Do animals grieve the loss of those they love? Scientists have debated the ability of animals to feel emotions like grief for centuries, emphasizing the need to not interpret animal behavior through a human lens, often attributing changes in behavior to changes in circumstances, not emotions. Recent years have found new research into animal behavior and the perception of pet emotions has shifted. Barbara J. King, a biological anthropologist who studies animal cognition and emotion and the author of “How Animals Grieve,” said in an article in Scientific American, ” … cetaceans, great apes, elephants, and a host of other species ranging from farm animals to domestic pets may, depending on circumstances and their own individual personalities, grieve when a relative or close friend dies.”
My father passed away at the end of January. Because we lived together, I am going through the painful experience of watching his cats deal with his passing. As we have lived in the same home for four years, my two dogs and two cats have integrated with my father’s two cats, Hector and Ajax. I have taken care of his cats many times when he has been out of town, sometimes for extended periods of up to six weeks. They have always waited for him to return, accepting attention from my family when it was offered but rarely seeking it out. They are 15 years old now, and my dad has been their primary person for most of that time. They tended to stick to his room and his office, maintaining their routine whether he was present or not.
When my father entered the hospital in January, initially, their behavior did not change. A week into his stay in the ICU, Hector astonished me by jumping up on my bed one night, asking for attention, which he had never done before. He has spent at least part of the night on our bed ever since and has also started sitting in both my lap and my husband’s lap, even venturing into the kids’ rooms to sleep during the day. Somehow, Hector knew this absence was different and his behavior changed accordingly. Ajax, however, remained in my dad’s rooms, patiently waiting for him to return.
The day my father died, the nurse working with us in the ICU at Maine Med brought us a fleece blanket, sewn by the mother of a child who passed away in the ICU. She makes them for the families of those who pass in the ICU. The nurse laid the blanket on my dad and I made sure it touched his skin after he was gone and I folded it in on itself to preserve his scent.
When I got home, I unfolded the blanket and put it down on my dad’s bed, next to where his cats were sleeping. Hector sniffed at it and seemed unaffected, but Ajax’s response was startling — he sniffed and then froze. Eyes wide and pupils dilated, staring into space, he did not move so much as a hair for a full 20 seconds, seeming to not even breathe. Alarmed, I said his name and he jumped slightly, looked at me, jumped down off the bed and hid under it, refusing to come out, even for food, until the next day.
Over the years, I have heard many stories about pets whose owners have died. Pets have held vigils, refused to eat or engage in normal activities and, in extreme cases, have needed medical intervention when their guardians have passed away. We can’t explain what has happened to them the way we can to humans; their worlds have changed, and they have no idea why. Like people, pets respond to the change in varying ways. Hector has handled the loss of my father by branching out and getting love and attention from more people. Ajax has lost weight, his ordinarily robust appetite has become lackluster and he still spends the majority of his time in my father’s bedroom or office, waiting. I don’t know if we will have a breakthrough with him or not. I spend time brushing him every day, talking to him and trying to coax him into interacting with me, but the decision is ultimately up to him, and I will be as patient as I can while he grieves.
Jess Townsend is executive director at Midcoast Humane.
