. They do.

I don’t hesitate when I answer that anymore. After decades of living with animals, writing about them, and listening to the stories of families who love them, I am convinced that what we witness when a companion animal dies is grief. It may not look identical to human grief, but it is real, observable, and deeply felt.

Animals form bonds. Strong ones. Dogs who grow up together don’t simply share space; they share routines, scents, sounds, sleeping spots, and social hierarchies. Cats who pretend indifference often groom one another when no one is looking. Companion animals build their lives around one another — and around us.

When one of those bonds is broken, behavior changes. Some pets search the house. Some sit by doors or windows. Some refuse food. Others become clingy, anxious, or withdrawn. I have heard countless stories of surviving pets sleeping in their companion’s favorite spot, carrying around a toy that belonged to them, or pacing at the time of day they used to take walks together.

I have seen many examples of this over the years — in reader letters, in conversations with pet families, and in homes where the absence of one animal changes the emotional tone of the entire household.

And I witnessed it in a way that left no doubt in my own mind when I lived with my dogs, Brinkley and Maggie.

They were different personalities but deeply connected. One night, Brinkley began having violent seizures. He had been diagnosed with epilepsy, but this episode was sudden and frightening. He was in his open kennel — the place he loved most to sleep — and he was stiff and thrashing. We couldn’t safely remove him from the kennel to get him to the emergency clinic.

So we carried the entire kennel — Brinkley inside — out to the car and drove him to the vet that way. At the clinic, the staff had to dismantle the kennel to reach him and begin treatment. Brinkley was admitted overnight.

We drove home with the empty kennel panels in the back of the car. When we returned, we put the kennel pieces back in Brinkley’s usual spot in the house, but we didn’t reassemble it right away. It just sat there — collapsed, incomplete.

And that’s when Maggie began to howl.

Not bark. Not whine. Howl.

It was a sound I had never heard from her before — a long, distressed, almost panicked cry that rose into something that sounded like screaming. It was immediate. It was visceral. It was heartbreaking.

We moved quickly to reassemble the kennel. As soon as it was upright again — back in its familiar form — Maggie stopped. Instantly.

Did she think Brinkley had died? I can’t say that with certainty. But she knew something had happened. The physical structure that represented his presence had been broken down and removed. To her, that likely signaled absence in the most profound way.

Her response wasn’t mild curiosity. It was distress. It was grief.

When Brinkley eventually passed away, Maggie changed again — quieter, slower, more watchful. She spent time in his spots. She slept more. She leaned into us more often. I knew how heartbroken she was to lose his companionship.

Grief in animals is not philosophical. They are not likely contemplating mortality. But they are experiencing a loss of presence, a loss of routine, a loss of relationship. Stress hormones shift. Attachment behaviors change. The world feels different.

And, let’s face it, animals are exquisitely sensitive to change. When a household loses a beloved animal, the humans are grieving too. Our voices sound different. Our routines change. We may move more slowly, cry more often, or spend time handling belongings that carry emotional meaning. Pets are highly attuned to these signals. Sometimes, what we interpret as their grief is also their response to our sadness — or a combination of both.

So what helps?

Routine. Stability. Gentle reassurance. Extra walks. Quiet companionship. Sometimes bringing the surviving pet to see their companion after death can help them process the absence, though that is a personal decision. Monitoring appetite and health is important because stress can manifest physically.

Most importantly, time. Grieving pets eventually regain interest in life, form new bonds, and settle into a reshaped household. Love does not disappear. It reorganizes.

So yes, pets grieve.

If you have witnessed it, you already know this to be true.

Originally appeared on CathyRosenthal.com | Do Pets Grieve?

Cathy M. Rosenthal is a seasoned animal advocate, author, and syndicated pet columnist with over 35 years of experience in the animal welfare field. To learn more, visit CathyRosenthal.com, or connect directly through Spay Neuter Network by sending your pet questions to her at Cathy@spayneuternet.org.