Author visiting her dog in the hospital. Circa Jan 2018 I was never mentally prepared for my dog, Tovi’s, death. It was something that honestly didn't cross my mind as a thing that would happen. Sure, I intellectually knew he wouldn't live forever, but I never actually imagined a life without him, so when he died, I was utterly unprepared for That Life. When Tovi was twelve years old, I recall being struck by an article I came across while mindlessly scrolling on social media

Ms. Roxy Capris (Photo courtesy of proud dad, Barry Starr) After your pet leaves your life — no matter what the circumstances — there is a high likelihood you are experiencing some level of guilt or regret. That’s just how we humans operate. As pet parents, it's on us to make hard decisions, and when the outcome isn’t what we had hoped, we tend to feel a sense of over- responsibility for the loss. We have a way of turning inward and blaming ourselves for things we never had t

Photo by Author "Pet Bereavement Box" When I am in the presence of a person grieving the loss of their beloved pet, I suddenly forget everything I know about grief and find myself at a loss for words. Like really stumbling on my words. Being a witness to big emotions feels uncomfortable and awkward. Yes, I’m referring to myself here— someone whose life is devoted to studying pet loss. In the company of someone else’s grief, I feel helpless, so naturally, I put an insane amoun

I’ve always been obsessed with Hallmark movies: Their idyllic towns, beautiful actors, perfect families, and predictable happy endings transport me to my happy place where I forget reality in a neat 2-hour package. I’m well aware that these movies are far removed from real life and perpetuate traditional beauty stereotypes. Still, it’s nice to shamelessly indulge in my adult version of make-believe once in a while. Among the obvious stereotypes, there is one so insidious I di