Honouring pets on Day of the Dead: a personal journey
For many, pets are more than just animals; they are cherished companions who share in our joys and sorrows. This sentiment resonates deeply with Leila Palacios, who, after the passing of her beloved cat Kai, found solace in the rich traditions of Día de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead. As she prepares to honour Kai with a heartfelt altar in her family’s living room, Palacios reflects on the profound bond they shared and the significance of remembering those we have lost.
Kai, Palacios’s cat, died last month after suffering from cancer. In an effort to feel his presence once more, she has set up an altar adorned with mementos such as the bear costume that Kai liked to wear, his chicken- and beef-flavoured treats, and the orange brush he enjoyed being groomed with. This year, the first night of Día de los Muertos falls on Monday, a day dedicated to honouring pets.
Mathew Sandoval, author of the illustrated book “Día de los Muertos: A Chicano Arts Legacy,” explains that the Aztecs, whose traditions inspired this holiday, believed dogs were sacred and could guide spirits in the afterlife. Fernanda Cortes, a social media influencer who shares videos about Latin history and culture, echoes this belief, particularly regarding Xoloitzcuintles, the Mexican hairless dogs.
“If you didn’t treat dogs nicely in your life, they wouldn’t help you in the afterlife,” Cortes said. “That’s how important they were.”
In recent years, more people have begun creating altars—known as ofrendas—specifically for their pets. Sandoval notes, “Honouring one’s pet, whether it’s a dog or another animal, is absolutely in keeping with the tradition of Día de los Muertos. For many of us who are pet owners, it’s hard to draw a distinction between losing the pet that we love and the people we love because they have truly become deep companions.”
Ofrendas typically feature photos of loved ones who have died, cherished objects, and favourite foods. They often include marigolds and candles meant to guide spirits back to the living for a day, along with bowls of water to quench their thirst.
Growing up, Palacios watched her grandmother build an ofrenda for family members every fall. When Kai died, she felt compelled to start her own tradition. She assembled an ofrenda on a mantel above the fireplace in her family’s Vallejo, California, home, where they often gather.
Palacios placed a photo of Kai lounging on his favourite black and orange blanket, which blended with his fur and made him difficult to find around the house. This ofrenda has helped her remember the cat who clawed at a box of tiny outfits until someone dressed him up and who jumped on the dining table to demand treats—not the cat who was sick for the last few months of his life.
At just 18 years old, Palacios will search for signs of Kai’s presence on Monday, but she has resolved to continue making an ofrenda every October, regardless. “It feels good to just remember the good times,” she said, “and to cherish the memories that you have with that person or that pet.”
In various communities, zoos, and animal shelters, collective ofrendas are created for people to post photos of their late pets. For instance, Seattle’s Woodland Park Zoo has assembled a community ofrenda near an entrance to honour its animals who have recently passed away, including a penguin named Her Majesty Gertrude Sprinklebottom and Alberto Sparklepants the peacock.
Sandoval explains that Día de los Muertos melds Mesoamerican rituals with Christian traditions introduced by Spanish colonisers. Even for those who do not observe these customs, he believes the holiday can provide a valuable avenue for grief. “You might be well-served to handle the grief of a pet the same way you would with the grief of a loved one,” he said. “And for many of us, that’s why it makes sense to include them on the ofrenda.”
In Chicago, Noemi Gomez watched TikTok videos last year of people creating ofrendas for their pets, thinking she wouldn’t need to make one for years. Her corgis, Paco and Pollo, were healthy and young. “When I got Paco, I was very sad and alone, and he came into my life and made it better,” said Gomez, 29. “I was never alone after he came home with me.”
Tragically, in May, Paco, just four years old, died after suffering from intervertebral disk disease, a condition that damages dogs’ spinal cords. In her first-floor apartment, Gomez assembled an ofrenda at a window in her living room where Paco enjoyed sitting and watching dogs walk by. At the top of the ofrenda is a picture of Paco with his right forepaw atop a soccer ball at a nearby park. It reminds Gomez of when she took the picture in 2022: Mexico had been eliminated from the World Cup, and she told Paco that he would play better defence than the team representing her parents’ home country.
Gomez placed an orange Kong ball on the ofrenda because Paco loved playing toss with it at a Chicago beach, squeaking it while Gomez was trying to work and hiding it in her shoes. On Monday, she plans to add Paco’s favourite treats: a vanilla and peanut butter cookie and salmon-flavoured kibble.
“It’s definitely just brought more of a smile to my face,” Gomez said about her ofrenda. “The colour is very vibrant, very alive, and seeing multiple pictures of him is a great way to remember him.”
While Gomez isn’t sure if she’ll feel Paco’s presence on Monday, she can envision him guiding spirits back to the living—the same way he led her to the living room when his Kong balls got stuck under the couch. “I would like to know that he knows that we still miss him,” Gomez said, holding back tears, “and that we haven’t forgotten about him.”
