Q&A with Aimee Wilson, Project Lead of Gracie’s Way, for Dying Matters Awareness Week

TW: Mention of suicide, abuse, and rape

There are many ways of getting strong, sometimes talking is the best way.

— Andre Agassi

Firstly, can I just start off by saying how incredibly grateful I am for my best-friend and one of the amazing creators of Gum On My Shoe, Martin Baker, for providing me with the opportunity to write this guest post? Pet bereavement is becoming a more widely talked about and acceptable topic of conversation, but there still aren’t nearly enough people who will use their online platform — of whatever form e.g. social media, YouTube channel, blog, company website etc — to speak about it. So, the whole purpose of this post is to raise awareness and promote talking about the loss of a pet and the overwhelming and heart-breaking grief that can come with it because, as Gum On My Shoe illustrates, it is talking that could not only improve a person’s wellbeing, but which could also contribute to eradicating stigma of topics, traumas, and general life events. So, I’m hopefully going to help with those things by answering some questions.

Can you tell us the story behind Gracie’s Way?

Of course, the ultimate inspiration for Gracie’s Way — and the entire reason for its name — should come first! I’d like to start at the beginning here and explain why I even got Gracie, but it’s a bit long-winded, so please just stay with me! In around Summer 2022, my rescue cat Emmy became poorly with a wound on her face and despite my frequent calls to her Vet, descriptions of the wound, and offers to send photos they were adamant it was a scratch from her always going outdoors. As the wound continued to grow bigger, I ended up taking her to a completely different Vets who gave me a same-day appointment as soon as I explained the situation! They almost immediately told me that if I’d left it another week, she would’ve most likely lost the sight in one eye because the wound was between the corner of her eye and her ear and was becoming closer and closer to the corner of her eye.

Unfortunately, despite treatments for the wound, in October 2022 Emmy was diagnosed with Feline Leukaemia (the PDSA actually have a really useful page on their website about the virus so that you can gain an awareness of the symptoms to look out for if you have a cat too) and was euthanised on October 26. You can read my little poem marking her death over on my own blog I’m NOT Disordered: REST IN PEACE MY DARLING LITTLE CALICO; EMMY.

One of the saddest aspects to losing Emmy was that she left behind a best-friend: my eldest bunny; Luna, who I’d gotten in September 2021 (DEAR LUNA, | INTRODUCING MY NEW BUNNY!!!). I had bought Luna after losing my first rabbit (Pixie) — who I had first so Emmy had been bonded to her too. So, when Emmy died, Luna began constantly searching the house for her and going to all the places where Emmy would usually either sleep or hide! She also started picking up the cat tunnel (which she used to play in too, so that’s why I kept it) with her teeth and running around the sitting room in circles with it. Initially, I thought it was quite funny but when I — just in passing — told the Vet, she said Luna was missing Emmy and likely grieving for her and becoming upset and distressed that she had no companion and, particularly, she was sad that there was no one to play with. Of course, this was heart-breaking to hear, and I immediately felt terrible for missing these signs and not realising that this was the message that her behaviour was meant to be getting across to me!

I asked the Vet what she recommended and she said, “I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but the best thing is to get her a new friend!” She explained that rabbits are actually very sociable animals and that typically, they should actually live in pairs but that I’d likely gotten away with not doing that because my rabbits — Pixie first and then Luna — had always had a companion in a cat (first Dolly, then Emmy). She told me that it would likely be easier to introduce her to a new bunny than a new cat and so that’s where Gracie came in! She and Luna bonded so well immediately and were always in another room to me, cuddled up or washing each other, so I ended up getting my cat Ruby as company for myself too!

After just two years and ten months with Gracie, I began noticing wet stools in the sitting room but because I had two rabbits and neither showed any other signs of Gut Stasis (which, seeing wet stools, can be a sign of!) I didn’t know who’d done it and so I didn’t know who needed to see the Vet! Two days later, on October 31, 2025, Gracie was sat hunched up in the hutch — which is always open and they very rarely go in it — and she wouldn’t come for her breakfast or respond to Luna who was eagerly and persistently trying to lick the top of her little brown fluffy head. I called the Vets as soon as I realised it was Gracie for an appointment the same day, but the receptionist told me: “At least she’s still having stools. She’ll be ok overnight and we’ll see her first thing tomorrow morning.” I tried to argue by stating that the stools were wet and that I was told that was a terrible sign and a symptom of Gut Stasis which is what my first rabbit Pixie died from when, after five episodes of it left it harder and harder to bring her through them, the Vet deemed her quality of life to be so low that he officially recommended euthanasia. Unfortunately, I didn’t put up a good enough fight and eventually I agreed to an early appointment the following morning.

That next morning, when I woke up, I could hear noise and scrabbling under my bed and I remember thinking “I bet Luna and Gracie are under there and I’m going to look like an idiot ringing the Vet to cancel the appointment after arguing she needed it!” But, when I looked under, it was just Luna sitting there. So, then I went to the kitchen and checked the hutch (where Gracie had sat hunched up for around five hours) and when she wasn’t there, I checked behind the washing machine (where she’d been for the three hours before I went to bed) and she wasn’t there either, so I went into the sitting room. But I barely got through the doorway before realising Gracie was outstretched on her side on the floor and I had almost stepped on her!

Now, if you’ve ever seen a bunny lie down, you’ll know they can flop rather dramatically — like, to the point of it looking like they’ve literally just died. So, when I first saw Gracie lying like that, I stood there for like a minute or two watching her side, desperately hoping to see it rise up and down and to be able to breathe a sigh of relief and laugh at myself for being so scared. But no, no breath. I bent down and felt her freezing cold, stiff body, and finally, I knew and I said “Oh, my Gracie!”

I realised my phone was in my hand so I called my Mum and just burst into hysterical tears that were so pronounced I could barely get my words out or say anything my Mum could understand! When the words came out, I felt myself struck with a sudden panic about what on earth I should do with her. I mean, I didn’t want to bury her in my garden but then I didn’t know whether the Vets could have your pet cremated — as they have for the last three pets I’ve lost — if they hadn’t put it to sleep. So, I ended the call with my Mum saying that she and my almost-Step Dad would come over as soon as they could, and then I called the Vets. It was still early so I called the emergency out-of-hours number and when she answered I just remember saying “Ultimate emergency: my rabbit is dead — is there anything I can do?” She asked me to feel for a heartbeat and I almost threw up having to touch Gracie when she was so cold. It just felt wrong.

When I tried to lift her paw to get to her chest, her entire body moved and the girl on the phone said that meant she’d likely been gone for some time and that there was nothing I could do. She said that I could still take her to the Vets, and they could have her cremated though, so when my Vets were open I called to say that I didn’t need the original appointment, explained why, and checked I could bring her in. Whilst I waited for my Mum and her partner to come, I found this blanket that I use when I sit outside on the grass in my garden and whilst my bunnies are indoor only, I did used to bring grass in every so often and Gracie loved it! So, I put that blanket over her and asked my Mum to put her in a box I had from a recent delivery.

When we got in the car, I rang the Vets again to ask if there was a room or somewhere else I could sit with her whilst waiting for the Vet so that I wasn’t just holding her in the waiting room with everyone else there. And they had the sweetest response: “We have a room ready for you.” They then also suggested that I ring when we were in the carpark, and someone would come and let us in the back door so that I didn’t even have to walk through the waiting room! But I didn’t mind that bit so much if I knew I was going straight into a room, so walking into the waiting room my eyes went straight to the desk because at the corner of my vision I saw something flickering. On the reception desk, they had an electric candle on with a sign saying that if the candle was lit then someone was losing their best-friend and to be mindful of this. Then, the room: they had set up a blanket on the side table and there was a form sitting on it that had “Gracie” and “brown mini-Lionhead lop” and “2 years” on it. Then there were options for me to tick the type of cremation I wanted and space to write in which sort of urn I wanted for her and whether I wanted a hair clipping and/or paw print too.

Now, I have sometimes wondered and asked myself why it was Gracie’s death which led me to create a pet bereavement project, when I’d lost the family cat, my first cat, my first rabbit, and my rescue cat prior to Gracie’s death. And, of course, all of these losses were equally heart-breaking and filled me with immense grief and upset. I do think, however, that the fact that I found Gracie made all the difference to just how different it has been from the losses of the other pets who were all euthanised. And isn’t it strange that one detail like that can have such a hugely important impact? That it can make so much difference?

What are some signs that someone may need additional support after losing a pet?

There are three signs that I have pinpointed which I believe show that a person needs additional support in the pet bereavement:

1. Feeling Unsafe: Feeling unsafe during pet bereavement signals overwhelming grief; extra support helps restore stability, prevent isolation, process trauma, and guide healing through compassion, validation, and professional care during acute emotional distress.
2. Your Grief is Negatively Affecting Daily Routine and Self-Care: When grief disrupts self-care and daily routines, it shows emotional overload; added support can rebuild structure, protect wellbeing, and help you to cope safely while healing with guidance, compassion, and accountability.
3. Your Grief is Negatively Affecting Supportive Relationships: When grief strains supportive relationships, it signals unmet emotional needs; seeking additional help can improve communication, reduce isolation, and support healing without losing vital connections during an already vulnerable time.

Gracie’s Way has a Help Directory which might be useful here.

In your experience, how important is validation when it comes to grieving a pet?

Martin — and actually, anyone who knows me — will tell you how important and life-saving validation is for me with life in general. I mean, it originally started as being about my mental health and then, when I began talking about it, it became about the trauma I experienced when I was younger, then it grew to include my physical health and the life of my pets and their health too! And then really, just any decision I make or thought or feeling that I voice! Validation means more to me than I could say to someone who illustrates it.

I think that the largest reason why it matters so much is because, during the abuse and rape, I went for so long — six months — with absolutely no validation for anything in my life and from anyone at all in my life! And actually, when I think on it, for around the two years immediately after that too because I didn’t report it or speak up about the impact it had on my mental health and all the unsafe ways that I was using to desperately try to cope.

So, in pet grief and bereavement, validation has gone on to be important for me too and I think, judging by the ways in which it helps, this isn’t necessarily a personal thing. I think it could help other bereaved owners in various ways too. So, here are some of my thoughts on specific ways validation might prove beneficial.

It gives you permission to grieve fully.

Losing a pet can feel as intense as losing a family member. When your emotions are validated — by yourself or others — you don’t have to suppress sadness, guilt, anger, or even relief. That openness helps the grief move instead of getting stuck.

It reduces isolation.

Grief can feel lonely, especially if others don’t “get it.” When someone says, “Of course you’re devastated — you loved them,” it creates a sense of being seen. That connection can ease the heaviness a bit.

It calms self-doubt and guilt.

People often second-guess decisions (like euthanasia, timing, or treatment choices). Validation — “You did the best you could with the information and love you had” — can soften that inner criticism.

It helps you process, not avoid.

When emotions are acknowledged instead of dismissed, you’re more likely to sit with them, reflect, and eventually integrate the loss into your life, rather than pushing it away.

It honours the bond you had.

Validation recognizes that your pet mattered. That the relationship was real, meaningful, and worth grieving. That alone can be deeply comforting.

What are some healthy ways people can cope with the loss of a pet?

For more advice on this, please request a copy of any or all the following resources — which are the most descriptive and obvious in answering this question — that are available for bereaved owners by emailing Gracie’s Way at gracieswayuk@outlook.com.

• Seeking Professional Help & Support: The Signposting Card
• Creative Writing: The Creative Writing Workbook
• Wellbeing Activities: The Wellbeing Activity Guide
• Remembrance Exercises: The Remembrance Exercises Resource

Other coping skills can be found in The Pet Bereavement Coping Guide.

How can friends or family best support someone going through pet bereavement?

Good communication, which can be advised, promoted, and instructed with this resource: The Grief Communication Guide.

A trauma-informed approach, which can be recommended and properly identified in this resource: Trauma Informed Care Guidance.

For more advice on this, please request a copy of any or all the resources that are available for “professionals” (but this includes family and friends) by emailing Gracie’s Way at gracieswayuk@outlook.com.

Has working in pet bereavement changed your own perspective on death and dying?

As a result of a very strange and rare experience, I have a bit of weird insight into death and dying which is honestly, probably going to mean my perspective on the topics will never change. I had a respiratory arrest a number of years ago — I should probably remember an exact date for something like that, but it was around two years after the abuse and the start of my mental illness, so a lot was going on! I do, however, remember the exact situation — actually, that helps me to know the date a bit better: it was around 2008/2009 because it was when I was still in my weekend job at a huge retail store in a nearby city and I left there in summer 2009 when my mental health finally resulted in me being sectioned.

I was doing a shift when I got a crippling pain in my lower tummy and my Supervisor called an ambulance after having recently established a diagnosis of Poly-Cystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS: which you can read more about on the NHS website).

Suspecting that I had burst a cyst in my ovary, the paramedics gave me i. v. morphine and whisked me straight off to A&E where they administered more. At the time, the NHS were actually in the midst of switching all of the wards etc from one site to another and it so happened that the gynaecology ward had already moved to the other site, but A&E had not. So, when my pain was under better control and my observations (mainly my blood pressure, which was low, and my pulse, which was high!) had been stabilised, A&E called an ambulance, and they transferred me to the gynaecology ward in the other hospital.

As soon as I arrived though, I was back in agony, and they began giving me more morphine. Now, back then, I had only had morphine a handful of times previously and had never been in as much pain, so I didn’t think to question just how much I was being given. And, in all fairness, I really shouldn’t have had to! The hospitals and ambulance service should have communicated with each other.

I actually don’t remember gently slipping away or things fading. I just remember opening my eyes and everything being white, but despite how bright it all seemed to be, there was still an even brighter white bit in the very centre of my vision. The other contradiction was in my feelings. I felt incredibly still and peaceful but at the same time, I remember having this drive and urge to reach that middle, brighter bit in the white. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to find my hospital room full of doctors and nurses with someone just taking a syringe away from the cannula allowing them to administer medication straight into my veins.

Slowly, there were a few sighs of relief, a few questions, and people began disappearing. It was actually my Mum who told me what had happened. She said she’d been talking to the nurse (who had her back to me) when she noticed my lips going blue. She asked the nurse about it and she pressed a button behind my bed, a crash team came racing in, and they declared a respiratory arrest. They administered adrenaline and it was the second dose that had made me come round but they’d said if that had failed, I’d have been put on life support. When they realised it had been an overdose of morphine, they had to put me on a drip of it for a few days so that I didn’t go into opioid withdrawal, which can also be deadly!

This experience has led me to believe that death isn’t a scary or sad place. And sometimes this is incredibly bad for my mental health — particularly when I’ve been suicidal — because it’s left me unafraid of dying and this often becomes more motivation or strength to not be afraid of attempting suicide either.

Hopefully this is somewhat understandable to some people and hopefully it answers the question and illustrates my point that because this happened, nothing can really shape my perspective on death and dying.

How can people get involved with or support Gracie’s Way?

There are numerous ways you can collaborate with Gracie’s Way. You can find out more about the four key methods here (Collaboration Opportunities) or about the Ambassadorship Programme.