Dear Animal Parent,

When I lost my beloved dog Tickles in the emergency room late at night after discovering a spleen tumor that was previously undetected, my world was turned upside down, just like so many of us who carry profound heartache after making the impossible decision to say goodbye. This is an utterly painful and life changing event. Personally, I will never be the same.

Whether it's the shock of an unexpected emergency, the agony of preparing to let go at home, or the challenging process of watching your beloved animal age or battle illness, the loss of an animal companion (best friend, family member, child, and soulmate) leaves us with an aching heart like no other. Please know that mine is with you in solidarity, compassion, and huge empathy. 

The days and months that followed Tickles’s passing were some of the hardest I’ve ever faced. As I navigated shock, overwhelm, and sadness, I looked for help on social media and ordered from a slim number of available books about animal loss. That’s when it became evident that there’s a real lack of support for people experiencing this kind of grief.

Seeking solace in writing, I journaled daily, spoke with social workers on free crisis hotlines, and joined a grief group in order to make sense of my emotions. But it wasn’t enough, nor was it convenient and consistent. I needed on-going, solid support to walk through the difficult journey of being separated from Tickles for the first time in 15 years.

As I tried to cope, the quiet park where Tickles and I had walked daily, became my refuge. I’d often pet my neighbor’s dogs there, and one day an adorable rescue named Bear and his dad Jordon joined me on the grass. Extending kindness, Jordon empathized about Tickles, and let me know that his sister would be saying goodbye to her 21 year-old cat that afternoon.

Walking away from that conversation, I wished there was a way to offer a solid resource for help. A place I could refer her to. A link to send. I’d been where she was about to find herself, and it would’ve been the right thing to do.

Continuing down the river path I now silently call Tickles Way, it felt like my angel was nudging me to do something for others in their grief. What if I could help a sister in her time of need? And a sister of a sister? A bother, a son, a friend, and so on?

For the next year, I worked with a trauma therapist to understand the natural yet painful process of facing animal loss, compiled worth-while facts, and used my reservoir of healing tools, as unbearable sadness passed through me––without pushing it away. My bed and desk piled up with notes, journals, and information as I educated myself on healing, and kept going with the idea of helping others.

Sometimes my grief is a heavy wave with the force of the sea, and other times, a smile under salty tears from a memory that brings immense appreciation of the time Tickles and I shared. She taught me how to love. She taught me how to be loved. She was my greatest teacher.

A light in the dark––pals is her creation.

If you feel there’s help for you here, I invite you to become a pal, explore our healing guides, get free resources, listen to our forthcoming podcast, and join our community.

You can receive help and when you feel ready, pay it forward to someone else in need. You are not alone. We can learn and grow together. By sharing our stories, we acknowledge and normalize the pain of losing our beloved animals.

May you find comfort and understanding during this difficult time. It’s my feeling that your animal most likely guided you here with so much love for the love you gave,

Gratefully,

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