Sharing your life with a pet brings thousands of wonderful days — and one of the hardest days you may ever face, when the time comes to say goodbye.
When a beloved animal has crossed the Rainbow Bridge, it is time for the body to be laid to rest through burial or cremation.
In this post, you will find answers to the questions most animal lovers prefer not to think about until they must decide how their companion’s body should be cared for.
Burial of Small Pets
Unlike human burials, you often have more freedom when choosing where and how to bury your beloved friend.
A coffin or shroud is not required
Burying the body in a coffin — homemade or purchased — can feel caring and dignified, but it is just as acceptable to wrap the body in cloth or a sheet.
Whenever possible, choose biodegradable materials that are gentle on nature.
If it feels more natural or appropriate to place the body directly in the earth without a coffin or wrapping, that is also an option.
Using a box or blanket can make handling and transportation to the burial site easier.
Choosing a resting place
You may bury your pet on your own property. If the ideal resting place is located on someone else’s land, you must first obtain the landowner’s permission.
There are also dedicated pet cemeteries throughout the country if you would prefer a more traditional gravesite.
Important: Regulations for pet burials may vary between municipalities, such as required burial depth or distance from residential buildings. Always check the rules in your local municipality, usually available on the municipality’s website.
Cremation of Small Pets
Cremation also offers several choices regarding what you would like to do with your pet’s ashes — keep them, bury them, or scatter them.
Individual and communal cremation
If you wish to have your pet’s ashes returned to you, you should request an individual cremation.
A communal cremation means several animals are cremated together. Their ashes are then scattered or buried by the crematorium in a memorial garden or another peaceful natural setting.
An urn is not required
Just like with burial, an urn is not necessary when burying ashes.
An urn or container can be beautiful and meaningful, but the most important thing is choosing what feels right for you.
The ashes are returned from the crematorium in a plastic container. If you plan to bury them, please consider transferring the ashes into a biodegradable container for the sake of nature.
(The ashes are completely safe to handle. They resemble lightly soot-colored fine gravel.)
Burial or scattering of ashes
You may bury or scatter ashes on your own property or on someone else’s land with the landowner’s permission.
If you wish to scatter ashes elsewhere, permission from Länsstyrelsen is generally not required, but you should always consult the landowner or municipality first. Choosing a time and place that respects others increases the chances of approval.
Important: Rules regarding burial or scattering of pet ashes may vary between municipalities. Always check local regulations through your municipality’s website.
Keeping the ashes at home
You may keep the ashes at home if you wish.
When returned from the crematorium, the ashes are placed in a plastic container inside a simple cardboard urn.
Many pet crematoriums offer beautiful urns made from ceramic, wood, glass, or metal.
There are also many urns available online if you prefer not to make one yourself.
Before Burial or Cremation
When a veterinarian performs euthanasia, they can often assist with arranging cremation and transportation to the crematorium.
If your pet passes away at home, or if you prefer to arrange cremation yourself, the body can be stored in a dark, dry, and cool space such as a basement or garage. Smaller animals may be placed in a box, while larger animals can be wrapped in a tarp or blanket to prevent leakage. Many pet crematoriums also offer collection services.
If you wish to wait until the ground has thawed before burial, storing the body in a freezer is recommended to prevent decomposition.
If you are unable to store your pet’s body yourself, contact your veterinary clinic — they can often help or guide you to appropriate services.
My cats and dogs were given a communal cremation. It may sound impersonal, but to me it felt comforting that they were cremated alongside a new pack until we meet again.
My aunt chose an individual cremation for her cat and placed the ashes inside a large stuffed animal — a unique and beautiful idea, in my opinion.
How have you chosen to say goodbye to your beloved pets? Or how do you think you might do it when that inevitable day comes?
A short story with Quinley & Herrow
Who are Quinley and Herrow?
In Coffinfolk Café’s stand alone short stories, you’ll meet two most unlikely friends:
Quinley – Coffinfolk’s café host. A young woman who loves life just as much as she loves exploring the cultural heritage of death and sharing advice, information, and insights that can help people – whether they are facing their own encounter with Death or living with grief.
Herrow – Death himself. He may look frightening in his black cloak, but beneath the bones is a kind soul who enjoys a cup of coffee and sharing experiences gathered from every corner of time.
You can find a longer introduction + a short story about their first meeting HERE
“The Garden Panther’s Final Rest”
Narrated by Quinley
Bibbi — or Baron von Schnurrheim und Tassendorf, as he was properly named — had not been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. On a gloomy autumn evening, he had been found in a box abandoned by the roadside far outside town.
It was pure luck, coincidence, or Fate itself that Cissi was the one who found him. From that day on, she became a proud member of his court, and her home was henceforth his duchy.
I was among the fortunate few who were not merely tolerated but also granted the privilege of petting the aristocrat clad in black fur.
His life may have begun in poverty, but he was fully aware of his status and expected nothing less than treatment befitting near royalty, despite the great betrayal of his former owner.
Years passed, and Bibbi ruled his subjects with equal measures of wisdom and justice.
That dreadful turquoise armchair I helped Cissi drag home had clearly been begging to serve as a scratching post, much to her despair. Bibbi also kept the number of flies and spiders to a minimum — who knew, perhaps they were spies from foreign powers?
During summers, Bibbi indulged in stretching out across the lawn, drinking in the sunlight, or embarking on pleasure hunts in the bushes. He never caught anything; it seemed the watching and stalking were the true delight.
Sometimes, when Cissi and I sat outside drinking coffee, I would feel someone watching me. Hidden among the green leaves, only a pair of yellow eyes could be seen peering from the shadows.
“My little garden panther,” Cissi would coo when Bibbi padded forward, once again becoming an ordinary house cat with an impressive title, demanding to be scratched behind his left ear. Woe to anyone who dared begin behind the right.
Eventually came the conversation I had long dreaded. Cissi could no longer ignore that Bibbi had become an old gentleman. A few teeth had been removed, his eyesight was failing, and stiff joints made it increasingly difficult to play panther. Cissi helped him with grooming, and it was obvious this was beneath Bibbi’s dignity.
When Cissi asked me to be there when the veterinarian came to give Bibbi his final injection, my answer was an immediate yes.
Outside the window, the spring sun shone and small birds sang. We sat on the living room floor, Bibbi purring in Cissi’s lap. She squeezed my hand so tightly I felt the small bones grind together, but I did not complain. At my other side sat Herrow, a silent and reassuring presence.
As the veterinarian prepared the syringe that would send Bibbi to the foot of the Rainbow Bridge, Herrow whispered to me:
“Would you like to see something magical?”
I was the only person in the room who could see Herrow, so I answered with a small nod. The Reaper placed his bony hands before my eyes. At first I wanted to push him away — I didn’t want to miss Bibbi’s final moments — but strangely, I could see perfectly well through the gaps between his fingers.
Bibbi didn’t react to the needle. He continued to purr like a small sewing machine beneath Cissi’s gentle hand. Then something happened. Something magical.
I saw a luminous, shimmering shape of a cat rise from Bibbi’s body, stretching as if after a long nap. It looked toward something beside the veterinarian. Another Herrow.
The figure leapt lightly, climbed the dark cloak, and settled on Herrow’s shoulder. I could almost hear the Reaper chuckle as the cat purred, bumping its forehead against his cheekbone and rubbing along his jaw while its tail curled around his neck like a thin scarf. Herrow raised a hand and scratched the cat behind its left ear.
They turned away together and dissolved like smoke from a candle just blown out.
Herrow lowered his hands from my face. I stared at him wide-eyed, my own hand covering my mouth so I wouldn’t accidentally say something impossible to explain to my grieving friend and the veterinarian.
I helped Cissi wrap the body in cloth before we placed it inside the small coffin she had ordered from Gustav, a man who had, quite by chance, become known as a coffin maker within Coffinfolk.
The coffin was carried down to the garage, where it rested until the burial the following day.
Gustav had also offered a burial place in the forest he owned. When Cissi saw photographs of the spot, it had felt perfect for Bibbi.
As we approached the site and Cissi saw the freshly dug grave, everything suddenly became real in a different way. She burst into tears and clung to my shoulders. I tried to hug her back while still holding the coffin.
Without being asked, Gustav stepped forward and gently took the coffin into his arms.
“Take all the time you need,” he whispered, stepping a short distance away.
After a few minutes, Cissi felt ready to continue.
We played music from my phone while Gustav and I lowered the coffin into the earth.
Cissi read a beautiful farewell to her beloved friend, and I added a few of my favorite memories of Bibbi — including my hope that he would receive a brand-new dreadful turquoise armchair to destroy every day, which made Cissi laugh.
Together we filled the grave again. Gustav then retrieved something he had hidden behind a tree.
“I, uh… I took the liberty of making this based on Quinley’s description of Bibbi. You can replace it with something of your own later, of course.” He held out a wooden grave cross bearing a painted portrait of Bibbi, half hidden among green leaves.
“It’s perfect. Rest in peace, my little garden panther,” Cissi sobbed, giving Gustav a tight hug.
I felt a familiar cool, bony hand rest on my shoulder.
“Who knows,” Herrow murmured, “if you come here one day and feel someone watching you, it might be a forest panther observing from his hiding place.”
“Mhm. The moose has competition as king of the forest now,” I whispered back, just as something rustled in the bushes behind me.