How a Death Doula Handles the Death of Her Soul Dog

Even as a death doula, nothing prepared me for this.

Two weeks ago, I filmed a video about how I was coping with the slow decline of my senior dog, Foxy.

She was my constant companion, my shadow, my soul dog.

And now… she’s gone.

Foxy was six when I adopted her.

We'd both been through some things.

But from day one, she became my anchor.

She would’ve turned 14 in June.

In the final weeks, I noticed the shifts:

• Her walks became slower.

• She slept more.

• She stopped eating her food, then refused even her medicine wrapped in peanut butter.

• The day before she died, she couldn’t walk and threw up undigested food.

  
  

That’s when I knew—it was time.

I called Peaceful Pet Passages first thing the next morning.

They came to the house that afternoon.

We sat outside in the sun—her favorite spot, surrounded by grass and warm air.

I scratched her belly, held her paw, whispered that I loved her.

I stayed with her through the entire process.

I opted for the private viewing and cremation.

I sat beside her. I pet her one last time before she went into the retort.

I saw her remains. I picked out her urn.

It was hard. But it was exactly what I needed.

Even with all my training, all my tools—grief still broke me open.

It’s not the big waves that hit me hardest.

It’s the micromoments:

Walking down the hall.

Turning around in the kitchen.

Stepping out of the shower.

She was always there.

Now… she’s not.

And that’s the thing I’ve learned—grief doesn’t care how much you know.

It just wants to be felt.

I promised Foxy I’d stay with her until the very end.

And I did.

Now, she gets to be my sun.

If you’re grieving a beloved pet, or holding space for someone who is—I see you.

And if you’re wondering how to prepare, how to be present, or how to create a sacred goodbye…I made a guide that might help.

You can get my free Conscious Death Checklist when you sign up for my newsletter.

Because you’re going to die someday.

But maybe first… you’ll walk someone you love across the threshold.