How Animals Help Us Heal Ourselves

Reflections on presence, comfort, and the quiet medicine of our animal companions

Nov 08, 2025

The digital altar created for the Compassionate Paws Gathering, November 2

Last Sunday, we had our first Compassionate Paws Gathering, and it filled my heart in ways I didn’t expect. A group of us came together to honor our beloved animals who have crossed and to celebrate the love that still lives between us. There was laughter, tears, and a warmth that happens when people show up willing to share both. It reminded me that healing isn’t something we do alone, it’s something we hold for each other.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how animals help us heal, not only through big losses but in all the quiet, ordinary moments too. Their way of caring isn’t dramatic or complicated. It’s steady, gentle, and perfectly tuned to what we need, often before we even realize it ourselves.

When Maisy died suddenly in May, it hit me hard. The house just felt different. Despite the seven dogs and three cats still in the physical, it was quiet. There was a huge emptiness in the space Maisy filled. We all missed her. Two of my other cats, Noodle and Tibby, began moving through the house in a new way. They both started sleeping beside me every night, something they had never done together or so consistently. Tibby would climb onto my chest and purr until I fell asleep, that deep, steady vibration grounding me back into my body. Noodle began curling into the spot that had always belonged to Maisy, tucking herself into the crook of my arm with her head pressed into the space where my shoulder meets my neck. It felt like she was trying to fill the emptiness Maisy left behind. I could see Noodle’s grief too. A tender, quieter side of her that I hadn’t known before. They were both grieving in their own way, and somehow, in tending to me, they were healing alongside me.

Animals always seem to know when our hearts ache. Whether it’s the way they linger nearby or the way they press their warmth against us, they don’t try to fix the pain. They just stay, and somehow that’s enough. Their presence is its own kind of medicine, a reminder that love still lives here, that life continues in all its soft and ordinary ways. Through them, we remember how to breathe again.

I see this with clients all the time too. Sometimes a dog will lie quietly beside a guardian in tears, or a cat will press against their leg when they’re talking about a loss. These small gestures might seem simple or even go unnoticed, but they are profound. They are energy exchanges. Tiny moments of co-regulation that remind us we’re not alone in our emotions. Our animals don’t pull us out of the storm; they help us find shelter within it.

And it’s not just in grief. They guide us toward wholeness in the everyday moments too. When we’re anxious, their calm invites us to slow down. When we’re distracted, they remind us to look up. When we forget joy, they bring it to us, whether that’s a wagging tail, a goofy pounce, or a soft head bump. Healing, I’ve learned, rarely means doing. It’s more about just being. And animals are masters of being.

In my own healing journey, I’ve noticed how the animals around me mirror my energy. If I’m frazzled, the house feels noisier, more restless. But when I pause, breathe, settle, and ground, they do too. There’s a rhythm, an energetic heartbeat we share, a conversation that doesn’t need words. It’s energy, presence, and love all speaking at once.

Grief doesn’t erase love, and love doesn’t erase grief. They live side by side, shaping us into gentler versions of ourselves. Our animals remind us of that balance every day. Their wisdom isn’t something we have to earn, it’s something they give freely, in the way they look at us, rest beside us, and love us through every season of life. Our relationships with them keep teaching us how to open, how to stay, and how to heal.

If you joined the Compassionate Paws Gathering last weekend, thank you for being part of that circle. It meant more than I can say. If not, maybe take a quiet moment this week to sit with your animals, past or present, and feel the ways they help you heal, simply by being who they are. You can also watch the replay of the gathering inside our free Compassionate Paws group, where we shared stories, memories, and moments of connection.

If you’re in this space and would like to explore deeper healing, my November sessions are open for animal communication, energy work, or grief support. You can learn more or schedule through my website.

Our relationships with our animals keep teaching us how to open, how to stay, and how to heal. Love really is the bridge between worlds. And our animals walk that bridge with us, every step of the way.

Thank you so much for reading this post!

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Disclaimer: The information shared in this blog is for educational and informational purposes only. I am not a veterinarian, and my services are intended as a complementary practice to support your pet’s overall well-being. They are not a substitute for professional veterinary care, diagnosis, or treatment. Always consult your veterinarian regarding any medical concerns, conditions, or treatments your pet may require.