
Losing a beloved pet can feel like the ground has disappeared beneath you. The first 90 days after loss are often the most disorienting, filled with waves of sadness, confusion, guilt, and even numbness. If you’re here, searching for how to cope with pet loss, please know you’re not alone. This guide offers compassionate tools and reflections to help you navigate those raw early days — while reminding you that your grief is valid.
Grief experts often talk about the “acute phase” of grief — the first few weeks or months where the loss feels overwhelming and all-consuming. During this time, routines are disrupted, emotions swing unpredictably, and it’s easy to feel lost or isolated.
The Journal of Loss and Trauma notes that early grief can significantly affect sleep, appetite, and concentration, making even simple tasks feel impossible. On the podcast Griefcast, guests often describe the early months as a time when reality “hadn’t caught up yet,” capturing that surreal state many of us know too well.
For me, the first 90 days were a blur. I had been laid off just weeks before Jasper ultimately passed away, and suddenly my days felt empty. I decided to visit my parents and some friends in Florida. I sat a lot. I read books — they were my escape. I remember reading Kristin Hannah’s The Women in just two days because I couldn’t stand to be alone with my thoughts.
Grief isn’t linear. You may cry one moment and laugh the next. Both are valid. Suppressing emotions only delays healing. The American Psychological Association warns that avoidance often leads to prolonged distress.
I remember the first time I laughed. I can’t recall what it was about, but I immediately stopped and felt guilty. Looking back, I wish I could hug that version of myself. Just because you smile or laugh doesn’t mean your love or pain has disappeared. I’ve now come to realize that grief and love can coexist — but it took me a long time to get there.
In grief, time can feel distorted. Simple daily anchors — like making your bed, journaling, or walking at the same time each day — can create structure when everything else feels chaotic. James Clear’s book Atomic Habits highlights the power of small, consistent actions. Even a gentle habit can serve as a lifeline.
Some days, I walked for hours on the beach, crying behind my sunglasses, retracing places Jasper and I had watched sunrises and sunsets. Those walks became a routine that helped, even though it often took all my energy to start.
And mornings were especially brutal. Jasper had always been my alarm clock — ready to eat, ready to pull me into the day. Without him, I felt purposeless. What was there to get out of bed for anymore?
Memorializing your pet can help anchor the grief and give space for love to be expressed. This could be lighting a candle, making a photo album, or writing letters to your pet. The popularity of Rainbow Bridge memorials shows how rituals help many people feel connected to their pets beyond loss.
For me, journaling was complicated. People kept suggesting I write or “be grateful.” I hated those people. I wrote “Dear Jasper” at least ten times, but not a single word flowed. If this happens to you, please know it’s okay. Sometimes grief makes words impossible. That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
Isolation is one of the hardest parts of early grief. Finding people who “get it” can bring immense relief. Support groups — whether in person or online — provide space to share your story and hear others’. The Journal of Social and Personal Relationships has shown that community support significantly reduces the intensity of grief.
Films like Marley & Me remind us that shared stories of loss can be both heartbreaking and healing. For me, one of my turning points came when I called my therapist. I was spiraling — blaming myself for Jasper’s cancer, for not doing enough, for the day he left us. My therapist picked up the phone (a privilege I don’t take lightly) and encouraged me to get out of bed, drink some water, and step outside for 10 minutes. Then he reminded me of my tools — the small things that ground me — things I couldn’t recall on my own in that fog. That phone call planted a seed. I realized how desperately people in grief need compassionate reminders and support. That seed grew into Jasper, this platform.
In those early months, one of the most helpful things I did was create a Care Plan — a grounding tool to use on the hardest days. It’s something I now encourage everyone to have.
Think of it as your personalized “grief cheat sheet” — a reminder of what helps you stay grounded when emotions feel unmanageable. Your Care Plan might include:
I recommend filling it out when you’re in an okay headspace, then keeping it somewhere close — on your fridge, in your phone, or next to your bed. It’s there to catch you when you’re too overwhelmed to remember what helps.
Download Jasper’s Printable Care Plan — a free, customizable template you can print and fill out. Use it as your anchor during the stormiest moments of grief.
This small act of preparation becomes a quiet act of self-compassion — a way of saying, “I deserve support, even from myself.”
There’s no “right” way to grieve. Some people feel functional in weeks; others still feel raw years later. What matters is honoring your timeline, not comparing yourself to anyone else’s.
As Elisabeth Kübler-Ross said, “Grief is as individual as a fingerprint.”
Grief changes over time. The first 90 days are intense, but they are not permanent. By allowing yourself to feel, leaning on routines, creating rituals, seeking community, and giving yourself grace, you begin the slow process of integrating loss into life.
Jasper was my reason for getting up every morning for 15 years. When I lost him, I lost not only my best friend but also my structure, my purpose, my anchor. In those first 90 days, I didn’t know how I would survive. But here I am, still grieving, still loving him — and building something in his honor to help others find their way through.
If you’re in the first 90 days of grieving your pet, please know you don’t have to navigate this alone. Jasper offers compassionate support groups, journaling tools, and a community that understands the depth of your loss. Join us to find connection, validation, and healing — one day at a time.
Join Jasper today - community.jaspergrief.com