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A horse’s gentle eye in soft golden light — a quiet memorial portrait

You are not alone in this

Grief this deep is proof of a bond this real.

Losing a horse is one of the most profound griefs a person can carry — and one of the most misunderstood. The bond you shared was real. What you are feeling is real. And the days ahead do not need to be walked alone.

This page exists because we believe the care doesn’t end at collection. It never does.

Is what I’m feeling normal?

Yes. Almost certainly, yes.

Equine grief has a shape of its own. It is often invisible to the people around you, misunderstood by colleagues and family, and physically exhausting in a way that surprises even you. If any of the feelings below are yours right now — you are in very good, very quiet company.

Grief for a horse can feel isolating in a way grief for other family members rarely does. You may find that colleagues expect you back at your desk the next morning, that friends offer condolences that feel oddly small, that even people who know you well cannot quite meet your eye about it. It is not their fault — unless they have loved a horse, they cannot know.

It is also physical. Tight chest, the strange hollow in the stomach, sleep that does not rest you, appetite that disappears for days. Horse-people are used to being strong; grief often arrives as the first thing that stops you in your tracks. All of this is normal. All of this is the body doing what it was built to do.

I feel guilty.

Guilt shows up in almost every grieving horse-owner we meet. The “what-if” loop, the second-guessing of a decision you had only moments to make. Guilt is often grief wearing a different jumper — not a verdict on how you loved them.

I can’t stop crying, or I can’t cry at all.

Tears arriving at impossible moments — or refusing to arrive at all — are both completely normal. Some people weep for weeks. Others feel frozen for months and then collapse into it. Grief is not a performance.

I keep going out to the paddock.

The habit of looking for them is one of the hardest things. Walking to the paddock, listening for a nicker, counting heads at feed time. The body learns grief more slowly than the mind.

People don’t understand why I’m this upset.

People who have never loved a horse struggle to grasp the particular size of this grief. It is not “just a horse.” You are mourning a decade or more of early mornings, trust, and a presence that knew you.

I feel angry.

Angry with the vet, the weather, a bill, yourself, the horse for leaving. Anger in grief is love that couldn’t save them. It does not mean you are a bad person; it means you cared.

I’m relieved — and then I feel terrible about that.

If your horse had been unwell, or the decision was a long one, relief is normal. So is the shame that follows it. Relief does not mean you loved them less. It means the weight was real.

I can’t look at their photos yet.

Some people put the photographs away for a week, a month, a year. Others sit with them from day one. There is no correct timeline. Give yourself permission to close the tab.

I’m worried about my other horses.

Horses grieve too — in off-feed, in calling across paddocks, in sticking close to a new companion. Keep routines steady, watch for signs of colic in the first 72 hours, and call your vet if anything concerns you.

In fourteen years of doing this work, I have never once thought someone was grieving ‘too much’ for a horse. Not once. If you are here reading this, you are not broken — you loved well.
Alby Koster, Harbourside

The stages of grief

Grief is a tide, not a staircase.

You will not move through these in order. You will not visit them once. You may feel four of them in an afternoon and none of them for a week. They are not milestones to be ticked — they are weather that moves across you. Noticing them is the whole point.

01

Shock & Disbelief

The first hours and days often feel like watching yourself from a short distance. You may feel numb, oddly calm, or unable to think past the next hour. This is the body protecting you. Eat something; drink water; let someone else make the larger decisions.

02

Denial & Searching

Your legs still walk to the paddock. You still count heads at feed time. You hear a nicker that cannot be theirs. The searching is not a malfunction — it is the body learning what the mind already knows.

03

Anger

Anger with the vet, the weather, yourself, the bill, the universe, the horse for leaving. Anger is grief with nowhere to go. Let it move — in a long walk, in a drive alone, in a shouted sentence in an empty paddock.

04

Guilt & Second-Guessing

The what-if loop. Could I have spotted it earlier? Should I have called sooner? Almost every grieving horse-owner we meet spends time here. Be kind to the version of you who made decisions in crisis.

05

Bargaining

A quieter stage, often missed. You replay the last year. You make deals with a god you may not even believe in. Let it move through you. It is the mind looking for a door that no longer exists.

06

Deep Sadness

The stage that lasts the longest. Flat, heavy, slow. You can function but you cannot quite feel. It is the soul absorbing the size of the loss.

07

Acceptance

Not a cure. Not forgetting. Not “moving on.” Acceptance is the quiet re-arrangement of your life so that there is now a room in it shaped exactly like them.

When grief may need professional support

Grief has a shape, but if you are not eating or sleeping properly after four to six weeks, if you cannot function at work or in caring for those who depend on you, if the thoughts are turning dark or the world feels hopeless — please speak to your GP, call GriefLine on 1300 845 745, or phone Lifeline on 13 11 14. Asking for help is not a sign your grief is wrong. It is a sign you are looking after yourself.

“Grief is not a problem to be solved. It is love, looking for somewhere to land.”

Finding Support

Help is closer than it looks.

There is no single right place to turn for help. Some people need a counsellor. Others need a walk with a friend who also knew them. Some need both. Below is a starting point — helplines, communities, and reading — all vetted by our team.

Professional Support

  • Australian Centre for Grief and Bereavement

    1800 642 066 · grief.org.au — free counselling, referrals and fact sheets.

  • GriefLine

    1300 845 745 · 6am–10pm weekdays · free, confidential, Australia-wide.

  • Beyond Blue

    1300 22 4636 · 24/7 — for when grief overlaps with depression or anxiety.

  • Lifeline

    13 11 14 · 24/7 — for any moment of crisis, day or night.

  • Your GP

    The quickest door to professional help. Ask for a Mental Health Care Plan for up to 10 rebated sessions.

  • Psychology Today Australia

    psychologytoday.com/au — search “pet loss” or “grief” in your postcode.

Community & Peer

  • Pet Loss Support Australia (Facebook)

    A moderated, compassionate group. All species welcomed; horse owners well represented.

  • Your pony club or riding club

    Quietly staffed with people who have been here before. Most will simply listen.

  • The Compassionate Friends

    tcfa.org.au — many chapters include pet-loss support groups.

  • 13YARN

    13 92 76 · 24/7 — crisis line staffed by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander counsellors.

Reading & Listening

  • It’s OK That You’re Not OK

    Megan Devine. The single most quoted book in our clients’ hands. A gentle rewriting of what grief is for.

  • H is for Hawk

    Helen Macdonald. Not horses, but the most honest book ever written about loving a large animal.

  • Griefcast podcast

    Cariad Lloyd. Funny, warm, clear-eyed interviews about grief in all its shapes.

  • Terrible, Thanks for Asking

    Nora McInerny. Honest stories of loss and what life looks like afterwards.

  • Our full reading list

    Download our 4-page curated list of books, podcasts and long reads further down this page.

An open offer from Alby

If you need someone to talk to, call me.

We’re not counsellors. We’re not therapists. But we have sat with hundreds of families in the exact place you are in now — and we can usually help you work out what the next small step might look like. There is no fee, no time limit, and no expectation. If I’m with a family when you call, leave a message and I will phone you back, often within the hour.

Call Alby — 0493 814 474

Helping others through it

When they are grieving, and you are too.

Grief rarely belongs to one person. The people around you — children, partners, staff — are often quietly grieving alongside you, and looking to you for a signal about how to feel. Here is how to offer one, without spending what you do not have.

Be honest. Be age-appropriate. Be available.

Use real language — “died”, “death”, “body” — and avoid softer euphemisms like “went to sleep” or “we lost him,” which young children take literally and can find frightening. Tell them once, clearly, and then be ready to tell them again.

Expect questions, including startling ones.

“Does it hurt when you die?” “Will you die?” These are healthy questions, not worrying ones. Answer the question that is asked, simply and directly. “I don’t know” is a completely acceptable answer.

Give them a way to say goodbye — if they want one.

Many children find comfort in a practical role: choosing a flower, tucking a note into the halter, grooming them one last time, or drawing a picture. Others cannot bear to be there. Both are right.

Watch for signs grief is getting stuck.

Most children find their way through with family love and time. Please speak to a GP if sleep or appetite is severely disturbed past three to four weeks. Kids Helpline (1800 55 1800) is free and 24/7.

Free downloadable resources

Seven resources — written with care, shared freely.

Each of the guides below was written by our team at Harbourside, drawing on the families we sit with and the clinicians we work alongside. They are free to download, free to print, free to share. Tell us where to send it.

Most loved
34 pages · PDF

The Harbourside Grief Journal

A gentle companion for the days after losing your horse

A gentle companion for the days after losing your horse

  • Five chapters, 30 writing prompts
  • Guided “letter to your horse” exercise
  • “Letter to future-you” closing prompt
  • Gentle preface and closing notes from Alby
Request a copy
6 pages · PDF

What To Do When Your Horse Dies

A practical, compassionate checklist

A practical, compassionate checklist

  • First-hours checklist
  • What to consider before collection
  • Aftercare decisions — questions to ask
  • Paperwork, insurance and notifications
  • Caring for your remaining horses
Request a copy
8 pages · PDF

How To Talk To Children About Losing a Horse

Age-by-age guidance for parents, guardians & instructors

Age-by-age guidance for parents, guardians & instructors

  • Words to use / words to avoid
  • Age-by-age guidance (under 5, 5–8, 9–12, teens)
  • Should a child be present at the end?
  • Rituals that help children remember
  • When to seek extra help
Request a copy
12 pages · PDF

50 Ways To Honour Your Horse’s Memory

Tender, practical, creative ideas — from the simple to the lifelong

Tender, practical, creative ideas — from the simple to the lifelong

  • Daily rituals (8 ideas)
  • In your home (8 ideas)
  • In the landscape (8 ideas)
  • Creative tributes (8 ideas)
  • Legacy & giving (8 ideas)
  • For the children (8 ideas)
Request a copy
4 pages · PDF

Equine Grief — A Reading & Listening List

Books, podcasts and long reads that have helped

Books, podcasts and long reads that have helped

  • Books on loving and losing horses
  • Grief books horse-people quietly love
  • Children’s titles (5 picks)
  • Podcasts and audio essays
  • Free online articles and fact sheets
Request a copy
5 pages · PDF

Finding Professional Support

A practical directory for Australians grieving a horse

A practical directory for Australians grieving a horse

  • Crisis helplines (GriefLine, Lifeline, Beyond Blue…)
  • How to find a therapist in Australia
  • Medicare Mental Health Care Plan explained
  • Peer community groups
  • What to expect from a first session
Request a copy
Most loved
16 pages · PDF

Your Horse’s Life Record — Memory Keeper

A fillable keepsake to record a life, one page at a time

A fillable keepsake to record a life, one page at a time

  • 16 pages of fillable fields
  • Guided sections from first day to final chapter
  • “The people who loved them” pages
  • “A letter to them” closing section
  • Printable at home, single-sided
Request a copy

Every guide is free. Tap “Request a copy” and we’ll email the PDF straight to you, usually the same day. No newsletters, no follow-ups unless you ask.

Honouring their memory

Fifty ways to give love somewhere to go.

There is no right way to honour a horse. There are only many small ways that feel right for different people at different times. Read slowly. Skip anything that doesn’t fit. Take the one idea that finds you.

Daily rituals

  • Light a candle at dinner on their birthday and the anniversary.
  • Keep their halter on the tack-room hook — it does not need to be put away.
  • Touch their photo on the fridge each morning; a fingertip is enough.
  • Walk the paddock fence line at sunset once a week.
  • Say goodnight to them, out loud or silently.
  • Wear a bracelet or ring with a strand of tail hair.
  • Pour one extra coffee and drink it slowly, thinking of them.
  • Carry a polo mint in your pocket on the hard days.

In your home

  • A framed photograph on a mantelpiece, not a hidden shelf.
  • A shadow box: rosette, bridle-numberplate, horseshoe, photograph.
  • A single dedicated shelf — urn, horse book, candle, dried flower.
  • A commissioned portrait in oil, watercolour, or pencil.
  • A printed photo-book of their life.
  • A ceramic cast of a hoof, ear, or muzzle.
  • Cleaned old tack hung as artwork in the hallway.
  • A chair by the window they liked to look through.

In the landscape

  • A tree planted in their paddock or a friend’s garden.
  • Ashes scattered under the tree you plant.
  • An engraved stone marker at the fence line.
  • A memorial bench where they used to graze.
  • A rose bush named after them.
  • A plaque at your pony or riding club in their name.
  • A scatter of wildflower seed that blooms each spring.
  • A stone cairn built by the children who loved them.

Creative tributes

  • A quilt stitched from old saddle blankets and ribbons.
  • Jewellery made with a hoof-cast or tail-hair braid.
  • A poem, song, or short piece of music in their name.
  • A zine or children’s book telling their story for family.
  • A painting of the paddock without them.
  • A stitched sampler with their name and dates.
  • A pottery urn or keepsake made by you or a local maker.
  • A yearly anniversary tribute post — one story each year.

In their honour

  • A donation to a horse rescue or sanctuary in their name.
  • Sponsorship of a rescue horse for a year.
  • A bursary for a young rider at your pony club.
  • A perpetual trophy or ribbon in their name.
  • Rugs and grooming kit passed on to a rescue or young rider.
  • A donation to equine research — colic, laminitis, wherever needed.
  • Monthly volunteering at a sanctuary or disability-riding centre.
  • A paddock tree planted via Landcare in their name.

For the children

  • A “life book” — photos, stories, hoofprints — built over a year.
  • A painted horseshoe hung above their bed.
  • A memory jar filled with small happy-note slips.
  • A soft toy horse that looks like theirs.
  • A shared bedtime story that includes the horse.
  • A yearly visit to their favourite paddock or trail.
  • Passing on their bridle when the child is ready.
  • Saying their name, out loud, whenever the child wants to.
The people — and horses — we love become the light we walk in.
A note left in a Harbourside journal after a scattering