We love pets. 53% of us in the UK owns one. Pets are very big business - from the Small Animal Veterinary Surgeries seen in every town, to the multi-million pound food and accessory business.
Pets mean money.
But what about the true meaning of a pet to its person? There's so much temptation directed at you to part you from your pennies when your pet is young/sick/old. At any stage of their life, someone, somewhere, will be persuading you to
part with money at risk of you feeling guilty if you don't.
Until the end comes. At the very time you. as a true animal lover, need it most, the help (if help you can call it that) vanishes. With the exception of some wonderful practitioners, the minute your best friend has left the room, you're expected to get on with life as normal.
Am I cynical about the monetisation of our love? Probably, but I feel it's with good reason.
Although we are getting better at talking about mental health, we shy away from talking about death. Death has also been monetised. An entire industry surrounds this most sobering and inevitable part of life. And the loss of a pet is still not something widely accepted and recognised as being part of this same process, as having the significance it unquestionably does for those experiencing it.
Sure, your pet wasn't your child, partner or parent. But think about this: who else was there with you, for all of those years, throughout absolutely everything, as a non-judgemental, comforting presence, just being, just with you. Was anyone else ever with you so much?
As a Celebrant, the vast majority of my work is helping the bereaved through their experience of loss. Although that work usually has a clear focus - a ceremony - much of it is about listening and talking to the bereaved.
Listening is key to helping. We need to express our loss repeatedly and from many angles, and following loss, we must build space for that into our lives. In the past we wore armbands to denote our status as the bereaved. Nowadays, we're not even sure if we should wear black. And if you did either of these after losing a pet, people would question your mental health - do I spot a double standard?
Death, however it arrives, is always a shock and the impact of grief well documented, so why should we try to hide its impact when it is so well reported?
Let's stop pretending and embrace our shared experience. If we are fortunate enough to live long enough, we will all lose people and pets we love at some point. It's time to stop being afraid and acknowledge that we all grieve those we love. It is only through grieving that we start to come to terms with our loss. And grief is only an expression of love, so why would we ever try to hide that?
This blog has been inspired by the loss of a much loved family member, my sister in law’s 19 year old dog, Spud. He was a true star and all of us loved him to bits. The hole he leaves is huge.
So Spud, wherever you are, this is for you, thank you for everything ❤️❤️