My dog died this week, so I was directly confronted with a question I’ve received many times from readers and clients:
How do I declutter my pet’s belongings after they’ve passed?
For the first part of answering this question, I’d like to say: There’s no right or wrong way to do this. Dealing with your former pet’s belongings is about you, not about them. It’s a part of grieving, and it hurts.
You’ll feel heartbroken, and that’s okay.
You might not touch any of it for a long time, and that’s okay too.
Try to think of this process as a step in grieving, not as a chore.
You don’t have to rush to get rid of everything. You can take it at your own pace, carefully selecting items to keep as a memorial, mindfully choosing what gets donated to other pets in need, deciding what could be reused in your own home. What has a place, what holds memories, what can move on.
I decluttered the day after she died, because that’s a coping mechanism for me. But many people wait years to get rid of anything from a passed pet, and some never get rid of any of it at all.
Why don’t you tell me about your pet? The comment section is open for you.
I can start. My dog’s name was Duchess. She was a street dog I adopted as a teenager. She went through college with me, multiple moves, many life phases. She was smart, friendly, a quick read of people, and kind of creepy. Everyone fell in love with her as soon as they met her. Her favorite snack was potato chips, and her favorite thing to do was cuddle with her friends.
What about yours? Tell me in a comment. 💜
Memorialize as you go.
Before you pack up their bowls, you can take a photo of it. For example, I kept my dog’s mat, food, and water bowls in the kitchen. We’d usually eat together. I’m looking at her little nook now, and it’s empty. 🙁
Take photos of your pet’s little areas before you clear them out. Maybe you can even have one printed and framed to hang on the wall above the space. This can help ease that painful feeling that you’re erasing them by tidying up their old favorite spots.
You can keep space for the memory of your pet without letting their old stuff clutter up the new life you now have to build without them.

Start with the utility items.
With any decluttering project, I recommend starting with the items that carry less emotional weight. For a pet, this is probably items like grooming supplies, nail clippers, medications, extra food and treats.
Removing things that don’t hold the same sentimental value is an easier way to start the process, allowing yourself time with the things you do hold in higher regard, like their favorite toys, beds, or blankies.
And I think Duchess would be pretty happy to know that I got rid of her nail clippers. She really hated those guys.
You don’t have to get rid of it right now.
I found a comment on Reddit that said it best:
“Both of my 18 year old cats died in February, a week apart. I still have one of their litter boxes with litter in it, because you can see my girl’s little tippy taps in it and I’m not done seeing them yet.
Is it weird? Yes. Is it also what I need right now? Yes.”
Another comment in the same thread talks about converting an item into something more practical to keep in their house:
“It took me three years to get rid of a night gown I used to leave unwashed when I went away so my cat could smell me…I finally ended up cutting two small rectangles and sewing a hand sized pillow to put his little box of ashes and his first and last collar on.”
It’s okay to hold onto things that might seem odd to keep. Grief looks different on everyone.

Clean up.
Like we discussed earlier, maybe you take a few photos of the “pet mess” before you clean it (especially the little nose prints on your front window).
Clearing out the debris, lost fur, and messes can bring a newness and sense of peace to your space without actually getting rid of anything your pet loved.
Especially in my case, with a very elderly dog that required special care, I had a lot of messes to clean. I ran the washer and dryer for two days after she passed, catching up on the backlog of blankets and towels that I let pile up because I was prioritizing time with her.
I’ve always grieved through action–moving my body and feeling useful so the feelings don’t all hit at once. When a pet passes, the first thing I do is dig the hole to bury them. Like, immediately.
Cleaning is one of those physical tasks that don’t require a lot of mental or emotional effort, so it can be a good way to metabolize earlier waves of grief.
I call this passive processing–you’re interacting with the thing you’re grieving, but not so directly that the feelings overwhelm you.
Along with cleaning and decluttering, I’m also patching up beds, toys, and her mobility stairs so they can have another life in someone else’s home.
(Another example of passive processing is to write about your dead dog for your decluttering blog…)
Box it.
For items that hold memories and emotions–their favorite food dish, toys, collars–it’s okay to just box them up for now. Package it up neatly and put it away.
It’s nice to get those things out of sight for a time, let the shock and initial feelings of loss settle, then you can come back to them later when you’re more emotionally regulated. At that time, you might consider decluttering, but for now, you don’t need to rush anything.
This strategy also gives you an opportunity to see how you feel without those things around. You might realize that you really want a particular item to hold onto–maybe in a memory box, maybe on the mantel.

Cry about it.
While you declutter and clean, it’s okay to let the feelings hit you. Sob your way through it. Stop in the middle and go sit on the porch to cry. Get lost in a folder of photos of your pet. Bombard your friends with Snapchat memories of your dog (that’s what I’ve been doing).
You don’t have to muscle through this. There’s no rush.
Tidying and decluttering are a reflex for me. When I’m stressed or upset, it’s a comforting and accessible activity to turn to. That’s not true for everyone. It’s not even true for most people. If you’re someone who finds decluttering annoying, difficult, or emotionally dysregulating, don’t do it right now! Grieve your lost friend. The chores will always be there when you’re ready for them.
Donating things.
If you have another pet of the same species, it probably makes sense to keep and reuse most of the things.
If you plan to adopt or foster more little buddies, it probably also makes sense to keep stuff. If this is the case, I recommend boxing things up and putting them away until they’re ready to be used to give yourself some breathing space and reset your home.
If you know you won’t have a practical use for your pet’s old things, donating is an excellent option. It can lift your spirits to know your pet’s old items are going to better someone else’s life. If you can, it might be nice to keep it in the family or your local community. I’ll be giving most of my dog’s old things to my neighbor.
For the rest of it, local shelters are usually happy to receive unopened food and treats, beds, toys, and other items that are still in good condition.
Another idea is to use things outside. Maybe their old dishes would make excellent bird baths or waterers for doggies passing on the sidewalk, or their bed could provide a nice resting place for feral cats in your neighborhood.
Where to donate old pet prescription meds.
Many animal clinics will keep a box of donated meds for special circumstances, like if a family can’t afford them. This is a great way to declutter meds, especially for older and ill pets who may have tried many different medications toward the end of their life.
My dog had a few regular prescriptions, so I had several boxes on hand that I was able to donate to my vet clinic.
When you want it gone but can’t stomach throwing it out.
Sometimes we don’t want to keep old pet clutter. It might be bulky, stinky, or just useless and in the way. But when we look at it, we see our beloved friend curled up on it like they’re still there.
In cases like this, a practical option is to have a loved one take care of it for us. Get a trusted friend or family member to go to your house while you’re not there to take those items away for you. They might even hold onto it for a couple of days in case you change your mind. This is perfectly acceptable. It gets the thing out of your house without the sting of watching it go.
You don’t have to feel the full weight of every loss. Let your people shoulder some of that for you.

Grief demands a witness.
Decluttering your pet’s things is part of the process, and grief experts agree on one thing: grief demands a witness. We’re social creatures. Having someone sit with us through it–without trying to fix or rush anything–helps those feelings move through us instead of getting stuck in our chests.
So invite people in.
When it was time to put my dog down, when her quality of life was truly gone, I told my closest friends. Every single one of them showed up. They had loved her for years, too–some for well over a decade. She wasn’t just my dog. She was a part of our community and shared lives. My friends would randomly swing by to pick her up and take her on hikes or for slumber parties at their houses without me, just because. She was part of the crew.
The day she passed, we crowded into my small living room with the vet. Shoes kicked off. Hands folded awkwardly. No one knowing what to say.
I held Duchess as the sedative took effect, the familiar weight of her head in the crook of my arm. Her breathing slowed. Her eyelids drooped. When her head lolled back, I heard soft sniffling around me. I looked up and saw tears already streaming down my friends’ faces before I had even started crying myself. (Don’t worry, though, I caught up.)
When I scheduled the appointment, I briefly considered doing it alone. Just me and the vet. Fewer logistics. Less vulnerability. But I knew Duchess would want her people there. And I could tell she was calmer with the room full. Even though she was blind and deaf, she knew she was surrounded by the familiar love and familiar hands of her friends.
I’m so glad I asked them to be there. After she passed and the vet quietly left, I know I would have been frozen on the couch for hours, holding her until she went stiff. Instead, we moved together. I wrapped her in my hoodie that she’d just died in. One friend pulled his flashlight as the sun went down before we could build up the courage to cover her in dirt. We all cried. Later, we ordered pizza and sat on the floor, telling stories about her–sweet ones, funny ones, annoying ones, the little quirks that made her her.
If you’re struggling to declutter your pet’s things, invite a friend to sit with you. Let the stories come up. Let the tears happen. Grief doesn’t need to be efficient. It just needs to be shared. And having someone beside you can make even the heaviest moments feel a little more bearable.

Avoiding grief with distraction.
Avoiding grief by being “productive” is a really common coping mechanism. It’s easier to DO things than it is to sit with feelings. Sitting with feelings can be so intimidating for many, particularly those of us with emotional delays (like with autism 🙋♀️). Grief looks different for everyone.
I do want to say that it’s okay to want to stay busy in times like these, but it’s CRUCIAL to leave space to feel your feelings. If you find that you’re “okay” all day long, then the second you lay your head on your pillow at night, you’re torn up with despair and anxiety, then you’re probably doing too much avoiding.
If bedtime is the first time of the day that your brain and heart get a moment to process, your sleep will be disrupted, contributing to a nasty cycle of avoidance, exhaustion, and burnout.
So please give yourself some little moments throughout the day to be sad. Talk about your pet with your close friends. Make a sappy Facebook post. Write some bad poetry. Scream into a pillow. Cry and cry and cry–it’s okay.
Let those emotions process and metabolize so you’re able to rest and recover. And sometimes we’re just resting so we have the energy to be miserable again the next day. That’s okay, too. Ride the waves, honor your feelings. It’s okay to stay busy, but don’t stay SO busy that you completely block out very natural and correct emotions. Because those emotions WILL work their way out, some way or another. The less you resist, the quicker it can pass.
You’re not alone here. We’ve all gone through the loss of a pet. It’s sad, it’s horrible, and it’s okay.
I’m so sorry for your loss, and I hope you can find peace with your little friend’s passing. Going through their things and letting some of them go is an important step in grieving them, and in celebrating their lives.
If there’s any way I can support you in this time, or at any time, you can reach me at mi*@******************sm.com, and I’d be happy to do anything I can to help out. 💜