Early this morning, my baby had her first experience of death and for me, it was the first time witnessing those final moments. Hopefully, the very last.
We woke up to find her pet bunny, whom she fondly named Sherry Pops, lying helpless in her cage. A position we had never seen before. She was breathing heavily, and for a brief moment I felt a little relief, thinking it might just be an illness, especially since we had not noticed any signs of her being unwell in the previous days. But as I watched more closely, trying to figure out how to help, I noticed her struggling to breathe, her body shifting while she passed stool. With the little knowledge I have of what happens when a soul departs, I instinctively began reciting “Laa ilaaha illallah.” Honestly, I didn’t know whether it would mean anything for an animal, but I felt compelled to say it, hoping that somehow, hearing it might ease her pain until she stopped breathing .
Breaking the news to my daughter was incredibly difficult, and watching her reaction broke my heart even more. I thought that as a child she might not fully grasp the finality of death, but she cried so deeply. Her grieving came in waves. From tears to blaming her father for not watching the bunny-care videos she had asked him to, to questioning why we didn’t get two bunnies like she wanted, and why we never considered taking Sherry Pops to a vet.
We used the moment to explain death to her and remind her that Allah does as He wills. We tried to help her understand that no matter how much we loved Sherry Pops, Allah loved her more, and even if we had done everything she wished, when it is time for a soul to leave, nothing we do can stop it. She had an exam and we worried the sadness would weigh on her day. But, as children often do, she found comfort quickly. We gave her something she loved and it helped lift her spirits before school, though the sadness returned when she came back home.
Knowing how deeply one can be affected by the loss of a pet, I’ve always avoided having any after caring for some abandoned kittens in the past who died a few weeks later, until we had Sherry Pops. Now, I’m the one feeling down because she’s no more and I’m being warned that if I let it affect me too much, we won’t be permitted to have another one. I couldn’t help but share a tear.
How do those of you with pets deal with their losses? This is my second time and it feels terrible. I’ve been questioning myself for perhaps, not doing well enough.

