The grief no one prepares you for

She didn't expect the supermarket to break her.

It was the pet food aisle. The familiar brand. The one she bought every Thursday without thinking. Her hand reached out automatically, then stopped halfway.

There was no one waiting at home anymore.

Her chest tightened. That familiar knot pulled hard. She stood there, staring at rows of tins, feeling foolish for wanting to cry in public over "just a pet".

Love Your Pet Day arrived a week later. Social media filled with photos of happy pets. She closed the app.

If you're reading this with that same tight feeling in your chest, you're not weak. This is for you if your pet's death has left a bigger mark than you expected, and you've been told you should be over it by now.

When your loss doesn't count

There's an unspoken hierarchy of grief.

Some losses get time off work, sympathy cards, and patient friends. Others get brushed past with phrases meant to make everyone more comfortable.

Pet loss often falls into that second category.

"You can always get another one." "At least it wasn't a person." These words may mean well, but they land like dismissals when what you've lost feels anything but small.

What's often missed is how deeply your pet was woven into your life. The routines shaped around feeding and walking. The quiet presence that filled the house. The way they stayed close when you were struggling, without needing explanations.

For many people, a pet isn't an addition to life. They are a source of safety, steadiness, and unconditional companionship.

Why this grief feels invisible

One of the hardest parts of pet loss grief is how invisible it can feel.

Because you sense others won't understand, you downplay it. You show up to work. You reply to messages. You tell people you're fine.

Inside, though, everything feels harder.

Emails that used to take ten minutes now take an hour. You read the same paragraph repeatedly and still don't take it in. Evenings stretch on uncomfortably long. Mornings feel strangely empty.

There can also be guilt. Why am I still this upset? Why can't I just get over it?

Nothing is wrong with you. Your grief fits the bond you had.

This kind of disenfranchised grief (grief that isn't socially recognised) can be devastating. Not only are you grieving, you're grieving without permission to grieve openly.

When you can't talk about your loss, the grief gets stuck. It sits in your chest. It interrupts your sleep. It makes concentrating at work feel impossible, but you can't explain why because "it's just a pet".

Except it's not.

What people don't understand about the bond

For some people, their pet is their lifeline.

If you live alone, your pet might be the only consistent presence in your life. The only one who knows your routines, your moods, your quietest moments.

If you've been through trauma or loss before, your pet might have been the safest relationship you had. The one that didn't judge, didn't leave, didn't ask you to explain yourself.

If you've struggled with loneliness, your pet gave you a reason to get up. Someone to care for. A structure to your days.

That attachment isn't weakness. It's love. And love doesn't follow a hierarchy.

When I worked with a client who'd lost her cat after nineteen years, she described it perfectly: "People kept saying I could get another one, as if I'd just lost a lamp. But Milo knew me better than most humans did. He'd been through my divorce, my mother's death, three house moves. He was there when no one else was."

Her grief wasn't about replacing a pet. It was about losing a witness to her life.

Why Love Your Pet Day can make things harder

Days like Love Your Pet Day are meant to celebrate connection. When your pet has died, they can instead shine a light on what's missing.

You might feel torn between wanting to honour your pet and wanting to avoid the reminders altogether. You might even feel resentful of a day that brings other people joy.

That doesn't make you ungrateful or bitter. It makes you human.

Grief doesn't follow the calendar. It arrives in waves, often when you least expect it.

What genuinely helps

There's no shortcut through grief. Anyone promising one is likely asking you to bypass what actually needs care.

Here's what does help:

Allow the pain to exist. When you tell yourself you shouldn't feel this bad, you add another layer of distress. Notice where the grief sits (tight chest, lump in throat) and stay with it for a few moments.

Give yourself permission. If you need to take a day off work, take it. Your grief doesn't need to justify itself.

Create a small ritual. Plant something, make a photo album, or write a letter to your pet. Rituals give grief somewhere to go.

Talk to people who understand. Find your people, the ones who won't minimise what you're feeling. You don't need lots of people. You need one place where you can be honest.

Be gentle with triggers. If walking past the park where you used to go together is too painful right now, take a different route. You're protecting yourself whilst you're still raw.

Recognise that grief is cumulative. If you've experienced other losses, losing your pet might bring all of it back. That's normal. Your heart is trying to catch up with everything it's carried.

When moments of joy return, be gentle with yourself. Laughing again doesn't mean you've forgotten. It means your heart can hold grief and life at the same time.

You don't have to justify this loss

For many people, pets offer a kind of love that feels uncomplicated. They don't judge your worst days. They don't leave when things get hard. They are there in the quiet moments no one else sees.

When that bond ends, your body notices. The absence can feel physical.

Understanding this doesn't take the pain away, but it can soften the self-criticism.

If you're finding that the grief isn't easing with time, or that you've been holding it together for months while quietly struggling, that doesn't mean you're doing grief wrong. It often means you haven't had the space to process it properly.

What to do next

If this has stirred something in you, you don't have to work it out on your own.

The Grief Assessment Quiz can help you understand what's sitting beneath the surface. It takes ten minutes, and your results arrive in your inbox with personalised insights.

If you've felt hurt by the things people have said, the free guide, 5 Things Never to Say to Someone Grieving, can feel deeply validating.

And if you're feeling stuck or exhausted, you can book a 15-minute clarity call. It's a calm conversation to explore whether supported grief work feels right for you.

Love Your Pet Day doesn't have to be about pretending you're fine. It can be about honouring a bond that mattered, and giving yourself permission to grieve in your own way, for as long as you need.