Black dog and tan dog, bonded pair, having fun digging together in the forest

Canine Grief: I Lost One Dog and Watched Another Fall Apart

Content note: This article discusses pet loss and may be difficult for those who have experienced similar loss.

It was late on a Saturday night when we very suddenly (and unexpectedly) lost Florence.

She’d seemed a little off for a few days, refusing dinner once or twice, not wanting to go for a walk one evening, keeping herself to herself more than usual. Nothing overly alarming. Just small things that didn’t quite add up. Until suddenly they did.

By the time we realized something was seriously wrong, Florence was having trouble standing up. Her stomach started to look bloated. Because our car was being serviced, we called a cab, wrapped her in a towel, and rushed her to the emergency vet twenty minutes away. She was practically delirious by the time we arrived.

She didn’t make it through the night.

Florence had come to us from a shelter in Romania four years earlier, so shut down with fear we had to carry from the car into the house. She spent her first four weeks living in a bathroom, too scared to come out. We had to use a 30-foot long line before she would walk outside because she was too scared to have me stand any closer. It took six months for her to trust me enough to run freely through the forest and sit next to me on the couch.

And then, that Saturday night, she was suddenly just gone.

Totally dazed, we came home in the early hours without our sweet girl, to a house that still had all her things and three other dogs who were wondering where their friend was.

What I watched happen next

Another of our Romanian rescue dogs, Roman, was Florence’s best friend. In those early days when she was terrified of everything, he was the one who helped show her that walks could be fun, that humans could be trusted, and that the world wasn’t something to be endured but explored. They spent four years doing everything together — walking, sleeping on the same sofa, chasing each other around the yard.

In the days after Florence died, Roman was lost.

He would lie in her spot on the sofa, which still carried her scent. On walks, he’d be reluctant, hesitate, change direction unexpectedly, or put on the brakes for no apparent reason. He was irritable with our other two dogs Lennox and Esme. He had a flatness to him, a kind of gray that settled over his personality and didn’t lift.

It took at least a year before he was fully himself again.

Lennox and Esme grieved too, though differently. They mourned their loss less intensely and recovered faster, probably because we adopted them after Roman and Florence’s bond had been cemented. But the household dynamics still shifted for all of them. Our walks were different. The routines were different. There was a space where Florence should have been, and everyone was struggling to adjust.

Watching Roman grieve his friend was something that has stayed with me. It confirmed, in the most personal way possible, something the research had already been telling us.

Medium size black dog and medium size tan dog walking together on dirt track
Roman (right) and Florence did everything together. He mourned her for many months after she died suddenly © The Cat and Dog House

What the science says

For a long time, canine grief was one of those things dog owners knew was real and scientists were cautious about confirming. The language around animal emotions has historically been careful (understandably so, given the risks of anthropomorphism) but the evidence has been building for years.

A study of 426 Italian dog owners who had lost a pet found that 86% of surviving dogs showed clear behavioral changes after the death of a canine companion. The most common signs were increased attention-seeking, reduced playfulness, and lower overall activity. The dogs also slept more, appeared more fearful, ate less, and vocalized more.

Critically, the intensity of the grief response was linked to the closeness of the bond. Dogs who had shared a particularly strong, friendly relationship with the deceased companion were more likely to show significant signs of mourning. Dogs who had played together, rested together, and groomed each other, were more deeply affected by the loss.

Which makes complete sense. Roman and Florence did all of those things. Their grief was proportional to their bond.

The study also found something that I recognized immediately from my own experience: when owners were visibly grieving, their dogs often showed more distress. For example, eating less, or appearing more withdrawn. Dogs are extraordinarily attuned to our emotional states. They observe our behavior. Our grief becomes part of their environment, and they respond to it.

That works both ways, of course. Which is part of why losing a dog is so uniquely devastating: you are grieving alongside animals who are also grieving, and who are looking to you to tell them whether things are going to be okay, while you’re still figuring that out yourself.

What grief looks like in a surviving dog

Roman’s grief had a particular shape, but canine grief doesn’t look the same in every dog. Some dogs show it loudly, through barking or whining, searching for their lost friend, or refusing to eat. Others seem to internalize it, becoming quieter and more withdrawn. Some become clingier while others pull away.

The research identified the following as the most common signs:

Behavioral changes

Behavioral changes tend to include increased attention-seeking, reduced interest in play and previously enjoyed activities, changes in sleep patterns, restlessness, and searching for the missing companion — waiting by the door, returning to familiar spots, appearing confused near empty beds or food bowls.

Emotional changes

Emotional changes often show up as increased anxiety, changes in confidence, irritability toward other animals in the household, and a general flatness or loss of spark.

Physical changes

Physical changes can include decreased appetite, lethargy, and occasionally changes in physical health linked to the stress of bereavement.

One thing worth knowing: some dogs show very little. This doesn’t mean the bond wasn’t there. Dogs grieve as individually as they do everything else, and a dog who appears to bounce back quickly isn’t necessarily less affected. They may simply process loss differently.

Tan dog and black dog standing in snowy forest sniffing
Roman (left) and Florence on one of their many forest jaunts together. Research shows that 86% of surviving dogs showed clear behavioral changes after the death of a canine companion © The Cat and Dog House

How long does canine grief last?

The research suggests that about a quarter of grieving dogs show behavioral changes for six months or longer. A third show changes for between two and six months. Around a quarter recover within two months. A small minority show no noticeable change at all.

Roman fell into that first category. What I found helpful was simply accepting that his grief was real, that it had its own timeline, and that my job was to help him through it the best I could.

How did I do this? I kept his routine as consistent as I could. I didn’t wash the bedding on Florence’s spot on the sofa so he could lie there whenever he wanted to and surrounded himself with her scent. I didn’t push him to play or force him to go in a certain direction on our walks. When he wanted attention, he got it; when he wanted space, he got that too.

What actually helps a grieving dog

There isn’t a formula for this. Every dog is different, every loss is different, and some of what helps one dog won’t apply to another. But there are a few things that seem to matter across the board.

Routine

Dogs find enormous comfort in predictability, and this is especially true when something has destabilized their world. Keeping mealtimes, walks, and the rhythms of daily life as consistent as possible provides a kind of scaffolding while the emotional adjustment happens underneath.

Presence without pressure

Being available as in being physically present, calm, and not pushing for interaction is different from trying to cheer them up or drawing them into activities before they’re ready. Some dogs will seek closeness, others will want space. Physical contact can be genuinely soothing when it’s chosen, not imposed.

Gentle activity

Short walks, sniffing games, and easy enrichment can help, not because distraction fixes grief, but because movement and sensory engagement help regulate the nervous system in ways that support emotional recovery. Sniffing in particular is deeply calming for dogs because it activates the seeking system in a way that eases anxiety without requiring high energy.

Time

This can be difficult, because there’s nothing to do with it except wait. But the research is consistent that most dogs do recover, given enough of it. Roman did eventually find his spark again. It took several months, but it (mostly) came back. Sadly, he has never quite replicated the bond he had with Florence with Lennox or Esme.

Whether to get another dog

This is probably the question dog owners most often ask after losing a dog.

But really there are no rules. Some surviving dogs can clearly benefit from the presence of a new companion, while others may feel overwhelmed by a new arrival while they’re still processing the loss of the old one. Some owners are ready too, but many aren’t.

What I’d say is this: don’t rush it. A grieving dog isn’t necessarily a dog who needs a new friend right now. The addition of a new dog is a significant upheaval in itself, with its own adjustment period and demands, and introducing that into an already disrupted household can add stress rather than relieve it.

If and when the time feels right for you and for your remaining dog(s), you’ll know.

The price of the bond

Few people write about the human–dog relationship as thoughtfully as Suzanne Clothier. This is how she describes the experience of losing a dog:

“There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings and walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given.” ― Suzanne Clothier, Bones Would Rain from the Sky: Deepening Our Relationships with Dogs

Florence was with us for just four years. She arrived a wreck, too scared to walk, too frightened to look at me, and too overwhelmed by the world to engage with it. She left bounding through the forest, off-leash, completely at ease in herself and in us.

Roman mourned her loss her for the best part of a year, if not longer. We still talk about her. The grief is the price of the bond. And the bond, as anyone who has loved a dog already knows, is worth every bit of it.


Signs your dog may be grieving: a quick reference

Behavioral: Reduced playfulness, searching for the missing dog, returning to their spots, changes in sleep, restlessness, reluctance on walks.

Emotional: Increased clinginess or withdrawal, anxiety, irritability with other pets, loss of spark or enthusiasm.

Physical: Decreased appetite, lethargy, changes in vocalization.

Duration: Research shows most dogs recover within two to six months. Some take longer. Some show very little outward change. All of it is normal.

What helps: Consistent routine, calm presence, gentle activity, time.


This article draws on the experiences and research documented in these articles on my site: