©Getty Images

The psychology of grief: Why losing a pet dog or cat is like losing a family member

Several studies have found that the bereavement of a pet can be just as traumatic as the bereavement of a human family member.

Try 3 issues for £5 when you subscribe to BBC Science Focus Magazine!
Published: December 20, 2022 at 7:00 am

I recently discovered an article with the title “Losing a Pet Can Be Just as Hard as Losing a Loved One”. For many, this is like saying “Breaking your femur can be just as painful as breaking your leg”. Obviously it is: they’re the same thing! The first one just uses more specific terminology.

However, clearly not everyone agrees. There are those who, when encountering someone upset over the loss of a pet, say “just get a new one”. Legally, pets are just property. A cat is something you buy, and one cat is the same as any other, right?

Those with no concern for or experience with pets may think this. Nonetheless, It’s still fundamentally wrong.

Firstly, human brains are very capable of forming strong emotional connections. Even with individuals we’ve never met, or those that do not, or cannot, exist. We even form emotional attachments to inanimate objects, and experience a sense of profound loss if they’re lost or broken.

Taking this into account, people forming meaningful emotional connections with non-human creatures is more likely than not. Indeed, it happens often.

Some may still scoff. Because how can you form an emotional bond with something that can’t even talk to you? Easily, it turns out.

Nonhuman pets unarguably cannot offer the same intellectual/cognitive stimulation of a fellow homo sapiens. However, they actually have advantages with invoking emotional bonds. One obvious one is that, with their small overall size but proportionately large heads and big eyes, typical pets have many of the qualities of human babies, which our brains are instinctively, and emotionally, driven to care for and protect, to an often confusing degree.

Indeed, babies too offer no intellectual or cognitive stimulation, but we tend not to write them off as irrelevant. The very idea is abhorrent, let alone the fact that doing so would effectively doom our species.

We humans, and other fellow primates, are also very tactile creatures, and comforting contact is a priority when forming interpersonal bonds. So, for all their lack of witty repartee, dogs, cats, rabbits, hamsters, ferrets, and pretty much anything else that can offer warm cuddles can often tick emotional boxes that our species cannot.

Granted, not every type of pet can offer this tactile dimension. Furry mammals, and some birds with their soft feathers, can. But reptiles, insects, fish etc. will struggle here. The ever-emotional human brain can still clear this obstacle, but still, this may explain why some pets are regarded as more “lose-able” than others.

But consider this; a pet’s limited cognitive abilities and interactions? They may mean the emotional bonds we form with them are stronger, not weaker.

The human brain has evolved many complex mechanisms to thoroughly engage with our fellows. Empathy, theory of mind, mimicry, impression management, and more. But most, if not all, of these, involve elements of manipulation, deception. This is actually an impressive cognitive ability, but it nonetheless can introduce an element of doubt into any bond we form with another person.

Are they being totally honest with me? Do they have ulterior motives? Even if we trust someone implicitly, we know they can bed deceitful. And this will ultimately impact our brain’s understanding of them.

But this isn’t true for pets. If we come home and our dog is ecstatic to see us, we know it’s not lying. Because it can’t! If our cat opts to climb on our chest and purr, it’s hard to think it’s playing ‘the long game’ and trying to win us over.

And yes, you may think the behaviours we perceive as love and affection from our pets are overly anthropomorphised interpretations of something more basic (e.g., “Your cat doesn’t want to cuddle, he just wants a warm place to sleep, and would eat your face if you die at home”). But as far as the human brain is concerned, that doesn’t matter!

Consider how many people mourned, and still do mourn, Princess Diana, or the recently departed Queen Elizabeth. Individuals they never encountered in person. Whatever emotional attachment they had is based on a concoction of their imagination.

Why would pets be any different? If the wagging of a dog’s tail is perceived as affectionate excitement rather than a primitive canine cue, then that’s what it is as far as our brain’s concerned.

And if we can form equally potent emotional bonds with beloved pets as we do with humans, it logically follows that we experience similar grief when they die, as studies have revealed.

This suggests that the grief following the loss of a pet should be treated just as seriously as that following the loss of a family member or loved one. Because as far as our brains are concerned, that’s exactly what’s happened!

Ideally, what services that exist should be expanded to acknowledge pet death as source of grief. It can be legitimately as traumatising as the passing of a loved human. And in some ways, even more so. After all, nobody would ever say “Your mother died? Well, adoption exists, why don’t you just get a new one?”

Such people would be vilified to the extreme. I’m not saying that those who say the same about pets should receive the same treatment. But then, the comparison isn’t exactly unfair.

Read more about psychology: