The Day the River Went Out and Never Came Back – Helping Children Process the Loss of a Pet
In loving memory of our cat, River and our dog, Kuja.
Today is remembrance day and yesterday, our family cat, River, was hit by a car and died. The house feels different now — quieter, emptier. River was woven into the rhythm of our days: morning greetings, evening cuddles, the soft weight at the end of a bed.
As I sit with grief, I’ve been reflecting on how we help children process the loss of a pet — something teachers, parents, and therapists often encounter but sometimes brush past too quickly.
Many children I work with want to talk about pets they lost long ago — what they meant to them, how they miss them, where they think they’ve gone. It’s a powerful reminder that grief in children is real and lasting, even when adults assume they’ve “moved on.”
What Is Grief?
“Grief is the normal and natural emotional reaction to loss or change of any kind. Of itself, grief is neither a pathological condition nor a personality disorder.” - Grief Response
Grief is a healthy, human response to losing something or someone we love. People often say pets are here to teach us lessons — one of the biggest being how to love and how to lose. But that doesn’t mean the pain is any less.
The neurochemical reaction in the brain after losing a pet is the same as losing a human loved one. When we bond, our brains fill with dopamine and oxytocin — the “love hormones.” When that bond is broken, our brains go through a withdrawal not unlike an opioid withdrawal. It’s visceral and painful — no matter the size of the creature we’ve loved.
Disenfranchised Grief - When Loss Isn’t Recognised
There’s a term for grief that society doesn’t validate: disenfranchised grief — “Grief that persons experience when they incur a loss that is not or cannot be openly acknowledged, socially sanctioned or publicly mourned.”
(Kenneth J. Doka, 1989)
This might include:
• The death of a pet
• Miscarriage or infertility
• Death by suicide or overdose
• Loss of culture, language, or home
• Grieving someone who is still alive (through mental illness, estrangement, or imprisonment)
When a child’s grief is brushed off — “It was just a hamster” or “You’ll get another cat” — we risk teaching them to hide their sadness. They learn that some kinds of love aren’t valid.
When the Vet Said My 7-Year-Old Wouldn’t Understand
After River died, the vet asked the ages of our children, and then compassionately and clumsily told us that our seven-year-old “wouldn’t understand.”
But when my seven year old heard the news, she wailed — loudly, openly, heartbreakingly. I can tell you with absolute certainty that she did understand. She understood through every cell of her body what loss feels like.
The vet was likely referring to the developmental understanding of death — that at seven, children are still learning that death is permanent and universal. But emotional understanding often comes before cognitive understanding.
Here’s what we know:
• Ages 5–7 are a transitional stage — children may grasp that a pet won’t come back, yet still imagine reunion.
• Some 7-year-olds can talk about death with striking empathy, while others are still finding the words.
• Having experienced a previous pet’s death, my daughter already knew what this meant.
Supporting Children Through Grief
It’s vital that we, as adults, become comfortable with big emotions — both in ourselves and in the children we support. When we panic, rush to comfort, or try to shut down sadness, we teach children that grief is unsafe.
1. Be Steady for Them
If you have unresolved grief of your own, it’s okay to seek support first. A regulated adult can hold space for a child’s dysregulation. If you can’t right now, that’s human — and it’s okay to have someone else help.
2. Allow the In-and-Out of Grief
Children naturally move in and out of grief. One moment they’re crying; the next, they’re playing. This isn’t avoidance — it’s self-regulation. Distraction offers respite. But if a child is constantly busy or blocking feelings, name what you notice gently:
“I see you’ve been keeping really busy today… I wonder if it’s hard to think about River.”
3. Speak the Truth
If a child retreats into fantasy or denial, gently bring truth into the space:
“I’m so sorry that your cat died.”
Simple, honest words help reality feel safe again.
4. Make Space for Anger
Grief often comes out sideways — in frustration, irritability, or anger. Beneath that may be an unspoken:
“How dare you leave me! I want you back.”
Help children find safe ways to express these feelings — through words, art, or movement.
5. Honour the Quiet Grievers
Some children show no outward emotion at all. Their feelings are too big to access right now. Stay beside them - curious, patient, present. Art, play, or movement can help externalise the unspoken.
Remembering, Rituals and Healing
When a pet dies, what helps children most is having a sense of agency, ritual, and memory. Children often need to do something with their feelings — to create, to honour, to remember. We can help them express their grief in ways that feel tangible and meaningful.
Create a Goodbye Ritual
Allow the child to be involved in deciding how to say goodbye.
• Talk through what happens next — cremation or burial — and give them choices:
• Would they like to see the body to say goodbye?
• Do they want to help choose where to bury the pet, or what container or blanket to use?
• Would they like to pick flowers, draw a picture, or place a special item (like a toy or note) with the pet?
• In many cultures around the world, seeing the body is a natural part of saying goodbye. It can help children make sense of death as real and final, rather than abstract or frightening. There is no “right” choice — only what feels right for the family and the child.
Hold a Pet Funeral or Memorial
• Invite the child to write or draw something to share - a story, a letter, a list of favourite memories.
• Play a song that reminds them of their pet.
• Light a candle, say a few words, or have everyone share one thing they loved about the animal.
• Create a “memory garden” or choose a tree or plant to grow in the pet’s honour.
Make a Memory Book or Box
Encourage the child to gather photos, drawings, and mementos of their pet — perhaps a collar, tag, or favourite toy.
• Decorate a memory box or scrapbook together.
• Include drawings of special moments (“the time River slept on my pillow”).
• Add printed photos, paw prints, or fur clippings if you have them.
This process helps children externalise memories and make them concrete, which supports emotional regulation and meaning-making.
Write Letters or Draw Pictures
• Write a letter to the pet, saying what they loved and miss.
• Write a letter from the pet, imagining what the pet might say if they could comfort their human.
• Draw pictures of the pet in their favourite place — a way to visualise them at peace.
Create Ongoing Rituals of Remembering
• Light a candle or say goodnight to their pet on special days.
• Keep a framed photo somewhere visible.
• Make a special bookmark or piece of jewellery with their name.
• Share happy memories at the dinner table now and then — modelling that remembering can be joyful, not just sad.
Connect Through Story and Art
• Read children’s books about loss and grief (e.g. The Invisible String by Patrice Karst, Goodbye Mog by Judith Kerr, or The Day the Sea Went Out and Never Came Back by Margot Sunderland - which inspired this blog title).
In the therapy room, offering sandplay, clay, or painting — letting the child build a scene that expresses how they feel. Or for younger children, symbolic play with animal figures often helps them work through the concept of death and separation safely.
Grief isn’t something to fix. It’s something to walk through, together — with honesty, gentleness, and permission to feel.
The day that River went out, and never came back.
But love stays. Always.