This is the first in a three-part series on anticipatory grief and Celebration of Love sessions.
- Anticipatory grief: How the painful journey of losing our dogs begins
- From pain to healing: The transformative journey of Celebration of Love sessions
I didn’t know what “anticipatory grief” was in 2014.
Looking back, I’m not even sure I was given the chance. Although I can look back at photos of Shep that summer and see now that he was ill, I didn’t see it.
His death was very sudden to me.
It shouldn’t have been.
I don’t want that to happen to Bella. So we are vigilant about her health.
And she is fine. Mostly. We’re dealing with an onset of osteoarthritis in the knee on which she had TPLO surgery in January 2022.
Otherwise, she’s fine.
I’m not just trying to convince myself. She really is 100% healthy.
Trouble is, I know what anticipatory grief is now and dammit, I’m feeling it.
What is anticipatory grief?
One of Bella’s best friends died a couple of months ago. I first photographed Newt six years ago when I met her mama during a ghost-towning excursion with friends.
Newt came to inform the progress of my photography in ways no other dog has, not even Bella. She would patiently pose on any rock or tree stump and jump into frigid waters for me.
Her death came from out of the blue. It shattered me in ways I didn’t expect, leaving a hole in my heart that still aches. In losing Newt, I remembered how fragile and fleeting these moments are — the ones we think will last forever.
And of course it dawned on me that Bella’s days with me grow fewer and fewer every day.
That’s anticipatory grief, the pain we feel when we know we’re going to lose something or someone dear to us. It’s a concept often associated with terminal illness, but it’s just as relevant when we’re facing the impending loss of a beloved pet.
Anticipatory grief can manifest in many ways — sadness, anxiety, frustration, even anger. For pet guardians, this grief is often intensified by the deep emotional connection we share with our animals.
Unlike human relationships, where emotions can be complex and multilayered, the bond with a pet is pure and uncomplicated. This simplicity, this rawness makes anticipatory grief so intense.
We aren’t just preparing to lose a pet; we’re preparing to lose a best friend, a confidant, our adventure buddy.
The thought of saying goodbye to those gentle eyes, that wagging tail and the unconditional love that greets us every day can feel unbearable.
Why it’s so hard
I started studying anticipatory grief in 2019 after I noticed one-third of my clients were coming to me for Celebration of Love sessions. I wanted to understand your … our pain, knowing full well I would experience it again and again as a forever dog lover.
Because we develop incredible bonds with our dogs.
We build trust on the trails together, we have sweet, quiet moments at home, we play and laugh together.
And our dogs listen without judgment, provide comfort with compassion and accept us as we are.
When we realize the time to say goodbye is coming, we aren’t just approaching the end of our time together. We’re also losing a part of ourselves. They are our emotional anchors, smiling with us through all of life’s ups and giving us gentle love through all of life’s downs.
The anticipation of losing that anchor can lead to feelings of fear, guilt, sadness and at the extreme, despair. We might question if we’ve done enough to give them a good life (I do … every damn day) or start wondering when we’ll have to make that most important decision to let them go.
As a certified pet loss grief companion and a grief educator, I understand the emotional and psychological impacts this stage in our journey can bring. It’s not just about preparing for the loss; it’s about navigating the complicated feelings that come with it.
We may feel isolated, unsure of where to turn for support, or even guilty for grieving “too early.” But let me assure you, these feelings are normal and valid.
How to manage anticipatory grief
Let me say that again: our feelings are normal and valid.
In a world where our worry and grief may not be acknowledged by friends, family or society at large, it’s important for us to understand that it is OK for us to have these feelings.
They are a part of the grief process, even though our dogs may still be active and healthy.
We don’t have to go through this alone, even though it may feel like that’s our only option. There is support out there.
We must find our people, the ones who will support us, and maybe not give so much time to the people who will dismiss our grief. At least for now.
And I am here.
How a portrait session can help
One of the ways I support clients during this tough time is by documenting the special moments you share with your dog. The photos we create during a Celebration of Love session let you hold on to the memories that mean the most.
In my grief education, I found comfort in something called the Continuing Bonds Theory. It teaches us that we don’t have to let go of the ones we love after they pass. Instead, we carry our relationship with them forward in new and meaningful ways.
Even after our pets leave this world, the connection we share with them can continue. We can still feel close to them, honor their memory, and find comfort in the love they gave us. The photos we create together during a session help keep those memories alive, offering a tangible reminder of your dog’s place in your heart—forever.
You don’t have to sever the bond. Instead, the images help you carry it forward. Together, we’ll create a visual story that honors your dog’s life and keeps their spirit alive—something beautiful to hold close even when they’re no longer physically with you.
These moments become cherished keepsakes that honor your dog’s legacy and help you through the next stages of your grief journey.
Next up: Your session becomes part of your grief journey
I approach every Celebration of Love session with the utmost empathy and respect. Your experience is as comforting and stress-free as possible for both you and your dog.
My goal is always to create images that reflect your dog’s personality and your connection and to preserve the memories that matter most to you.
In the next part of this series, we’ll dig deeper into how your session becomes a part of your grieving process, an opportunity to start your healing journey.
Remember, I’m here.
As a professional dog photographer I’ve walked alongside many dog guardians during some of the most challenging times of their lives. And I’ve been there myself, losing my precious Shep in 2014.
The bond between dogs and their humans is like no other – full of unconditional love, shared adventures and countless memories.
Even if you don’t book a session, I’m here to provide guidance, support and a shoulder to lean on. Reach out if you need someone to listen.
All so true. When I knew I was losing my last dog I spent days picturing what we would do together as his time neared . I think it helped me with the anticipation of his passing.
I’m thankful for my last two weeks with Lance. The anticipatory grief was difficult, but we were able to celebrate what an incredible dog he was with the people who helped us have seven years with him.
I lived with anticipatory grief for years with Moose. He was a 90lb chocolate lab and he lived to be 15.5. I didn’t think he’d live to be that old. We were lucky he was pretty healthy until the very end. I am not sure how much study has been done on this type of grief but I think there are stages of it. What I dealt with with Moose which lasted for a couple of years and then there’s the anticipatory grief that is experienced in the week/days before you know you’re getting ready to say goodbye. They’re so worth it but gosh it is rough.
Every day, I create time to spend quality time with Cisco and Tito. I wish I had hired a pet photographer for Oscar and Katie, I agree with you, a portrait session can help with your grief. I still miss them dearly, and when I tell people, they look at me as if I am crazy to miss them.
Hospice and palliative care with some of our past dogs, certainly leads down the path to anticipatory grief. But, our dog Ike (a chocolate lab) taught me to live each day as it comes with joy, no matter what. Because that’s how our dogs live it.