By a fellow dog lover and the creator of a French Bulldog storyline coloring book.
Why Pet-Loss Grief Deserves More Space
We live in a time when people are more open about mental health, yet some forms of grief still go unacknowledged. One of the most overlooked is the loss of a pet—or the long, heavy period of anticipatory grief when you know your companion’s time is running short.
If you’ve ever heard someone say “It was just a dog” or “You can always get another cat,” you’ll know the sting of having your grief dismissed. That’s why I’m writing this. Because pet-loss grief is real, valid, and worth talking about.
And here’s the thing: the bond you had with your pet wasn’t “small.” It was daily, embodied, woven into your morning routine, your evenings, your holidays, even the way you sat on the couch. When that bond is cut, the silence is deafening.
So let’s shine a light on it. And let’s talk about gentle, creative ways to support yourself—one of which, for me, became the surprising anchor of my healing: coloring books.
The Shape of Pet-Loss Grief
Before diving into supports, let’s name what makes this grief unique:
Daily routine disruption. Pets live in our laps, kitchens, and bedrooms. Their absence echoes every time you open a door or sit in “their spot.”
Disenfranchised grief. Society often downplays it, leaving you feeling isolated.
Anticipatory grief. When your pet is sick or aging, you grieve in advance, toggling between hope and dread.
Difficult decisions. End-of-life care, vet visits, and euthanasia are heart-wrenching choices that can leave guilt in their wake.
Layers of Support You Can Try
Healing isn’t about one “magic” activity. It’s about small supports that stack. I think of it as layering:
1. Allow the Feelings
Say it out loud. “I am grieving.” Giving language to your feelings reduces their power to overwhelm.
Create rituals. Light a candle at your pet’s dinnertime, keep their collar in a special box, or mark anniversaries with a memory walk.
Journal it. If you’re into writing, try simple prompts like:
“One routine I miss most is…”
“My pet taught me to…”
“Today, I remembered them when…”
(See my other post on journaling prompts for grief for more ideas.)
2. Care for the Body
Grief doesn’t just live in the mind—it’s physical.
Tiny walks. Even 5 minutes outside can shift your nervous system.
Weighted comfort. A heavy throw blanket or a warm hoodie can mimic the grounding effect of touch.
Gentle breathwork. Pause in the room where your pet spent most of their time, breathe in for four counts, out for four.
3. Connect With Safe People
Grief needs witnesses.
Choose your circle. Identify one or two people who “get it” and lean on them.
Find community. Online groups or local meetups can normalize your experience.
Set boundaries. If someone says “just get another,” try, “This was a real loss for me, and I need compassion more than advice.”
(See my article on talking about grief when others don’t understand.)
4. Create With Your Hands (Why Coloring Helps)
Now here’s where I circle back to coloring. I stumbled into it by accident. I bought a few adult coloring books from popular stores, but they felt… generic. Pretty patterns, yes, but they didn’t speak to me.
I wanted something specific: pages that reminded me of my dog. So I ended up making my own—a French Bulldog storyline coloring book.
Here’s why coloring can be powerful during grief:
Mindfulness. The act of choosing colors and filling shapes slows down racing thoughts.
Embodied memory. When the page shows your story, you relive the love instead of just the loss.
Gentle routine. Sitting down for 10–15 minutes daily creates a healing ritual.
Non-verbal processing. Not all grief can be journaled; coloring lets feelings move without words.
How to Use Coloring for Healing
If you want to try it:
Pick a page that resonates. Maybe a playful scene on lighter days, or a quiet nap scene on harder ones.
Choose colors by emotion. Sad? Maybe blues and greys. Grateful? Warm oranges and yellows.
Keep it short. Set a 10-minute timer. This makes it approachable and habit-forming.
Pair with reflection. Write a single sentence in the margin: “Today I honored Bella by…”
Anticipatory Grief: Loving While Letting Go
If your pet is still here but unwell, you’re already grieving. That’s anticipatory grief, and it’s exhausting.
What can help:
Memory harvesting. Take a short video each day—a tail wag, a nap snore, a paw twitch.
Comfort goals. Work with your vet to track quality of life.
Micro-rituals. Color a single motif (a star, a leaf, a paw print) each night while naming one gratitude.
I often did this while working on my Frenchie book. Those small acts made the present feel more bearable.
Talking About Your Loss
When others don’t understand, try scripts like:
“I know some people see pets differently, but this is a real bereavement for me.”
“I’d appreciate listening rather than advice right now.”
And if you feel isolated, remember: you’re not alone. There are entire communities devoted to this kind of grief (I’ll write more on finding them in a future post).
Framework: P.A.W.S.
Here’s a simple cycle you can repeat:
P – Pause. Take a breath, ground yourself.
A – Anchor. Light a candle, color one corner of a page.
W – Witness. Recall a memory and say it out loud.
S – Support. Reach out—whether to a friend, or even through reading posts like this.
Coloring Book Tips (Practical Side)
Since a lot of people ask: what should I use to color?
Water-based markers (like Crayola Super Tips or Tombow Dual Brush) are safe for most coloring book paper and don’t bleed heavily.
Colored pencils add shading and depth.
Gel pens are perfect for details (like collars, stars, or café lights).
If you do use alcohol-based markers, place cardstock behind the page to prevent bleed-through.
That’s also why, in my French Bulldog book, I included a gentle reminder page about using a blotter sheet.
Love Lives On
Grief isn’t about forgetting. It’s about finding new ways to carry love. For me, creating and coloring pages of my French Bulldog’s story gave me a way to sit with the loss and the joy at the same time.
Maybe for you it will be coloring, or journaling, or photography, or planting a small garden. Whatever it is, give yourself permission to make it yours.
Because when your heart has paw prints, you deserve healing that feels as unique as the bond you shared.
✏️ If this resonates with you, you might like to try storytelling through art, my 📕 French Bulldog coloring book is designed for exactly that: a blend of story and color, made for anyone who needs a gentler way to hold love and loss.
