You Have the Right to Honor Your Beloved
The wider culture may never reach a point where we have public ceremonies (e.g., funerals, memorial services) and grief rituals in honor of our beloved beyond-human family members. It’s also not something you can–or should–wait for. You can give it to yourself.
If there’s a silver lining to this lack of public acknowledgement, it’s this:
You have the ability to create your own meaningful ceremonies and rituals based on what you need, what you feel is right. You’re not beholden to conventional funeral rites or processions or any particular dogma. You get to say and do what you want, completely free to honor your animal soulmate in whatever way you wish, in whatever way holds true to their unique spirit (and yours).
They can be as simple or elaborate, as playful or somber, as casual or formal as feels most fitting to you. The point is that you do it. Ceremonies and rituals are, in essence, offerings of the highest kind: to your loved one, to your life together, to the earth for her life-giving support, to the Oneness we all are, and also–importantly–to yourself. Tremendous healing power is contained within these acts of remembrance and devotion.
Sometimes, you might feel inadequate in the face of profound loss. Who are you to create any kind of sacred ceremony or ritual? Who are you to figure out what to say or do in a way that does your baby justice? It’s possible your culture has conditioned you to believe you need an intermediary for anything related to spirituality–someone with special training, perhaps, who’s much closer to the Divine Source than you are. A gatekeeper to the Great Mystery.
I call bullsh*t.
You are no less holy than any other being. Each one of us is endowed with the same divine spark, equally worthy of communing with the infinite, and absolutely, unequivocally endowed with the capacity and capability to honor our beloveds. After all, who knows your baby better than you do? Who loves them better than you do? That, right there, is the only answer you need.
Whatever You Choose to Do Is Good Enough
There’s a tender little story I heard as a child that’s always stayed with me called “The Littlest Angel,” by Charles Tazewell, and–setting aside all of the overt religious connotation–it illustrates how the purity–the authenticity–of our offerings is what holds the most value, because it’s what’s true in the deepest part of our hearts. (If you’re interested in watching the old cartoon I grew up with, you can watch it here.)
What was contained in the littlest angel’s box–his offering–was unspeakably sacred because those items were what was most precious to him, not because anyone else told him they were precious. (Also, as a quick aside, I love how one of the items in his box is his cherished dog’s collar–he and I have that in common.)
You don’t need to overcomplicate ceremonies or rituals; you don’t need to look at what other people are doing or have done in order to do the exact same thing. You only have to ask: what was precious to my baby? What is precious to me now? What were those “ordinary” items you used every day? What were the favorite treats? The favorite toys? Gather them. Use them. YOU are the one who makes a thing sacred, who gives it meaning. It is only the heart that can say what’s precious.
For instance, there are some really pretty crystals out there—ones with vibrant, iridescent colors that catch the light just so, purportedly imbued with certain properties–but if you think any of them would mean more to me than Mox’s chewed-up red rubber bone or Ted’s bedraggled ChiChi, you’re very much mistaken.
By the way, it’s also possible you do choose to have someone else with more experience facilitate these events, who’s maybe a little more emotionally detached than you are, or because you simply don’t have the energy or wherewithal to manage everything yourself. That’s okay, too! You’re the one who knows what you need and what will allow you to honor your darling pet best.
Remember: whatever you use or say or do doesn’t need to look “spiritual.” It just needs to be real. And you know what? Your baby will know it’s real. And so will you. What else matters?
Gathering the Necessary Elements
When planning your ceremony and/or ritual, take into consideration your pet’s favorite:
People (for possible guests/participants)
Food (for their spirit plate)
Place (for possible location)
Toys (for placement at an altar or shrine)
Belongings (e.g., bed, bowl, collar, etc)
Objects you’ve collected from walks/trips together
Soul and Spirit respond to beauty. Consider inviting beauty into your space using:
Candles
Flowers and flower petals
Nature elements (e.g., sticks, stones, pinecones, bowl of water, shells, feathers, etc.)
Incense (e.g., sage, palo santo, copal, etc.)
Music
Memorabilia (e.g., photos, videos, artwork, etc.)
Sample Ceremonies for Saying Goodbye
Below is a condensed excerpt from Gary Kowalski’s Goodbye, Friend: Healing Wisdom for Anyone Who Has Ever Lost a Pet. His book also includes a selection of lovely readings and other ideas for leave-taking rituals.
Most memorials I conduct include a period of silence, permitting participants to be alone with their thoughts, as well as a brief time for sharing, when those present are invited to recall their best and most loving memories. If you would like to offer a eulogy, this is the time. A reading at the beginning of the service and a prayer at the end can open and close such simple ceremonies, invoking a sense of reverence and gratitude and setting apart these few minutes of affectionate tribute as sacred time….A typical ceremony might include the following elements:
Centering ourselves: Begin with a meditation that helps you to connect with the source of your own being.
Acknowledging our loss: Give expression to the sorrow that accompanies the death of a beloved companion.
Honoring our memories: While a memorial service offers a chance to mourn, it should also offer the opportunity to give thanks.
Expressing our hope: Most memorials I conduct end with an affirmation of the life ahead.
Below is an excerpt from Sandra Ingerman’s The Book of Ceremony: Shamanic Wisdom for Invoking the Sacred in Everyday Life. I included a snapshot of her overall structure of a ceremony, as well as her pet-specific modifications:
If the community embraces shamanism, I call in the helping spirits and honor the directions. For a group with varied religious and spiritual beliefs, I use wording that fits with everyone’s beliefs.
Everyone present stands in a circle. Each person in turn tells a funny or touching story, or recounts a memory about their deceased loved one….Once the sharing is complete, I start drumming. I instruct everyone to close their eyes and focus on their deceased loved one. When ready, I ask everyone to raise their hands high into the air as they break their energetic connection, and let the deceased loved one go while wishing them a graceful and beautiful journey home. I drum until everyone has brought their hands back down….The ceremony always creates lots of laughing and crying, but also a sense of closure. Everyone keeps their loving memories of the deceased while letting go of energetic bonds. This creates healing on many levels.
If you perform a burial ceremony for a beloved pet, you can place food and maybe a bit of water or milk in the grave. Share words of love for the precious animal who was a family member. Then raise your arms while wishing your pet a loving journey home that is filled with light, love, grace, and ease.
Moxy’s memorial service was held exactly two weeks after he succumbed to post-surgical complications; my mum hosted it at her house, which had been one of his favorite places to visit. For the ceremony itself, I requested that only my immediate family members and then-partner be present, both for my comfort–since I was still in an exceedingly fragile state–and also because they’d known Mox best. Later, for the dinner portion, my siblings’ significant others were able to join.
The living room was decorated with candles, autumnal bouquets of flowers, and large canvas prints of Moxy. His favorite toys, as well as select belongings (e.g., his bowl, leash, bed, etc.) were gathered and displayed at the front of the living room. At the center of this makeshift shrine, I placed his ashes (only for the duration of the ceremony–I held them the rest of the time).
Both my sister and then-partner sang and played songs on their guitars. My mum created a video montage of some of Mox’s photos and videos set to music (a total tear-jerker). We went around the room, and each person shared a special memory or anecdote related to Moxy, as well as what they loved about him. When it was my turn, I read the 10-page eulogy I’d written as a love letter to my baby. We ended the service with tears, hugs, and a generous turkey dinner spread (one of Mox’s favorite meals–as well as mine) set to a curated playlist.
Without having any external guidance or frame of reference, we created a ceremony that was incredibly personal and intimate, warm and safe. The things we did were simple (nothing groundbreaking here), yet effective, and all held with the thought: what would honor Moxy best?
“Closure is important in all transitions, but after a death, there are rites of passage for the survivors as well as for the deceased. Completion of their ritual responsibilities…moves the living into a new phase of life. When survivors aren’t allowed sufficient time to grieve, however, the wounds close too soon, remain infected and never heal.”
— Barry Spector
Ritual Overview + Simple Structure
Ritual, according to Francis Weller, is “any gesture done with emotion and intention by an individual or group that attempts to connect the individual or community with transpersonal energies for the purposes of healing and transformation.”
Interestingly, rituals are our oldest language as a species–we’ve been performing them for longer than we could speak. For me, a ritual is all about connection: connection between me and my little one, and connection to something far greater than myself. It’s meant to put you in a different head space, to open you more deeply to mystery and magic.
The possibilities for rituals–for grief or otherwise–are endless. What matters most is your presence (you need to participate fully, and register emotion within your body) and your imagination (your capacity to be impressed upon and relinquish control). One general rhythmic structure you might follow would be:
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1. Create a place of focus and beauty
For example, create a small altar of your treasured pet’s keepsakes (it can be placed on a fireplace mantel, nightstand, bookshelf, etc.)
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2. Set an intention
For example, My intention is to connect with my loved one [use their name] and receive a message.
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3. Invoke spiritual allies, including your loved one
For example, lighting a candle and calling on the support of Spirit to facilitate your connection.
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4. Perform the ritual
This is the ritual process itself, and can include writing, singing, drawing, dancing, meditating, etc.
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5. Close the ritual
Mark the end of the ritual with a prayer of gratitude and close the space (e.g., blow out a candle, thank your loved one and Spirit, etc.)
“...Ritual is called for because our soul communicates things to us that the body translates as need, or want, or absence. So we enter into ritual in order to respond to the call of the soul.”
– Malidoma Patrice Somé
There are also micro-rituals, little gestures of love and tribute. For instance, I love the spirit plate micro-ritual: for his birthday and our anniversary, I light a candle and leave out a plate of treats for Mox (e.g., pieces of steak or chicken, etc.). Sometimes, I’ll also invite him to walk with me and Teddy, and I’ll play special songs on my phone as we walk.
What you’re doing here through ritual is learning how to have a relationship with your pet in their new (invisible) form. You grieve the loss of their physical form; you mourn the life you had together. But you always, always keep the love with you, and if you’re open to it, you can relate to them in a new, expanded way.
Love continues. It’s what we get to keep.
Poetry Selection - Farewell Ceremony
A sampling of touching poems that can be read at a funeral/memorial service:
Gypsy Christ, Sophia de Mello Breyner
I Am Standing Upon the Seashore, Henry Van Dyke
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in), ee cummings
In Blackwater Woods, Mary Oliver
My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close, Emily Dickinson
Never More Will the Wind, Hilda Doolittle
Music Selection – Farewell Ceremony
Note: I’ve created a Spotify playlist of evocative songs for your consideration (please feel free to suggest more!), and included some of my favorites below.
Calling All Angels, Jane Siberry and KD Lang
Faith’s Hymn, Beautiful Chorus
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, Roberta Flack
How Long Will I Love You, Ellie Goulding
Into My Arms, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds