Pet Injuries and Sudden Death: What a Grief Specialist and a Dog Lawyer Advise
- Jeremy Cohen
- 2 days ago
- 8 min read
There's a conversation most pet owners never get to have.
When something happens to your pet — an injury at a boarding facility, a loss at the vet, a traumatic incident that came out of nowhere — you might end up talking to a lawyer. Or you might find your way to a grief counselor. But rarely both. And almost never at the same time, in the same room, talking honestly about what's really happening in those first devastating hours.
That's what we set out to do in a recent live session with Courtney Wennerstrom, a Certified Pet Loss Grief Specialist, Companion Animal End-of-Life Doula, and host of the forthcoming podcast The Hardest Goodbye. What followed was one of the most candid conversations we've had publicly — part legal reality check, part grief support, and all human connection.
Here's what came out of it.
What's Actually Happening to You
Courtney opened with something that reframes everything: the shock and disbelief you feel in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic pet loss aren't signs that something is wrong with you. They're protection.
"Shock is what your body does," she said. "Disbelief is what your mind does to try to catch up."
When something traumatic happens suddenly, the nervous system goes into emergency mode — disoriented, overwhelmed, unable to fully process what just occurred. Sleep fractures. Eating feels impossible. Some people describe feeling like they can't get enough air. Your entire sense of reality is destabilized, not just your routine.
And that protective layer — as necessary as it is — makes it nearly impossible to think clearly or make grounded decisions.
For the full breakdown of what's happening physiologically and what to do in that first window, read Courtney's piece here. What we want to focus on is what happens next — and what it looks like from both sides of the equation.
The Guilt Spiral, and Where It Goes
Courtney made a distinction during the conversation that stuck with everyone in the room: merited versus unmerited guilt.
Merited guilt, she explained, involves a situation where you genuinely had some role — you accidentally left the gate open, your dog got out. That's real, and it still requires forgiveness. Unmerited guilt is what happens when something was outside your control entirely, but your mind — desperate to impose order on a chaotic situation — turns the blame inward anyway.
"It's a normal thing to leave your pet at a groomer," she said. "It's a normal thing to leave your pet at a boarding facility. But because the world feels so chaotic in that moment, guilt becomes a way to regain a sense of control. Because if random, horrible things just happen — that means the universe is random and scary. But if we can find somewhere to put the blame, even if it's on ourselves, then suddenly it could have been prevented."
Hindsight makes it worse. In the aftermath of a loss, people hold themselves to a standard of omniscience they never actually had. Jeremy sees this constantly.
"A lot of people tell me, I wish I spoke up more," he said. "I know my pet — the vet didn't. I should have been louder, more argumentative. But they heard you. They had the tests. It's easy to say after."
Courtney offered a simple tool for breaking the guilt cycle: ask yourself whether you would say to a friend what you're saying to yourself. Would you tell someone else — someone who loved their pet, who did their best — that they should have known the thing they couldn't possibly have known? Of course not. And the same standard applies to you.
Grief Is Love With Nowhere to Go
One of the most genuine moments of the evening came when Jeremy talked about Maisey — BDL's own logo dog, who passed away exactly one year before the webinar. That timing wasn't planned. It wasn't until Jeremy was welcoming people to the call that he realized the date, and said so out loud.
He talked about the last days, about swimming with her and playing catch, about working hard to be present even knowing what was coming. And about what happened after.
"The first week was ridiculous, trying to get through every day," he said. "But thanks to this community — so many people reached out — that group mentality was so helpful. Knowing that everybody else has gone through this too."
He also admitted something that resonated with nearly everyone watching: feeling a complicated sense of relief after Maisey died. Not because he wasn't devastated — but because he no longer had to anticipate the loss. He no longer had to brace for it.
"I no longer had to walk around and say, what am I going to do," he said. "I no longer had to be so sad about what was coming."
Courtney validated that immediately. Caregiver grief — the kind that builds during anticipatory loss — is real and exhausting. Assessments exist not just for a pet's quality of life during illness, but for the caregiver's quality of life too, because the weight of it becomes its own kind of crisis.
They also talked about the question Jeremy and his wife are still navigating a year later: getting another dog. He described the feelings honestly — have I honored Maisey enough? Can I handle going through this again?
Courtney's response has stayed with us: "Grief is love with nowhere to go. And it can go to another animal." She was careful to say there's no right answer, no right timeline. Some people find healing in letting another pet in. Others aren't ready for months or years. "I respect both," she said. But her question — what would your pet want for you? — is one worth sitting with.
The Call I Get Every Day
Jeremy gets roughly 500 calls a year from people whose pets have been injured or killed. Many of them come in hot — furious, certain they need to act immediately.
"Some people call me and say, I know where the vet lives. I want to go there right now. I want to fight them," he said. "Obviously that's not the way to do it. But I understand the urgency."
What he's learned over years of those calls is that the people on the other end of the phone are almost never in a state to make clear legal decisions. The anger is real and often valid. But acting on it immediately — filing, committing, going to war legally — often doesn't serve them.
He's started doing something he wishes he'd done more consistently from the beginning: building in a buffer. Suggesting day 8 or day 9 before having a serious legal conversation. Not to dismiss them. To protect them.
"They may feel completely different by then," he said. "There might be other ways to honor their pet. And usually, when they're calling me that soon, they don't even have their pet back yet."
Why the People You Trusted Went Silent
This is one of the most misunderstood dynamics in pet loss cases — and it causes enormous pain.
When a vet or boarding facility suddenly stops communicating after an incident, the natural interpretation is that they're hiding something. They welcomed you in, told you how much they cared about your pet, and now they've gone cold. It feels like confirmation that something went wrong.
Usually, that's not what it means.
"There's one major insurance company that insures most of the vets," Jeremy explained. "And they are told: do not say a word. So now you have a grieving pet owner, and the people they trusted aren't even allowed to comfort them."
He's been working to change that dynamic — to help veterinary professionals understand that expressing empathy isn't an admission of guilt. That you can be a human being in a moment of someone's grief without compromising a legal case.
"It's not that they don't care," he said. "It's that they're under instructions."
Understanding this doesn't make the silence less painful. But it changes what it means — and that matters when you're deciding what to do next.
"I Don't Want This to Happen to Anyone Else"
Almost every client Jeremy has says some version of this. They've lost their pet, and the money isn't the point — they want to make sure it doesn't happen to someone else.
It's a real and legitimate impulse. But Jeremy is honest about what litigation can and can't deliver on that goal.
"We move in inches, not in feet, not in yards in pet law," he said. "But the courage of clients who come forward and pursue it — you're making it better for people you will never know, and for pets that might not even be born yet."
At the same time, a formal legal case isn't always the only path — or the most effective one. Sometimes the most meaningful change comes from asking a facility to adopt a new protocol in your pet's name. Jeremy told the story of a case involving a groomer whose ring cut a dog during a grooming session. The outcome that mattered most wasn't the litigation — it was a new policy: remove your rings before working with animals. A small change named for a specific dog.
"In honor of your pet, in honor of your loss — that can be really helpful," he said. "Especially if you know you're helping somebody else."
Day 8
Jeremy said that after Maisey died, he came to think of day 8 as an important threshold. Not because the grief was over — it wasn't, and it isn't — but because getting through one full week meant you could start measuring in weeks instead of hours. And that shift, small as it sounds, mattered.
It's also why he now suggests day 8 or 9 before a serious legal conversation. Not to put distance between a client and their case. To give them a fighting chance at clarity.
Both things are true at once — the grief is still there, and the thinking is a little clearer. That's the window.
This Is Just the Beginning
Courtney and Boston Dog Lawyers are planning more conversations like this one. If you want to connect with Courtney directly — whether you're in the middle of something right now or supporting someone who is — you can reach her at thehardestgoodbyepodcast@gmail.com.
The Association for Pet Loss and Bereavement (aplb.org) offers chat rooms staffed by certified grief specialists, available anytime. Courtney volunteers there and describes it as a genuinely compassionate space.
And if you haven't read Courtney's piece on what to actually do in the first 72 hours, start there.
If you're going through something now — or want to be better prepared if you ever do — we're here.
FAQ -- Frequently Asked Questions
What should I do if my pet is injured or killed at a boarding facility?
Try not to make any major legal decisions in the first few days. The shock and grief make it nearly impossible to think clearly. Give yourself until at least day 8 before having a serious conversation with an attorney.
Why did my vet stop communicating after my pet was hurt?
Most veterinary practices are insured by the same carrier, which typically instructs them not to speak after an incident — not because they don't care, but because they're under legal instructions. Their silence is usually not an admission of guilt.
Is it normal to feel shock after a pet dies suddenly?
Yes. Shock, disbelief, inability to sleep or eat, and a destabilized sense of reality are all normal responses to traumatic pet loss. They're protective responses, not signs something is wrong with you.
What is the difference between merited and unmerited guilt after pet loss?
Merited guilt involves a situation where you genuinely had a role. Unmerited guilt is when your mind turns blame inward to impose order on something entirely outside your control — which is extremely common after sudden pet loss.
Can I sue if my pet was killed due to negligence?
Yes. An attorney who specializes in pet law can help you understand your options — but timing and clarity matter. Waiting a few days before that conversation usually leads to better decisions.
When is it okay to get another pet after a loss?
There's no right timeline. Some people find healing in letting another animal in; others need months or years. The question worth asking: what would your pet want for you?
Jeremy Cohen is the founder of Boston Dog Lawyers, a Massachusetts-based animal protection law firm. Courtney Wennerstrom is a Certified Pet Loss Grief Specialist, Companion Animal End-of-Life Doula, and host of The Hardest Goodbye podcast.
