What to Do the Week After Your Pet Dies: A Gentle Guide for the Hardest Days
Clear gap: competitors focus either on immediate body logistics OR emotional grief coping, but nobody bridges both into a gentle day-by-day guide that also connects to what comes after (the memorial). Pachamama's angle: a warm, human guide that walks you through the hardest week, day by day, combining emotional support with practical steps, ending with the hopeful transition toward a meaningful memorial when ready.
What to Do the Week After Your Pet Dies: A Gentle Guide for the Hardest Days
The house is too quiet. The food bowl is still on the floor. You keep hearing sounds that aren't there, the click of nails on tile, the jingle of a collar, the thump of a tail against the couch. And then the silence rushes back in, louder than before.
If your pet just died, you're probably moving through the world on autopilot. Making coffee you don't taste. Answering texts you can barely read. Wondering how everyone around you is just going about their day when your entire daily rhythm has been pulled out from under you.
This guide is here to walk beside you through the first week. Not to rush you. Not to tell you how to feel. Just to gently say: here's what you might expect, here's what you can do, and here's what can wait. Because right now, you don't need a plan for the rest of your life. You just need to get through the next few days.
The First 24 Hours: Let Yourself Stop
The first day is the hardest. Your body knows something has changed before your mind fully catches up. You may feel numb, shaky, exhausted, or strangely calm. You may cry for hours or not cry at all. None of these responses are wrong.
What to do right now:
If your pet died at home, contact your vet. They can guide you through next steps for handling your pet's body, including options for cremation, burial, or pickup services. Most vet offices and pet cremation services offer transportation if you're not able to bring your pet in yourself.
If your pet was euthanized at the vet, the clinic will walk you through aftercare options before you leave. You'll typically choose between individual cremation (where you receive your pet's ashes back) or communal cremation. If you're unsure, it's okay to ask for a day to decide. Most clinics will hold your pet's remains for you.
If other pets live in your home, let them see and sniff your pet's body if possible. Animals process loss too, and having a moment to recognize the absence can help them adjust. You may notice your surviving pets acting restless, clingy, or withdrawn in the days ahead. This is normal.
What can wait: Everything else. You don't need to decide what to do with ashes today. You don't need to dismantle the pet bed or wash the blankets. You don't need to be productive, social, or strong. Today, the only job is to let yourself stop.
Eat something small. Drink water. If someone offers to bring food or sit with you, say yes.
Days 2 and 3: The Routines Hit Hardest
By the second and third day, the shock starts to thin and the absence becomes sharper. This is when the missing really begins, not as a concept, but as a physical experience woven into every part of your day.
You reach for the leash before you remember. You hear a noise in the hallway and turn to look. You wake up and your hand moves to the spot on the bed where they used to sleep. The routines you built around your pet, the walks, the feedings, the way they greeted you at the door, leave gaps that feel enormous.
What helps during these days:
Don't try to fill the gaps right away. Let them be empty for now. Resisting the absence only makes it louder. Instead, acknowledge it: "This is the time I used to walk [name]. I miss that."
Step outside at the times you used to take walks together. You don't have to go far. Fresh air and movement, even five minutes, can help your body process what your mind is still absorbing.
If you received your pet's ashes, place them somewhere that feels right for now. A shelf, a table, beside a photo. This doesn't have to be permanent. It's just a gentle place to let them rest while you figure out the next step. Our guide on what to do with ashes after cremation covers every option when you're ready to explore them.
Write down one memory. Just one. It can be a sentence: "The way she always stole socks from the laundry." "How he'd rest his chin on my knee during dinner." This small act keeps the connection alive and gives your grief somewhere to land.
Days 4 and 5: The World Moves On (But You Haven't)
By mid-week, the outside world has largely returned to normal. Friends who texted on day one may not text again. Coworkers expect you back. The grocery store doesn't know your dog just died, and the silence of a house without a pet at the end of a workday can feel crushing.
This is one of the loneliest stretches of pet grief. The loss is still raw, but the support has thinned.
What helps during these days:
Tell someone how you're doing. Even a short text to a friend who gets it: "I'm having a hard day. I keep expecting [name] to be here when I get home." You don't need advice. You need to be heard. If you're not sure how to ask for support, our guide on how to help a friend who lost a pet can be shared with someone you trust.
If you have children, check in with them. Kids process grief in waves, and mid-week is often when it surfaces, through changes in behavior, questions that return, or quiet withdrawal. Our guide on how to explain pet death to a child can help you navigate those conversations with warmth.
Begin thinking, gently, about what you might want to do with your pet's ashes. Not deciding. Just noticing what feels right. Does the idea of a water ceremony bring peace? Does planting something in the garden appeal to you? Does keeping a keepsake urn at home with a candle and a photo feel comforting? There's no rush, but letting the ideas surface can be part of the healing.
Days 6 and 7: Small Rituals Begin
By the end of the first week, something subtle may begin to shift. The grief hasn't lessened, but it may start to change shape. You might find yourself moving from "I can't believe they're gone" to "I miss them so much." That shift, from shock to aching, is the beginning of active grief, and it's a sign that your heart is doing what it needs to do.
What helps at the end of the week:
Create a small memorial space. It doesn't need to be elaborate. A photo, their collar, a candle, and their ashes (if you have them) arranged on a shelf or table can become a quiet anchor point in your home. Our Pet Memorial Kits include a keepsake urn, candle holder, and tealight designed for exactly this kind of gentle tribute. You can add a photo frame and engraved name tag as optional upgrades.
Light the candle. Sit with it. Say their name. This may feel small, but ritual has weight. It tells your nervous system that this loss is being honored, not ignored.
If you feel ready, begin exploring what a memorial might look like. You might consider:
A water ceremony at a lake, river, or ocean where your pet loved to be, using a biodegradable urn that floats briefly before dissolving.
A garden burial with an urn that includes wildflower seeds, turning your pet's resting place into a living memorial.
A keepsake urn at home with a candle, photo, and their collar, a permanent space of remembrance.
Sharing ashes among family members so everyone who loved your pet can keep a portion close.
If none of this feels right yet, that's completely fine. Our guide on signs you're ready to hold a memorial can help you recognize when the time is right, whether that's next week or next year.
Things You Don't Have to Do This Week
Grief culture sometimes creates pressure to act quickly, to "process" the loss, to make decisions, to move forward. But the first week after losing a pet is not the time for big decisions. Here are things that can absolutely wait:
Deciding what to do with their things. The bed, the toys, the leash, the food bowl. You don't have to throw them away, donate them, or put them out of sight. Some people find comfort in keeping these items nearby for weeks or months. Others pack them away on day two. There is no right timeline.
Getting another pet. The emptiness may make you want to fill it immediately. But bringing a new animal into a home that's still grieving can create complications for both you and the new pet. When the time feels right, our guide on whether to get another pet after loss can help you navigate that decision.
Hosting a memorial. Some families hold a ceremony within days. Others need months. Both approaches are valid. The memorial will be more meaningful when it comes from readiness, not obligation.
Being okay. You don't have to be okay this week. You don't have to perform recovery for anyone. Grief takes the time it takes, and the first week is just the beginning.
Taking Care of Your Body
Grief is physical. In the first week, you may experience headaches, nausea, chest tightness, fatigue, insomnia, or a loss of appetite. These are normal stress responses, and they usually ease with time. But your body needs care even when your heart is broken.
Eat small meals, even when you don't feel hungry. Keep water nearby. Go to bed at a regular time, even if sleep doesn't come easily. Step outside once a day, even briefly. Move your body gently: a short walk, some stretching, or simply standing in the sun for a few minutes.
If physical symptoms persist beyond two weeks or feel unmanageable, consider talking to your doctor. And if your grief feels overwhelming or you're struggling to function, reaching out to a therapist or pet loss support group is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign that you loved deeply and need support.
Taking Care of Other Pets
If you have surviving pets, they may grieve too. Dogs may whine, pace, refuse food, or search the house for their companion. Cats may become withdrawn, vocal, or clingy. These behaviors are their way of processing the change.
Keep their routine as consistent as possible. Maintain regular feeding times, walks, and attention. Give them extra affection without overwhelming them. If a surviving pet's behavior changes significantly or persists for more than a few weeks, consult your vet to rule out any medical causes.
Some families find that involving surviving pets in a memorial helps, letting them be present when the urn is placed or when you visit a meaningful spot. Animals are more aware of ritual than we give them credit for.
FAQs
How long does pet grief last? There's no set timeline. The sharpest pain usually begins to soften after a few weeks, but waves of grief can return for months, especially around milestones like birthdays and the angelversary. Many people describe pet grief as something that changes shape rather than disappearing entirely.
Is it normal to cry this much over a pet? Yes. Completely. The bond with a pet is daily, physical, and unconditional. Losing that bond is a significant grief, and crying is one of the healthiest ways to process it.
When should I decide what to do with the ashes? Whenever you feel ready. Some families decide within days; others keep ashes in a temporary container for months before choosing a permanent option. There is no deadline.
Should I take time off work? If you can, yes, even a day or two. Grief is exhausting, and trying to perform normalcy while your heart is breaking makes everything harder. If your workplace doesn't offer pet bereavement leave, consider using a personal day.
What if people don't understand my grief? Not everyone will. Some people haven't experienced the depth of a pet bond and may unintentionally minimize your loss. Seek out those who do understand: friends who've loved pets, online communities, or pet loss support groups.
How do I handle my pet's belongings? On your own timeline. Some people find comfort in keeping the food bowl and leash in place for weeks. Others need to put things away quickly. Neither is wrong. When you're ready, you might donate unused food and supplies to a local shelter in your pet's name.
What if I feel guilty about how my pet died? Guilt is one of the most common emotions after pet loss, whether you chose euthanasia, feel you waited too long, or wonder if you could have done more. The truth is: you loved your pet, you cared for them, and the decisions you made came from that love. If guilt persists, talking with a therapist who understands pet loss can help.
This week will be one of the hardest of your life. Not because you're weak, but because you loved so well. The empty bed, the untouched bowl, the collar hanging by the door, these are not just reminders of loss. They're evidence of a life that was full, a home that was shared, and a bond that mattered deeply.
You don't have to have it figured out by Sunday. You just have to get through each day, one at a time, with as much gentleness as you can offer yourself. And when the time comes, whenever that is, there are beautiful ways to honor what your pet gave you. A ceremony at the water. A garden that blooms in their name. A quiet corner of your home where their photo and a candle keep the memory warm.
For now, just breathe. Just feel. Just let the love be louder than the loss.
If you need help when you're ready, we're here. With warmth. With patience. Always.
Virginia