When Tyson the cat passed away, the young people in our care taught us something powerful about grief, compassion, and how even in loss, childrens homes can be places of healing.
Loss is never easy. In the quiet corners of a childrens home, where emotions already run deep and connections mean the world, the passing of a beloved pet can echo louder than words can express.
At Welcare, we recently lost Tyson, the resident cat of Bentleigh House. He wasn’t just a pet. He was part of the family. Soft-furred, wise-eyed, and always ready for a cuddle or a curious wander, Tyson had a calming presence that many of our young people gravitated to, especially on the tougher days.
When Tyson died, it hurt. It hurt in that honest, unfiltered way children feel things. There were tears. There was silence. There were quiet stares out the window and brave efforts to hold it together. But what happened next was something profoundly beautiful.
One young person stepped forward. They didn’t want Tyson’s life to end without being recognised. “He deserves a funeral,” they said. Not as a request. As a truth.
So we honoured that truth.
The Ceremony
A small gathering took place in the garden. Staff and young people worked together to prepare a resting place, mark it with care, and say their goodbyes. There was no script. No plan. Just honesty.
Memories were shared, from the time Tyson curled up beside someone having a bad day to the way he always knew when you needed company. A poem was read. Flowers were laid. The air was still, but not heavy. Just full of feeling.
For many of the young people in our care, life has included goodbyes that came too soon or too suddenly. Grief isn’t new. But what made this moment different was choice. They chose to feel. They chose to remember. They chose to lead with compassion.
Why It Mattered
Grief in childrens homes isn’t theoretical. It’s lived. It shows up in small behaviours, big emotions, and the deep need to be seen. Saying goodbye to Tyson gave space for all of that – not just the sadness, but the love.
Some of the young people created a memorial stone. Others drew pictures or wrote little notes. One simply stood with a hand on the tree nearby. There was no one way to mourn. And there was no rush to move on.
More Than a Pet
Pets in childrens homes often become more than companions. They are quiet listeners, consistent presences, and non-judgemental friends. They offer what so many of our young people crave: calm, closeness, and care without conditions.
Tyson did all that and more.
In his own way, he helped us teach about empathy, responsibility, and gentle connection. His funeral taught something else: that even in sorrow, there can be unity. Even in grief, there can be growth.
Honouring Grief in Childrens Homes
Not every childrens home has a Tyson. But every home carries the responsibility to acknowledge loss when it happens – whether it’s the loss of a pet, a person, or even just the idea of what childhood was supposed to be.
What happened at Bentleigh House wasn’t just about a cat. It was about giving our young people permission to feel. To lead. To care. And to be cared for.
As a team, we learned just as much as the young people did. That a burial in the garden can mean more than words. That grief doesn’t have to be hidden. And that healing, real healing, happens when we show up with compassion.
Tyson may be gone, but his legacy lingers. In the way the garden feels a little more sacred now. In the way our young people speak a little more openly. In the way staff listen more closely when emotions stir.
This is what childrens homes can be. Not just places of shelter. But places of meaning. Of memory. Of mourning and of mending.
Goodbye, Tyson. Thank you for everything.
