Anthropomorphism: Grief, Culture, and Meaning—Part 3

A cat is a person.

It’s a line from The Dick Van Dyke Show that has always made me laugh. In a brief exchange, one character says,

“A duck is a duck,” another agrees,

“That's right. A dog’s a dog,” and then comes the turn:

“And a cat is a person.”

It’s funny because it feels exaggerated, but it also feels familiar because in many ways, as pet owners, pet parents and pet caregivers, we have been doing this all along. We give our animals names, roles, and personalities and talk about them as if they understand us—and sometimes, as if they reflect us. For those of us who live closely with pets, the idea that they are “just animals” often doesn’t quite fit the reality of the relationship.

This big word, anthropomorphism, has been the focus of this three-part blog series.

And when the human–animal relationship is experienced through that lens—when an animal is not just a pet, but a family member, a companion, or even a part of who we are—the loss of that animal can feel deeply complex. It’s not about being an “animal person” or a “pet person.” It’s about understanding the meaning we place on that human-animal relationship.

Grief and the Weight of the Bond

Research has shown that grieving the loss of a pet can be comparable to grieving the loss of a human loved one, such as a spouse or child. One of the key factors contributing to this is anthropomorphism, which is the way we attribute human qualities, roles, and identities to our animals.

When animals are experienced not just as pets, but as family members, companions, or even as extensions of ourselves, the attachment deepens. And when that attachment is broken, the grief that follows reflects that depth. This is also part of what makes certain decisions, such as euthanasia, so complex. When an animal is understood through the lens of human personality and identity, the decision can carry a moral and emotional weight that is difficult to put into words. Grief, in this context, is not simply about loss, but about the ending of a relationship that held meaning in a deeply personal way.

More Than a Pet: Family

In my research, every single participant described their departed animals as family. The roles may have varied, but their status as family members did not. Pets were described as babies, sons and daughters, siblings to human children, and best friends. They were grandcats, granddogs, even cousins, woven into extended family systems in ways that felt natural, not forced.

For those who know the human–animal bond, this is not a new idea—it is recognized immediately. For those who love someone who lives that bond, it is often embraced. But for those who don’t understand, it can be difficult to fully explain, because it challenges a more traditional view of family that is often limited to human relationships. But family is not experienced the same way across all contexts. The culture, traditions, and meanings that shape family in my own experience—as a person of color—may look different from what is often considered the norm.

When we begin to see family through an interspecies AND cultural lens, something fundamental shifts. It can feel beautiful, expansive, and intuitive, but it also opens the door to more complex questions about meaning, identity, and belonging.

And this is where anthropomorphism continues to do its work within cultural experience. When a pet is not just a pet or animal, but a family member, the bond becomes more than relational. The pet becomes part of how we understand who we are—woven into family systems in ways that reflect culture, tradition, and lived experience.

Culture and the Meaning of the Bond

Recently, I came across an Instagram post from Ebony magazine that made me reflect on my work in elevating BIPOC voices in the human-animal bond space. It posed a playful but telling question: How does your pet “know” they’re Black? The "evidence" was convincing as responses were filled with humor—videos of people dancing with their dogs to hip hop, pet parents giving their pets “the look” many Black kids know well as discipline, and comments from owners saying, “I know my dog is Black.”

At first glance, it’s funny. But it also reflects something deeper.

Anthropomorphism does not stop at personality. It extends into culture.

In these moments, animals are not only seen as having human-like traits, but are understood as participating in the cultural worlds of the people they live with. They become part of shared expressions, behaviors, and experiences that carry meaning beyond the individual relationship.

And this has implications for loss.

A participant from my study reflected on the burial of their cat:

So we buried him, got a little incline or a hill out back for him, and they put little rocks so we’ll know where he is. And I think my kids played the Boyz II Men song, 'It's So Hard to Say Goodbye.'*

I don’t have to explain the significance of that song within Black culture, particularly in the context of funerals and loss.

But the point is this:

Grief may be universal.
But the way we experience it is not.

Because when an animal is not only part of our family, but also part of how we experience and express culture, the grief can deepen in ways that are not always immediately visible. It is no longer just the loss of a pet, or even just the loss of a family member. It can feel like the loss of something that held pieces of identity, memory, and lived experience and the loss of a witness to how we moved through the world.

Anthropomorphism helps us understand how we come to see our pets as more than non-human animals, how they become family, companions, and, in many ways, reflections of ourselves.

But as this expands into family and even culture, the meaning of the bond deepens. And so does the loss. Because when that bond is broken, we are not just grieving the ending of a relationship. We grieve the roles they held, the memories they carried, and the ways they were woven into our lives.

In some cases, we may even be grieving the loss of something that felt like part of our identity.

Or part of our culture.

And that is not always easy to name.

*The Song, It's So Hard to Say Goodbye is an R&B song written by American Motown husband-and-wife songwriting team Freddie Perren and Christine Yarian for the 1975 film Cooley High. In the film, the song is performed by Motown artist G. C. Cameron. The group, Boyz II Men recorded an a capella version of the song in 1991.