Grief after pet loss is not linear. It comes in waves; some weeks you feel almost yourself, others you fall apart in the cereal aisle. That is normal. It is also normal for those waves to slowly soften over the first six to twelve months.
For some people, that softening doesn't happen.
This isn't about whether you loved your pet "enough" or "too much." It is about whether your grief has shifted from something you carry to something that carries you, in ways that are interfering with day-to-day life. The clinical name for that is prolonged grief disorder (PGD), and it is now recognised in international diagnostic frameworks (ICD-11 and DSM-5-TR).
This guide walks through the signs and what to do next in New Zealand. It is not a substitute for professional advice. If anything in here resonates, please talk to your GP or a registered counsellor — pet grief is real grief, and it qualifies.
What "prolonged" actually means
In the simplest framing: grief that, at least 6 to 12 months after the loss, is still intense enough to seriously disrupt your daily life.
Two things matter in that sentence: time, and functional impact.
- A few hard days at the one-year anniversary is not PGD. That's normal grief.
- Months of being unable to work, sleep, eat well, or engage with the people you love, with no sign of softening, may be.
If you're not sure where you sit, the rest of this page may help you decide whether to ask for support.
Common signs of prolonged grief disorder
You don't have to have all of these. They cluster.
Persistent yearning or longing that hasn't softened over many months — the feeling that you cannot stop searching for them, listening for them, expecting them to be there.
Intense emotional pain when you think of them, of a quality and severity that feels essentially unchanged from the first weeks.
Identity disruption — feeling that part of yourself died with them, or that you don't know who you are anymore without them.
Marked avoidance — avoiding their bed, their photo, the room they slept in, the walk you used to take, the supermarket where you bought their food.
Emotional numbness — feeling unable to experience joy or warmth, or feeling cut off from the people you love.
Difficulty engaging in life — withdrawing from work, friends, family, hobbies.
Intense loneliness — feeling fundamentally alone in a way you didn't before, even with people around.
A sense that life is meaningless since they died.
Difficulty accepting the death — months in, still feeling that it cannot be true.
If several of these have been present, intensely, for more than six months and are seriously interfering with your life, it is worth talking to a professional.
What's normal vs. what's worth a conversation
| Normal grief at 6+ months | Worth a conversation |
|---|---|
| Tears at unexpected moments | Tears that don't pass and that stop you functioning |
| Avoiding the dog park for now | Avoiding entire suburbs, friends, work |
| Missing them sharply | Feeling life has no meaning since they died |
| Some sleep disturbance | Persistent insomnia, weight loss, exhaustion |
| Bad days | Months of bad weeks |
| Holding their collar in a drawer | Inability to alter anything in their space, six months on |
The line is not about how much you loved your pet. The line is about whether the grief is gradually changing — even slowly — or whether it is staying the same and starting to take over.
Why pet grief specifically can become "stuck"
A few features make pet grief uniquely vulnerable to becoming prolonged:
The relationship is constant and physical. Your pet was there every morning and every night, often for a decade or more. Their absence isn't intermittent the way a friend's is.
You may have made the decision. Choosing the timing of euthanasia carries a particular weight. Even when it was the kindest choice, the feeling of having decided can become its own ongoing grief. (See our regrets after pet euthanasia posts.)
Society sometimes minimises it. Friends, family, employers may treat it as smaller than it was. Grief that is not witnessed has a harder time finding its shape.
The relationship had no edges. A pet doesn't have an external life that creates boundaries on yours. They are with you all the time. So is their absence.
None of this means your grief is wrong. It means it deserves support that takes it seriously.
Getting support in New Zealand
If anything in this post is sitting in your chest, please:
- Talk to your GP. Pet grief is a valid reason to start a mental-health conversation. Some PHOs and Te Whatu Ora services fund a small number of counselling sessions; eligibility varies, but it's worth asking about. Your GP can also refer you to specialist services if needed.
- Find a counsellor or psychologist. The NZ Association of Counsellors (nzac.org.nz) and NZ Psychologists Board registers let you search by region. Ask whether the practitioner has experience with bereavement and pet loss specifically — some do, some don't.
- Free helplines, anytime:
- Need to Talk? Free call or text 1737.
- Lifeline NZ — 0800 543 354 or text HELP (4357).
- Samaritans NZ — 0800 726 666.
- In an emergency, 111.
You do not need to be at crisis point to deserve support. PGD responds well to specific therapies (including grief-focused CBT and complicated grief therapy). The earlier the conversation starts, the sooner the grief can begin to move.
A gentle note
If you are reading this and recognising yourself, please don't take it as a verdict. Take it as a small piece of information that might mean today is the day to make one phone call.
You did not love your pet too much. You are not broken. There is help, in New Zealand, designed for exactly this.
See also our companion post on what prolonged grief disorder actually is and how it differs from depression and PTSD — pet grief vs prolonged grief disorder explained.