The kind vet who helped Lulu cross over into the next realm provided us with a brochure on pet loss. As I flipped through a section called The Pet Lover’s Code by Dr Alan Wolfelt stood out to me. It is a series of “rights” you have when navigating the death of a pet, and I thought they would translate well as tarot prompts. I’ve modified the original concepts slightly, you can view them as Dr Wolfelt originally stated them here.
I’ll share reflections on the cards I pull for myself using the Considerate Cat Tarot. And perhaps you can try these tarot prompts for yourself if you’ve faced your own experience of pet loss.
What do I need to know about my right to grieve my pet?
How can I talk about my grief?
What do I need to know about the variety of emotions I’m feeling?
How can I accept my grief outbursts?
What do I need to know about my limits at this time?
What rituals can serve me?
How can I embrace my spirituality through this loss?
What meaning is available to me at this time?
How can I treasure my memories?
How can I move towards my grief and heal?
I have the Six of Swords for what I need to know about my right to grieve. The imagery here brings to mind the importance of rest. The past month of multiple vet visits, administering medications, and agonizing over when to make the decision to let Lulu go to her final resting place were stressful and exhausting. In the picture here we have a cat curled up amdist the swords. The aftermath of the stress is still echoing, but for now there is an opportunity to rest. Resting is always a right, but especially in times of grief.
The Five of Cups gives advice on how I can talk about my grief and this is one of those times where tarot feels so on the nose. A card about grief – perhaps THE card about grief – comes up for how to talk about grief. You have to love it. The cat here looks over the cups, some of which are filled with lively blossoms while some wilt. This lets me know I can talk about my grief by being honest about all angles of it. The gratitude for what I had and the sorrow for what I lost can co-exist.
Tying into this, I have the Son of Cups to elaborate on what I need to know about the variety of emotions I’m feeling. This cat reaches into a cup filled with hearts. This reminds me that every single emotion I’m feeling ties back to one root – my love for Lulu. The emotions may vary widely but they all come from a single source.
How can I accept my grief outbursts? Son of Swords. The cheeky look of this cat tells me to have a sense of humor about my grief. Grief outbursts don’t always look like breaking down in tears. They may look like bursting into song. In fact, the other morning I caught myself singing one of my made-up songs about Lulu without even realizing I was doing it. I would sing it to her every day and apparently it is now etched into my psyche and it just came out. That did make me chuckle, and it was a grief outburst.
The Eight of Pentacles represents what I need to know about my limits at this time. I really feel this is reminding me to focus on one thing at a time. I’m never great at multitasking but even less so in difficult times. Put my phone on silent. Make to do lists. Get what I can get done, focus on the task at hand completely, and don’t get ahead of myself.
Judgement is here to suggest rituals that may serve me. I’m delighted by the imagery of the jumping and playing cats. I like to think that on some energetic level, Lulu is now frolicking with Nanners, the cat I lost a few years ago, and all my childhood pets, and the pets my friends have lost, and so on. Perhaps a simple ritual is just envisioning this. Maybe closing my eyes and picturing happy Lulu frolicking with all her friends is ritual enough.
How can I embrace my spirituality through this loss? Son of Wands. So many sons! This cat appears happy and energetic, full of the life force of the wands suit. And that life force is eternal, just as Lulu’s life force is. In her final weeks she spent most of her time napping in the sun, just as the cat here embraces the sun. Maybe now some of Lulu’s eternal life force is available to me. Perhaps I can embrace my spirituality by picturing her infusing me with some of that bright sunny energy.
What meaning is available to me at this time? Ten of Swords. Ha! This is a surprising card to see here but also kind of… welcomed? I feel like this cat is saying “I don’t want to state a specific meaning right now! Leave me alone!” And that is part of grief. At times you’ll know exactly what this experience means to you. At other times you’ll feel like it is just meaningless pain. That’s okay. This card reminds me if meaning arises naturally that’s great but I don’t have to force myself to find it.
The Five of Pentacles suggests how I can treasure my memories. I have to admit this is the first card I didn’t immediately resonate with. The best I can come up with right now: perhaps this card is a reminder to actively conjure the good memories. Bad memories tend to sear themselves into our bodies and repeat on a loop. I need to make an effort to step as fully into the happy memories as well.
Finally, the Two of Swords suggests how I can move towards my grief and heal. Once again, a card that clicks perfectly. One sword could represent each portion of this inquiry: moving towards grief, and healing. It’s not that they are totally separate but there is a push and pull. Going deeper into a heavy sadness, then finding levity. Being pessimistic and upset but then finding hope and optimism. I have to embrace contradictions.
Thank you for reading, and give your fur babies some extra pets and cuddles for me today!