“Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23).

The day my precious “Baby” Pebbles died—February 29th, 2024—was one of the saddest, most difficult days of my life. I have since wondered if God, in his sovereign will, allowed my little girl to die on the one day of the year that does not have a yearly anniversary. I can imagine that my loving heavenly Father, knowing the significance I give specific days, would want to help alleviate that potential annual pain. 

But from the very next day, March 1st, I have a happy memory, and that is of Pebbles’ funeral. I am so thankful for the beautiful, tearful but joyful service that honored my adorable Pebbles’ almost sixteen years long life. All aspects of the service seemed to simply and naturally come together, but I would also believe my “Father of compassion and the God of all comfort” orchestrated every detail, working his love through the kindnesses of my family (2 Corinthians 1:3). I’m also grateful for the healing that the service began in me. 

Because of the “beauty” that God brought out of my “ashes,” I want to share seven aspects of her service in hopes they might be helpful to other hurting hearts, also grieving the death of a beloved animal (Isaiah 61:3). If that describes you, friend, I hope and pray any or all of these ideas would provide comfort, inspiration, and even healing as you honor and celebrate your precious pet.

1. Decide on a location. The night Pebbles died, my eldest son offered to walk around our backyard with me the next day to choose a spot for Pebbles’ grave. After we did so, my son then dug the hole where we would later bury Pebbles. (Yes, I will forever appreciate my son’s thoughtfulness and true labor of love.)

2. Choose when your service will be. I wanted as many of my family members present as possible—for Pebby was their dog, too—so we held Pebbles’ funeral that afternoon, around 3 o’clock. I’m thankful it was a beautiful, mild day, as in Colorado it could have been blustery or freezing.

3. Have flowers for each person to hold. These flowers need not be anything glamorous or store-bought; my daughter, unbeknownst to me, had walked around our yard before the service and picked little dried “flowers” that somehow, I think with God’s miraculous touch, looked like a bouquet of dried wildflowers. (Being from Colorado, I happen to love wildflowers.) Remember, it was March 1st, so these “flowers” were leftovers from winter but they were lovely to me—partly because my daughter had so kindly picked them, and partly because they came from our yard in which Pebbles’ spent her whole life. The point is that each one of us held a flower during the service and, at the end, lovingly placed it on Pebbles’ body before she was buried. 

4. Read aloud a liturgy. Again, this was my daughter’s idea, and I will always be grateful. From Douglas McKelvey’s Every Moment Holy, Volume I, I chose “A Liturgy for the Loss of a Living Thing.” I highly encourage reading a liturgy as it formed and guided us through most of Pebbles’ service, providing space for everyone to share his or her own special memories and words. This is where laughter and smiles entered the picture as every one of us remembered Pebbles’ hilarious and adorable ways. (If there are people unable to attend the service—like one of my sons who was in college in a different state—you can also get any memories or words they’d like to share beforehand so those may be voiced as well.)

5. Read Scripture and sing songs. My husband read Lamentations 3:19-24 (which we had chosen before the service), and then we all spontaneously sang “Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” “He Is Good,” and “Jesus Loves Me”—three songs special to our family. Read and sing whatever is uniquely significant to you and yours. If you need ideas for Scriptures or songs, you can find many on my blog. 

6. Pray. When singing is complete—which can be for as long or as short as you would like—open a time for anyone who desires to pray, knowing in advance who will close. In our case, after giving ample time for others, I said the closing prayer.  

7. Final loving touches. For the whole service I had been holding Pebbles, wrapped in a soft and cozy baby towel I had used for my kids. I think only by God’s grace was I able to gently place my precious Pebbles in the hole in the ground. Everyone then put a little dirt around or on her body, along with the flowers we had been holding. Once we all felt finished, my eldest son did the majority of the burying, which I couldn’t have done and again deeply appreciated. I remember kneeling on the ground, loving Bolt, my beloved Beagle, who was so sweetly there and I’m sure grieving the loss of his constant companion of the last fifteen years as well. I don’t remember how I or we all left the service; I just remember being back up in my bedroom soon after and journaling about the events of the last two days. I was exhausted.

I didn’t expect this, but Pebbles’ funeral really became a celebration of her life. The service gave closure. There was laughter, there were tears, and most importantly, my adorable Pebby was honored. Her very full life and the wonderful love she gave and that we shared were dignified. 

Pebbles was and always will be part of our family—for me, a dearly loved and deeply missed part of our family, like my son Ben, Bolt’s mom Bella, and now as I write a year and a half later, even Bolt. But for me, it’s comforting that Pebbles is buried right in our backyard, right beside Bella (and now Bolt), and just beyond our family room door, where I can see “where she is” every day. 

Pebbles’ funeral felt perfect and gave me joy. As I still miss her precious and fun presence everyday, I hold that grief and the joy of her life the best I can this side of heaven. I am so thankful for all seven aspects of her service and hope, if ever needed, they might be a blessing to you, too.

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).