Should You Get a Dog After Losing a Loved One? A Gentle Exploration

Finding Comfort in the Wag of a Tail: Exploring Grief, Love, and Healing with a Dog

Grief has a way of leaving us hollow, searching for comfort when words fail. The loss of a loved one—be it a parent, partner, sibling, or friend—can feel like the ground has shifted beneath our feet. It’s during this tender, uncertain time that many find solace and healing in the quiet, unconditional love of a dog.

For some, the soft nuzzle of a snout or the quiet padding of paws across the floor becomes a lifeline, a glimmer of hope in a season defined by loss. But deciding whether to welcome a new dog into your life after losing someone you love is deeply personal. It's not about rushing into something or “fixing” grief; rather, it's about exploring how the bond with a dog can become a gentle balm and how love, in all its forms, grows bigger when we open our hearts once again.

The Personal Journey of Love, Loss, and the Healing Thread of Dogs

Two years ago, I lost my father, Elven Ray Stokes. He passed away on September 26, 2023, leaving behind a lifetime of memories—hunting trips, heartfelt letters, and late-night conversations about life. My dad was a rugged yet deeply reflective man who found connection in the simple, steadfast love of dogs. From hunting companions to cheerful sidekicks, dogs were constant threads woven through the rich tapestry of his life.

It was during his memorial that I voiced a truth that resonates much louder today:

“Welcoming a new dog isn’t about replacing what you’ve lost. It’s about honoring love by choosing to love again. It’s seeing the gifts of laughter, companionship, and wagging tails—and daring to move forward, even through the ache.”

This idea of love being expansive, not reductive, stayed with me as I wrestled with grief and sought ways to heal. The decision to bring a new dog into your life is more than logistics—it’s a tribute to the bonds that shaped who we are.

When Is the Right Time to Welcome a Dog After Loss?

There’s no guidebook or checklist for knowing when you’re ready to add a furry friend to your life after losing someone you love. Grief is uniquely personal, as is the decision to open your heart to new companionship. Here are some reflective questions to help guide your path:

  • Are you longing to fill an empty void, or does forming a new bond feel like a way to honor the past?

  • Would a dog’s companionship bring comfort, or might it feel overwhelming right now?

  • Do you feel more gratitude than raw pain when you reflect on the one you’ve lost?

Your answers might not be clear-cut, and that’s okay. Grieving isn’t linear, and readiness often sneaks up on us in surprising ways.

How Dogs Gently Support Us in Seasons of Sorrow

The companionship of a dog carries a healing power that's difficult to put into words. Dogs have an uncanny ability to meet us in our lowest moments with quiet understanding. They don’t shrink in the face of tears. They don’t stumble over awkward condolences. Instead, they stay close, waiting patiently for your heart to find its steady beat again.

Here are a few reasons why dogs often become a source of solace during grief:

1. They Create Routine

Grief often unravels the fabric of daily life. Feeding, walking, and caring for a dog adds structure to your days—helping you take one step at a time, even when life feels heavy.

2. They Offer Wordless Support

There’s no need to explain your pain to a dog; they understand in their own ineffable way. Their quiet companionship reminds us that some things don’t need words.

3. They Gently Pull Us Back Into Joy

Throwing a ball, seeing a wagging tail at the door, or catching a goofy grin—all these tiny moments of joy can remind you that healing is both possible and beautiful.

Grief, New Bonds, and How Joy Honors Loss

When my father passed, I spent countless hours going through boxes of memories he’d left behind—handwritten notes, weathered photos, little mementos from days gone by. Each piece felt like a bridge connecting me to him. Similarly, bringing a dog into your life doesn’t mean erasing what you’ve lost. It’s a way to carry forward the love and lessons your loved one left behind.

Choosing to love again isn’t a betrayal of the person you’ve lost—it’s a reflection of the impact they had on you. The bond with a new dog honors the chapters you’ve lived while giving you the courage to start a fresh page.

Signs You Might Be Ready for a Dog

If you’re wondering whether now might be the time, here are a few gentle signs you're ready to bring a dog into your life:

  • You cherish memories of your loved one without overwhelming sadness.

  • You don’t see a dog as replacing anyone or anything—you’re ready for a unique bond.

  • You have the time, resources, and energy to care for a dog thoughtfully.

  • You feel inspired to celebrate the past by letting love grow in new ways.

Creating New Traditions While Honoring the Past

Welcoming a dog can be a meaningful way to honor a loved one while building new, joyful traditions. Here are a few ideas to get started:

  • Share their stories. Reflect on how your loved one influenced your love for dogs. Perhaps they taught you how to hike with a pup or care for animals with kindness. These memories can shape your relationship with your new companion.

  • Choose intentionally. Avoid the temptation to pick a dog that feels like a replacement for past pets or loved ones. Look for one whose personality and needs align with your life now.

  • Create rituals. Take your dog to one of your loved one’s favorite places, or light a candle alongside them each year on special anniversaries. New traditions can beautifully complement old memories.

Finding Hope in Unlikely Places

When my dad poured months into restoring a classic ‘67 Mustang, he wasn’t just fixing a car—he was building a symbol of connection and effort. Welcoming a dog is similar. It’s not just about the act of getting a pet; it’s about choosing hope in the midst of heartbreak. It’s about believing that love, care, and joy still have a home in our lives.

Scripture reminds us, “The steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting…” (Psalm 103:17). Choosing to love again—whether through adopting a dog or building new relationships—is one small act of faith in this steadfastness.

A Gentle Invitation

If you’re feeling the pull toward a wagging tail and the soft companionship of a new pup, we’d be honored to walk this road with you. At Stokeshire, we’ve helped countless families take this step—not by forgetting the past but by building on the love that’s already there.

Are you ready to explore whether a gentle, carefully bred companion might be the next step in your healing? Reach out to us today. Together, we can discover how a four-legged friend might bring a bit of joy back into your world.

In Loving Memory of Elven Ray Stokes

When I think about the threads of my own life that led me here—raising dogs that bring comfort and joy to others—I can’t help but see my dad’s hand in it. Elven Ray Stokes was a man of many passions: a collector of books, guns, movies, cameras, a lover of classic cars, a hunter, and a fisherman who respected the land and the animals on it. He treasured his dogs like family and found deep satisfaction in watching his daughter and son run alongside them, free and full of laughter in the Utah desert.

He lived a life woven with complexity and conviction — days spent chasing adventures along rugged mountain roads in his vintage yellow Toyota FJ Cruiser, and quiet afternoons marveling at ladybugs and hummingbirds in the garden. His Canon AE-1 was never far from his side, capturing the fleeting beauty he couldn’t always put into words. It was one of the tender ways he stayed connected to us, my sister and me, framing moments that told us we mattered.

Though his childhood left deep scars and rest and freedom from pain were often elusive, my Father, Elven Ray Stokes, taught me something profound: to cling to what truly matters, to remember where we come from, and to keep seeking, even in our brokenness. When he poured himself into rebuilding that ‘67 Mustang and drove it across the country with me, it was never about the car — it was about the sweet three days we spent together.

If you’ve ever walked through deep loss, you understand just how fragile and fleeting life can be. My dad’s years were full of passions, pursuits, and searching — and while he struggled to find lasting peace in this world, I anchor my hope not in human perfection, but in the perfect, finished work of Jesus.

The good news of the gospel is breathtakingly simple:

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God…” (Ephesians 2:8–9)

Jesus Christ, the Son of God, bore our sins and rose again, conquering death so we could be fully forgiven and eternally loved. Not because of who we are or what we’ve done, but because of who He is — the Savior who seeks out the lost, heals the brokenhearted, and offers us life forever with Him.

If you’re carrying burdens too heavy to lift or questions that feel impossible to untangle, hear this:

Nothing in all creation can separate you from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

That’s why I can still love, forgive, and keep running this race, even through sorrow. It’s why I share these words, hoping you might discover the same unshakeable grace and joy, no matter where your story has wandered. And if you ever want to talk about this hope or simply need someone to pray with you, I’d be honored to listen.

So this choice — to open our homes and hearts to dogs who help mend broken places — is, in many quiet ways, an echo of my father’s life. It’s my way of continuing his search for meaning, joy, and restoration, believing that somewhere between grief and grace, we can all find peace.

This post, and the countless families who welcome Stokeshire puppies into their lives after loss, is lovingly dedicated to my dad, Elven Ray Stokes. May his memory remind us that even through deep sorrow, there is beauty yet to be found — and love, steadfast and everlasting, still waiting for us.