What Do You Do With a Cat’s Body After They Die? Bringing Our Baby Cat Home

Hi, I’m Nicole! Read my introduction to learn more about me and my distinguished Burmese, Mr. Baby Cat.

If you’re reading this, I want to thank you. I feel your support even through the screen. I know that reading these types of articles can be hard, especially if you haven’t yet lost a pet. Avoiding the reality and living in the ignorant bliss that a pet will live forever was where I found myself from time to time. It’s quite confronting seeing your little baby get old. When it comes to humans, we see people older than us age, but we’re aging too. But with pets, they age so rapidly they go from being our babies to being our wise old grandparents in a fraction of our lifetime.

But we know this to be the reality as soon as we fall in love with our fur babies, whether we outwardly admit it or not, we know. If you are reading this because you have been through it, I’m so sorry, but thank you for sharing this journey with me. And if you have not yet been through it, please know that you are not alone. You’ve got a community here to keep you positive in the harder days, people who understand that your fur baby is not ‘just a pet’, and that the grieving takes time, and is different for all. If you want to share your story or leave any comments on this post, please feel free to message us here.

What to Do After the Death of a Pet

After we said goodbye, we were asked if we wanted to bring him home with us. We didn’t hesitate for a second, both my husband and I just said ‘yes please,’ the moment the vet asked, and we hadn’t even discussed it. Taking bodies home, human and animal, is far more common in New Zealand than it is in Canada where I come from, so the vet clinic was prepared for this response.

I have heard that many clinics do mass cremations and then can give you some ashes; some may do single cremations but I believe those cost a lot more; and many just dispose of the bodies themselves. There is no right way to do this, it will depend on the individual parent, but please ensure that whatever you do with your pet’s body once they’ve crossed the rainbow bridge, that it feels right to you. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t rush it. You can always take them home and then decide on cremation later, or take them back to the vet clinic. But don’t walk out without them if you don’t feel comfortable with it.

In New Zealand, especially within the Maori culture, it is common to keep the body of a deceased family member at home for a few days before the burial, to allow people to pay their respects and to help with the grieving process. While it may not be common practice in the West, even looked at as quite morbid, I can assure you that the openness to the death process is incredibly healing during the grieving process for those left behind.

I don’t know if we would have felt differently if we were living in a more urban setting or in Canada, but because we live on 25 acres of lush New Zealand forest, bringing our little man home to bury him here was the only option in our minds.

The vet clinic put him in a little box with a purple flower taped on top. Immediately, my husband and I felt a sense of calm. Purple was my late grandmother’s favorite color and it often appears for us in moments of grief when we need some reassurance, and it felt like a message that Baby Cat was already ok.

I didn’t cry when I held the box, I actually resorted to a bit of dark humor as we went up to pay for the procedure.

“Came in with two, leaving with one and a box!” I said. I was referring to coming in with our dog Mac who needed a checkup and Baby Cat. It wasn’t funny, but I laughed, and the receptionist looked at me in shock.

“I’m so sorry!” she said.

I let her know that it was OK, it was his time and we were just happy he wasn’t suffering anymore, and thanked them profusely for caring for our babies.

We got in the car and decided to go get a tree to plant over him, but as we arrived at the greenhouse, I told my husband I wasn’t ready to put him in the ground.

“We can’t keep him in the box if that’s what you’re saying!” he exclaimed.

I explained that I wanted to buy a huge pot and bury him in there and plant the tree on top, so if we were to move, we could take him with us.

“That’s going to be a big pot,” my husband said. And he was right.

Bringing Our Baby Cat Home

We brought our little man home and placed him in front of the fire. We planned to keep him there for a few days; we weren’t quite ready to say goodbye yet.

Our dog Mac was absolutely devastated, even growling at Rosa when she came near the box, which he had literally never done before. I will write about the dogs and their grieving process in an article of its own.

Rosa was just out of sorts and went and laid on Baby’s spot on the outdoor couch, which she also never did.

We placed our little man by the fireplace that afternoon, of course. That was his favorite place to be.

It felt calming. But when we lit the fire that night (it was probably too hot to have a fire but we lit it for him anyway), that’s when I lost it. I had opened the box to talk to him and held his cold little paw. The tears just poured out of me and I couldn’t stop them, my little Baby Cat. I felt the guilt, not that we euthanized but that I disturbed the natural process earlier in the morning, and that we didn’t take him in sooner. I cried for all the moments I was grumpy with him when he stood in my way and tripped me up to get my attention for more food, even though there was food in his bowl. I cried for all the times I took him off of me when I was pregnant, for leaving him when we went traveling, for not holding him tight one last time (even though he didn’t want to be held).

The tears flowed out of me like waterfalls for close to five minutes, and then, they stopped.

All of that senseless guilt washed through me and out my tear ducts. I suddenly was hit with all the love I had for him and reminded that he felt our love. I held his cold little paw again, and pet his head. I closed his box and sat with him by the fire. Baby Cat was home.