Desk Lite

I have a beautiful greyhound named Mango, and she is the bee’s knees. I walk her every day. I feed her every day. She sits with me while I work, and we hang out together just enjoying each other’s presence. She is a massive part of my life and my daily rhythm. When she’s sick, I take her to the vet. When she’s not feeling great, I give her extra love and attention. She is more than a pet. She is family.

And when the day eventually comes that she passes, I know I will be an absolute blubbering mess. I cannot even bring myself to imagine what that day will feel like. But what’s even harder to imagine is the idea that I will be expected to show up to work and carry on as if nothing has happened. That I’ll be told it’s just a dog. That I’ll be expected to push through the heartbreak as if her absence won’t leave a gaping hole in my life.

One of the most overlooked issues in workplace policy is how little recognition pets receive when it comes to compassionate or bereavement leave. Under Fair Work, compassionate leave covers immediate family or household members. Pets are not included. The system treats them as if they are completely irrelevant to our emotional wellbeing, even though for many of us, they are some of the most important beings in our lives.

A pet is never just a dog. It is never only a cat or simply a rabbit. Pets are our companions, our comforters, and our confidants. Some pets are with us for decades. Twenty years is a long time to share your life with someone, and when that bond is broken, it hurts in the same deep way any grief does.

Now, I know some people will argue that two days of compassionate leave for a human family member is already too short. And they might be right. But that is not the point I am focusing on here. The point is that pets are not included at all. There is no space given to that kind of loss. No time. No acknowledgment.

For some people, their pet is their closest relationship. In some cases, a pet is their only family. So how can we reasonably expect someone to do their best work when they are grieving the loss of the one creature that made them feel loved, safe, and seen?

If you have ever had to put a pet down, you’ll know how incredibly hard it is. It’s often scheduled in advance, and that looming date sits heavy in your chest. It is not a holiday. It is not a day off. It is the slow heartbreak of saying goodbye to a friend, knowing that when you return home, there will be an empty bed, no paws to greet you at the door, and a silence that was never there before.

And yet we sweep it all under the rug. We pretend our animals never existed because work must go on. But what if work could pause for a moment, just long enough for people to catch their breath? What if we allowed for grief that doesn’t fit neatly into the current policy boxes?

Pets are part of our families, our routines, and our lives. It is time workplace policies reflected that reality.