Passing the Torch: When Your Animal Companion Asks You to Step In

Her name was Eva, and she taught me something profound about love, loss, and the continuation of connection.

Eva had recently lost her counterpart—her peer sibling who had transitioned just months before. Even though there were younger family members in the house, Eva existed in a space of profound aloneness. She was at a particular stage in her life, and no one else in the household understood what it felt like to be her, right where she was.

Her mom brought me in to offer Reiki sessions. What I came to understand over time was that Eva wasn’t just responding to the energy work itself. She was responding to the one-on-one presence—the undivided attention, the space where she could be fully herself in her grief.

That hour every couple of days became her lifeline.

As long as we maintained regular visits—one to two times a week—Eva managed. She ate. She engaged. She moved through her days with connection.

Then I went on vacation for a week, followed by another week before I could return. During those two weeks, Eva stopped eating. She lost weight. She withdrew.

At first, no one correlated the timing. But looking back, the pattern was unmistakable: Eva needed that consistent one-on-one connection. She needed someone to fill the space—not to replace her departed companion, but to offer the kind of presence that had gone missing.

The Invitation to Step In

Here’s what I came to understand through Eva, and through the many other animal family members I’ve sat with over the years: the time comes when the family member must step in and fill the gap through that one-on-one attention and presence. Whether the death of a companion, an illness, or a change in the family dynamic and home routine, it was important for a family member on the premises to step into that role to keep the energy moving.

I can witness, observe what they are asking for and hold space in the interim. I can let them know it’s okay to feel all their feelings and support their processing to help them get beyond that initial phase. – And I have learned that at a certain point those who live there have to be the ones to continue holding the torch - helping their animal companions re-cultivate that inner flame to help them move through and beyond where they are.

Not a new pet. But them—the humans who love this being.

If they wanted their Eva to flourish and thrive, they had to be willing to step in with new intention. To offer the love and one-on-one presence that had always flowed so naturally from the animal to them—now it was time to consciously offer it back whether via brushing, play, fully being with he or she, doing that new type of walk that opens both the person and animal to new joys.

Not during crisis. Not during illness. But now, in the everyday, when there’s still space to truly nourish the connection.

 Your Turn to Carry the Light

If you have an animal companion who seems adrift after loss, or who’s moving into their senior years, consider this: they may be waiting for you to meet them where they are. To offer the kind of steady, present, one-on-one attention that says: I see you. I’m here. You matter to me, exactly as you are right now.

You’re animal companion spent years offering you unconditional love, presence, and connection. They showed up for you in ways both visible and invisible. Now it's your turn.

Don’t wait for crisis to deepen your presence. Don’t wait for illness to finally give your full attention. Step in now. Fill them up with your love, your time, your undivided presence—the way they’ve been filling you up all along.

If you’re navigating this tender transition with your own animal family members, I’d love to hear from you.