By Calvin M. Amato, CCO, CPC
Published in the December 2024 Issue of Memento Mori 

The day I met Harley will forever be etched in my memory like a cherished photograph. It was a crisp autumn evening when I pulled up to the tiny farmhouse nestled in the countryside. The gravel crunched under my tires as I parked, my heart racing with anticipation. A friend of mine was giving away puppies, and she had promised to hold the last one for me. Little did I know that this moment would mark the beginning of an extraordinary journey that would change my life forever.

In the days leading up to our meeting, my friend had been showing Harley my photo, hoping to familiarize him with me. She told me he would lick her phone screen as if trying to reach out to the stranger who would soon become his closest companion.

As I walked up the worn stone path, the scent of fallen leaves and pending snow in the air, I heard the pitter-patter of tiny paws before I saw him. Suddenly, a little ball of fur came bounding around the corner of the house. Harley, as if recognizing me from those pictures, ran straight to me with an energy that seemed to defy his small size. His tail wagged so hard his whole body shook, and he began showering me with affectionate licks. In that instant, I was hooked, my heart captured by this tiny animal who seemed to already know me.

Our journey home that night was the first of many adventures. The walk from the parking lot back to my dorm room was inexplicably dotted with marshmallows. Harley, ever the curious, attempted to sample each one. I found myself alternating between laughter and gentle scolding as I tried to keep him from ingesting the sugary treats. It was a fitting introduction to his insatiable appetite for life and everything edible and non-edible, including socks.

Over time, I was there for all his firsts—his first swim at a friend’s pool, the nights I would stay up comforting him through his first puppy nightmares, and rushing him to the vet when he managed to get a shin bone stuck around his lower jaw. Each of these moments, from the thrilling to the terrifying, was a reminder of Harley’s zest for life and exploration. He approached everything with an enthusiasm that was infectious, teaching me to find joy in the simplest things.

The Making of a Beautiful Relationship

Harley would eventually transform from a mischievous Scrappy Doo lookalike into a miniature version of myself, both in stature and spirit. His expressive side-eye when pouting could rival any teenager’s, and his exasperated sighs when things didn’t go his way were eerily similar to my own.

One of the most endearing aspects of Harley’s personality was his greeting ritual. Every evening, without fail, Harley would welcome me at the door, always with a toy (sometimes two) in his mouth. I would have to acknowledge his offering before he would set it down and jump all over me in excitement. Some days, after particularly long or stressful hours at work and school, this simple act of love and excitement was exactly what I needed to shake off the day’s troubles.

These moments, filled with unconditional love and pure happiness, became the cornerstone of our bond. He wasn’t just a pet; he was my confidant, my stress-reliever, my adventure buddy, and often my reason for smiling. He saw me through good times and bad, his presence a constant comfort in an ever-changing world.

When the Tide Changes

Harley had always been the picture of health, which made the sudden onset of his illness this past spring even more shocking. When he began coughing up blood, I initially clung to optimism, hoping he had simply swallowed something he shouldn’t have. However, my family and I knew we needed to seek professional help, and so began our frequent visits to the veterinarian.

Initially, we were reassured multiple times that Harley’s symptoms were nothing more than allergies. Each round of steroids seemed to bring temporary relief, with Harley appearing to improve for a time before slipping back into coughing fits and lethargy. As a death doula, I recognized these bursts of energy as his body’s way of fighting to hold on, but I couldn’t bring myself to fully acknowledge what it meant. After all, Harley was only 7 years old—far too young, I thought, for anything truly serious.

As time progressed, our trips to the vet became more frequent and increasingly costly. Despite our concerns, including a sore on his paw that looked suspiciously cancerous, the veterinarians consistently dismissed our worries. It wasn’t until months later that masses were finally discovered in Harley’s lungs. However, we were told that a biopsy to confirm cancer would cost thousands of dollars—a steep price for a diagnosis I was already all but certain of.

The night everything changed, I received a call from my mother, with whom Harley had been staying for quite some time due to my erratic schedule. “I think this is it,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. I immediately jumped in my car and rushed to her house. There, I found Harley laying on the floor, his breathing labored. As I approached, his tail wagged slightly—a small gesture that spoke volumes about his unwavering affection, even in his weakest moments.

As he coughed up blood, I gently cleaned his mouth and spoke softly to him. Our animal companions deserve compassionate care, especially in their final moments. After about half an hour, Harley looked at me with those same brown eyes that had captured my heart years ago, then tried to bury his head beneath pillows, reminiscent of a wounded woodland creature seeking shelter in its final moments.

But this wouldn’t be the end yet. Harley’s restlessness and pain prompted us to take him to the emergency vet that evening to see if it was time to put an end to his suffering, where we were once again presented with options that felt more like impossible choices. We could pursue expensive diagnostics and treatments, costing thousands of dollars, or take him home to try one last miracle drug and live out his remaining days, which could be anywhere from days to months.

The vet, like many doctors in American medicine for both humans and animals, seemed to push for life-prolonging measures rather than advocating for a peaceful transition. This approach, while sometimes well-intentioned, often fails to consider the quality of life and dignity in death that our pets deserve.

We chose to take Harley home, understanding that his time with us was limited. About a week later, it became clear the end was truly near. The vet finally agreed this time that putting him to sleep would be the best option. On the night before Harley’s scheduled euthanasia, I visited him at my parents’ house as I would not be able to attend his final appointment due to prior self-imposed obligations to my mortuary school. Despite not having moved from his spot on the couch all day, Harley mustered the strength to get up when I arrived.

In a poignant echo of our nightly ritual, he brought me a toy, the igloo-shaped chew toy I had always jokingly called the Death Star due to its uncanny resemblance to the Star Wars superweapon. It was the last toy he’d ever bring me, a final act of love and connection that broke my heart even as it filled me with gratitude for our years together.

Leaving him that night, knowing what was to come, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I told him I loved him and that it was okay to let go, knowing that, somehow, he understood.

Time for Disposition

When it came time to make decisions about Harley’s final care after his passing, I found myself drawn to a unique option that resonated deeply with both my scientific curiosity and spiritual inclinations.

Three hours from my home, a funeral home offered alkaline hydrolysis (aquamation) for pets. The environmental benefits of this process were appealing, but it was the symbolism that truly captured my heart. Just as many animals, including humans, begin life in the watery environment of the womb, alkaline hydrolysis offers a poetic return to water at the end of life.

In my own experience with Harley, the decision to choose alkaline hydrolysis was influenced by this symbolism. The idea of water death resonated deeply, creating a beautiful irony for a dog who had spent most of his life wary of water. It felt like a final adventure, a peaceful return to an elemental beginning.

With Harley’s earthly remains by my side, I couldn’t help but reflect on how he would have reacted to such a long car ride in life—probably with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. Now, he was embarking on his final trip, and I was determined to make it meaningful.

Upon arrival, the warmth of the funeral director brought me great solace. Their compassion was evident as they explained the process and, to my surprise, offered me the opportunity to participate in Harley’s aquamation from start to finish.

This level of involvement was something I hadn’t anticipated, but it felt right. They also provided me with the chance to take paw prints, a tangible memory I knew I would cherish.

As I went through each step of the process, I found an unexpected sense of peace washing over me. There was something deeply cathartic about being so intimately involved in Harley’s final care. It allowed me to feel connected to him even as I said goodbye, turning his final disposition into a profound act of love.

The economic aspect of this choice was surprisingly manageable. The private aquamation costs only $125, a figure that struck me as remarkably affordable for such a personalized and meaningful experience. I had also chosen to purchase an urn online for $70, one that I felt truly reflected Harley’s spirit. All told, the entire deathcare bill came to just under $200.

This experience opened my eyes to the possibilities within pet deathcare. It showed me that there are options available that can be both economically accessible and emotionally fulfilling. The relatively low cost didn’t diminish the value of the service; if anything, it enhanced it, proving that meaningful farewells don’t have to be financially burdensome.

As I left the funeral home, Harley’s aquamated remains secure in the urn, I felt a sense of completion. This final act of care, this last adventure we shared, had provided me with a sense of closure I hadn’t known I needed. In choosing this path less traveled, I had found a way to honor Harley that felt true to our journey together—unique, a little unconventional, and filled with love to the very end.

Pet Deathcare Evolves

In recent years, the pet deathcare industry has undergone a profound transformation, one that mirrors the changing dynamics of the human-animal bond in our society. No longer relegated to the backyard or the barn, pets have become integral members of our families, sharing our homes, our daily lives, and our hearts. This shift in perception has catalyzed a revolution in how we approach the end-of-life care and memorialization of our beloved animal companions.

The market has responded to this cultural shift with remarkable agility. Where once the options for deceased pets were limited to backyard burials or basic cremation, today’s pet owners can choose from a diverse array of services and products. From personalized urns and memorial jewelry to dedicated pet cemeteries and even taxidermy, the industry has expanded to meet the emotional needs of grieving pet owners.

The drivers behind this growth are multifaceted. Increased pet ownership plays a role, certainly, but the willingness of pet owners to invest significantly in end-of-life care is equally important. This willingness stems from a deepening of the human-animal bond, facilitated by changing living patterns, delayed parenthood, and an increased recognition of the emotional and health benefits that pets provide.

As we look to the future, several trends are poised to shape the trajectory of the pet deathcare industry. Environmental consciousness, a growing concern across all sectors, is making its mark here, too. Ecofriendly options like alkaline hydrolysis and biodegradable urns are gaining traction.

These methods appeal to pet owners who wish to honor their companions while minimizing their environmental impact.

Technology, as in many industries, is set to play an increasingly significant role. Virtual memorial services, already popularized by the global pandemic, are likely to become a staple offering, allowing friends and family from across the globe to participate in remembrance ceremonies.

QR code plaques on urns or gravestones could link to online tributes, creating enduring digital memorials that can be updated and visited from anywhere.

Personalization, already a strong trend, is expected to intensify further. Pet owners may soon have access to even more bespoke options, from custom-designed memorials that capture a pet’s unique personality to DNA keepsakes that preserve a tangible link to the departed companion.

Perhaps one of the most intriguing developments on the horizon is the emergence of specialized pet loss professionals. Akin to human death doulas, these individuals are trained to guide pet owners through the entire end-of-life journey. As a death doula who has expanded services to include pet end-of-life care, I’ve witnessed firsthand the profound impact this specialized support can have on both pets and their owners.

The principles of compassionate care, emotional support, and dignified farewells that are central to human death doula services translate seamlessly to the realm of pet loss, providing comfort and guidance during an often-overwhelming time. From helping people through difficult decisions to arranging final services and providing grief support, we could fill a crucial gap in the current pet care landscape.

For traditional funeral homes, this evolving landscape presents both a challenge and an opportunity. By expanding into pet deathcare services, these establishments can meet a growing need while also building meaningful relationships with their communities. They can leverage their existing expertise and facilities to offer a range of services, from cremation and memorialization to grief support specifically tailored for pet loss.

Moreover, by embracing pet deathcare, funeral homes position themselves at the forefront of industry innovation. They can explore new technologies and trends in memorialization that might later be applied to human services. This expansion not only makes business sense but also aligns with the funeral industry’s core mission of providing compassionate care during times of loss.

As we contemplate these developments, it’s crucial to remember the emotional core at the heart of this industry. Behind every statistic, every trend, and every innovation are countless stories of love, companionship, and loss. Each urn represents a wagging tail stilled, each memorial service a purr silenced. The growth of this industry is, at its essence, a testament to the depth of the bonds we form with our animal companions.

For many, the loss of a pet is akin to losing a family member. It leaves a void that can feel insurmountable, a silence in the home that echoes with memories. The evolution of the pet deathcare industry is not just about providing services; it’s about acknowledging and honoring the profound impact these animals have on our lives.

As we look to the future, we see an industry poised not just for economic growth, but for a deepening of its fundamental purpose. It stands ready to support pet owners through their darkest hours, to provide dignity and respect to the animals who have given us so much, and to help preserve the memories of the joy, love, and companionship that these remarkable creatures bring into our lives.

In the end, the pet deathcare industry is about more than just saying goodbye. It’s about celebrating the unique bond between humans and animals, about creating lasting tributes to the companions who have shaped our lives, and about finding ways to carry their love forward, even after they’re gone.

As this industry continues to evolve, it will undoubtedly play a crucial role in helping people navigate the complex emotions and practical challenges that come with losing a beloved pet, ensuring that the love we share with our animal companions is honored, remembered, and cherished for years to come.

Calvin M. Amato, CCO, CPC, blends science, compassion, and innovation in his multifaceted death care career. As a funeral director-in-training at Koch Funeral Home and student at Pittsburgh Institute of Mortuary Science, he’s mastering traditional practices while exploring modern approaches. Additionally, Calvin’s expertise spans assisting with autopsies at Mount Nittany Medical Center and serving as a brain recovery specialist for Boston University CTE Center, seamlessly bridging conventional and contemporary methods. His role as a death doula further enhances his holistic approach to end-of-life care. Committed to lifelong learning, Calvin continuously develops thoughtful solutions to enhance 21st-century funeral services.