My Dog Is Dying… Here’s How I’m Coping

Walking through anticipatory grief with love, presence, and a lot of snacks (for both of us).

Even as a death doula—someone who talks about dying every day, who holds space for families at the end of life, who helps people prepare for the inevitable—this part?

This part hurts.

Foxy is my senior dog. She came into my life when she was six years old, all fluff and attitude, and she’s been my ride-or-die companion ever since.

But lately, I’ve started noticing the signs…

She’s not eating like she used to.

Our walks are slower—sometimes we just sit in the grass instead.

She sleeps more. Her body is changing. Her spirit is softening.

And deep in my gut, I know: We’re entering her final chapter.

What I’m Feeling (And Maybe You Are Too)

If you’ve ever watched a beloved pet decline, you know this kind of grief.

It creeps in slowly.

It shows up in the silence.

It breaks your heart before they’re even gone.

This is what we call anticipatory grief—the emotional process of grieving someone before they die. It’s real. It’s valid. And it can feel just as heavy as the grief that comes after.

Here’s how I’m coping—and three things I’m doing, pulled straight from my doula work, to support Foxy and myself as we walk this sacred path together.

1. Quality Time Is the Real Medicine

I’ve started taking more breaks from work and lying with her on the floor.We go for slower walks, or sometimes just sit outside and listen to the world.I keep the environment calm—low lights, quiet sounds, no unnecessary stress.

This is presence.This is what she needs.And honestly… it’s what I need, too.

2. Letting Go of Appetite Anxiety

This one hit me harder than I expected.

Foxy was always food motivated. That dog would sell her soul for a carrot or a crust of toast.

Now? She turns her nose up at things she used to love.

I still offer her treats and her favorite toys, like her Kong or her snoot mat.I’ve started giving her people food—because at this point, joy matters more than nutrition charts.

I had to remind myself of something I tell my clients all the time:At the end of life, the body slows down. Eating less is normal. It’s not a failure. It’s not my fault.

Still… it’s hard to watch.And I let myself feel that.

3. Practicing Radical Acceptance

When people ask how she’s doing, I don’t sugarcoat it.

I say: She’s declining. We’re just being present with her now.

I remind myself: this is what I signed up for when I adopted a senior dog.I knew our time would be shorter—but that didn’t make it any less sacred.

I let myself cry.I let myself hold her a little longer.I let the grief come early… because it already has.

Bonus: I’m Taking Care of Me, Too

This part is easy to forget, especially for caregivers and empaths.

But I’m eating. Drinking water. Sleeping.Staying connected to my people.Keeping some sort of rhythm, even on the hard days.

Because I can’t be fully present with Foxy if I’m running on empty.And she deserves me whole.

So do I.

You're Not Alone, Friend.

Whether you’re walking through this with a pet, a parent, a partner, or just the thought of future loss…

Please hear this:

Grief starts before death.

And you don’t have to go through it alone.

I created something that might help—it’s called The Conscious Death Checklist. It’s a gentle, powerful guide to help you start preparing for the emotional, spiritual, and practical pieces of death. You’ll get it when you join my newsletter, and I’ll be right there with you, one email at a time.

🕯️ Get the checklist by signing up for my newsletter.

And if your pet is dying right now… or you’re just scared about what’s coming…

Know this:

You’re doing it right.

Your love is showing up in every breath, every soft goodbye, every treat they don’t eat.

This is sacred work.

And I see you.