How to write about them without “getting it wrong”
The truth is: you don’t need perfect words. You just need the moments only you remember — the tiny rituals, the nicknames, the ordinary days that meant everything. This is a simple way to write that kind of truth without freezing up.
that’s usually love trying to do justice.”
In this post
Why “perfect words” aren’t the goal
When people say they don’t know how to write about their pet, what they usually mean is: “I’m scared I’ll shrink them.” Like a few sentences couldn’t possibly hold a whole life.
But your job isn’t to capture everything. Your job is to capture recognition. The tiny truths that make someone reading whisper, “Yes. That’s exactly them.”
Don’t try to write a tribute. Write a moment. Moments stack into a life.
The 3-bucket method: rituals, nicknames, ordinary days
If you feel stuck, stop trying to “write a story” and use three small buckets instead. You can write a few bullet points under each and you’re done.
Bucket 1: Tiny rituals
What did they do over and over — so often it became part of your home’s rhythm? The waiting by the door. The after-dinner patrol. The way they insisted on being tucked in.
Bucket 2: Nicknames & language
The names you called them when no one was listening. The silly voices. The words that meant “walk,” “treat,” “bath,” “bed.” This is where their relationship shows up, not just their appearance.
Bucket 3: Ordinary days that meant everything
Not the special occasions — the Tuesday afternoons. The nap in the sun. The quiet companionship while you cooked. These are the moments you miss because they were the definition of “always.”
That’s not “getting it wrong.” That’s you finding the real place the love lives.
Prompts that actually unlock memories
Try answering just one prompt at a time. Keep it short. You’re collecting sparks.
Finish the sentence. Don’t explain. Just name the ritual.
Describe one look: “Are we going?” “I’m guilty.” “I trust you.”
Write it exactly how you said it. Spelling doesn’t matter.
Where were you? What were they doing? What did it feel like?
A couch corner, a mat, a sunny patch, a beach, the foot of your bed.
Patience. Joy. Routine. Softness. Coming home.
How to make it sound like you (not a poem)
If writing feels forced, write the way you’d tell a friend. Use short lines. Use fragments. Use lists. You’re allowed to be simple.
Use “because”
“I loved them because…” is a shortcut to truth. The reason is usually a specific behaviour. And behaviour is where personality lives.
Use “every time”
“Every time I…” reveals routine. Routine reveals bond. “Every time I opened the fridge…” “Every time I sat down…” “Every time I came home…”
Use one scene, not a summary
Instead of “They were the best dog,” write: “When I cried, they pressed their head into my hand like it was their job.”
It won’t sound like a eulogy. It will sound like your life.
If you want help turning those moments into a memoir
u&me uses guided prompts to pull out the rituals, nicknames, and ordinary days — then we curate your photos, gently enhance them, and arrange everything into a story-first digital pet memoir (plus a premium album). Not perfect words. True ones.
If writing brings up grief, go slow. A single sentence today is still love.