Should You Go or Stay? How to Decide About Holiday Travel When You Have an Elderly or Chronically Ill Pet

When the invitation came, my first reaction wasn’t joy, it was anxiety. Who could give multiple dogs the right meds twice a day? Would Murphy spiral without me there? And Pumpkin, sweet, stubborn Pumpkin, how would she eat without all her usual routines (and my hundred little tricks)?

The holidays are “supposed” to feel magical. But when you're caring for a sick or aging pet, that invitation can feel like a storm cloud rolling in. Before excitement even shows up, your mind is already spinning with logistics. I’ve been there, sitting with the guilt, the worry, and the kind of love that makes even simple decisions feel enormous.

If you’re trying to figure out what’s best for both you and your pet, here are some gentle, real world questions to help you pause, reflect, and make a choice grounded in what truly matters to you.

How stable is your pet’s condition day to day?

This can tell you a lot about whether travel feels realistic or risky. If their appetite, energy, or mood swings from day to day good one moment, disoriented or not eating the next, predicting how they’ll do while you’re away becomes much harder.

A pet with fairly steady routines and predictable behavior may tolerate short separations better. But when those patterns start to fluctuate, it’s usually a sign they depend heavily on familiar rhythms and your presence to stay grounded.

Do they have specific medications or conditions that require close monitoring?

The last time we traveled, I remember feeling almost embarrassed by how long the care instructions had become. Pumpkin had morning and evening meds, two eye drops, and her own special food. Murphy had a daily pill case plus anxiety meds “just in case.”

And Minnie... Minnie had an entire decision tree. She needed daily ear drops, pills three times a day, and a backup allergy medication if her symptoms flared. I found myself writing things like, “If she does A, give her X. But if she does B, try Y. And if she refuses both… text me.”

And this doesn’t even include the song and dance I do for meals. Minnie insists on eating on her specific pillow. Pumpkin, blind and living with dementia, often forgets she’s eating and wanders off mid-meal. And the other dogs will happily “help” themselves if you don’t stand guard.

By the time I finished writing it all out, I realized I wasn’t leaving instructions, I was leaving a flowchart for a small, high-needs care facility.

If your pet’s care looks anything like this, that’s important to factor in. Pets with complex medical routines usually do best with someone who knows their patterns, understands their little quirks, and can recognize when something feels “off.”

Is there a trusted caregiver who truly knows your pet’s routines and quirks?

Familiarity matters more than most people realize. We once had a sitter who didn’t know our dogs well. When one didn’t come to greet her, she assumed the dog was being shy. In reality, she had injured her back and couldn’t walk. By the time we returned, her condition had worsened, and on Christmas Eve we found ourselves at an emergency vet facing the unthinkable.

Since then, I’ve learned that having someone who knows what’s normal for your pet, how they walk, eat, breathe, behave, can truly make the difference between catching something early and missing it entirely.

Can you take your pet with you?

It’s natural to think, If I can’t leave them, maybe I should bring them. But for some pets, that ends up being even more stressful.

Pumpkin is blind and has dementia, so a new environment with unfamiliar sounds and smells would be completely disorienting for her. Max tends to pick fights with other dogs and chase cats so staying with family members who also have pets wasn’t an option unless he was crated the entire time. And Murphy’s separation anxiety means he’d likely bark nonstop in a hotel or unfamiliar house anytime we stepped away.

Realistically, everyone would’ve ended up stressed and overstimulated (including me) just to “make it work” and that wouldn’t have been fair to them.

But for some families, bringing the pet really is the easier choice. If your pet does well in a crate, adapts easily to new environments, travels comfortably, or would be staying with people who don’t have pets of their own, then taking them along might reduce stress rather than add to it. Every animal has a different nervous system, and every family has different resources.

The point isn’t that one choice is better than the other. It’s about taking an honest look at what your specific pet needs to feel safe and what you realistically have the capacity to manage. (Yes, we matter too!) For some pets, being with you is soothing. For others, the safest and kindest option is staying in familiar surroundings with someone you trust.

Could you do a short trial run before committing to longer travel?

After losing Janie on Christmas Eve, we were terrified to travel again. When we finally decided to try, we took it slow. We planned a tiny, 24-hour trip, just one night away, only three hours from home, with a sitter who had vet-tech experience. That small step helped us rebuild some trust in the process: trust in the sitter, in the plan, and in ourselves.

Your version of a “trial run” might look different. It may not be an overnight trip at all. It might simply be leaving the house for several hours or half a day to see how your pet (and your nervous system) respond. A short trial run can give you valuable information about how your pet adjusts, how your sitter communicates, and how your own anxiety settles once you have real data instead of just worry. Sometimes it confirms that staying close is best. Other times, it shows that with the right support, small steps toward travel can feel doable again.

Check Your Own Emotional Readiness

Will you actually enjoy the trip?

Some people can relax once they’re gone. Others spend the whole time checking cameras, texting the sitter, and mentally counting the hours until they’re home again. Be honest with yourself.

When we traveled for a family wedding, it was meaningful, a chance for my son to meet relatives and for us to celebrate something joyful. I also knew it would be an emotionally safe trip; I genuinely enjoy my in-laws (I know, shocking), so it felt worth it. If it had been a high conflict family event, my decision may have looked very different.

Sometimes the question isn’t just “Can I go?” but “Will I have the capacity to actually be present?”

The truth is, not every event or invitation deserves the same weight. Reflecting on your own values, what kind of connection, peace, or meaning you’re hoping to create can help you see whether the trip aligns with what you really need right now, or whether it’s just an old sense of obligation whispering that you “should” go.

Why does it feel so hard to leave?

Since the start of the pandemic, our relationships with our pets has shifted in ways we don’t always think about. So many of us now work from home or have partners who do which means we’re able to monitor and care for our elderly or ill pets in ways that just weren’t possible before. Our pets (and honestly, we) have gotten used to being together almost all the time. Many of them can’t even remember a world where we were gone all day, and that kind of steady togetherness is simply how we live now.

And honestly? We’ve adapted to them, too. Their routines regulate us. Their presence anchors our nervous system. So when travel comes up, it’s not just our pets who feel unsettled, we do too. That doesn’t mean you’re overly attached. It means your bond has depth.

Be honest with yourself: will the trip be harder on your pet, or on you? Sometimes it’s both.

Which would you regret more?

Would you regret staying more than you’d regret going? That’s one of those gut check questions that can help you see what matters most. Sometimes, the thought of missing a once in a lifetime moment, a wedding, a graduation, a reunion carries its own kind of ache. But if it’s the same holiday gathering you’ve been to every year, the one that usually leaves you more drained than fulfilled, it’s okay to acknowledge that too. You might decide that being there, even with some worry, is worth it or that this is the year to give yourself permission to skip the chaos and stay where you’re needed most.

Other times, the regret runs deeper when we picture not being home if something happened. For many pet parents, that quiet fear sits in the background, the “what if” that never fully goes away after you’ve experienced loss before. Both kinds of regret are valid, and neither makes you a bad person or a bad pet parent.

The key is being honest with yourself about which outcome you’d carry more peace with. If staying home would bring relief and a sense of alignment with your values, then it’s the right choice. If going would bring connection, meaning, or renewal, and you’ve set things up so your pet is in capable hands, that’s okay too. There’s no perfect answer here, just the one that lets you look back and feel, “That choice came from love, not guilt.”

What does your gut say?

Trusting your gut doesn’t make you anxious or irrational. It usually means you’ve lived through something hard, and your body is trying to protect you from ever feeling that way again. If you’ve ever come home to find your pet suddenly worse, or lost them while you were gone, of course travel feels heavier now. Experiences like that stay with us, even when the circumstances this time are different. It can help to pause and ask yourself, “Am I reacting to what’s in front of me, or to what happened before?” Neither answer is wrong, they just give you more clarity about what you need.

You’ve earned the right to listen to that instinct. If something in you says, This doesn’t feel right, you don’t owe anyone an elaborate explanation. You can simply say, “I need to stay close this year.” And if your gut tells you it’s okay to go, that you’ve put the right supports in place and you’ll be able to relax, trust that, too. There’s wisdom in both directions. The goal isn’t to erase fear, but to let experience guide you toward what feels most peaceful and aligned with how you love your pet.

How do I hold boundaries and managing guilt?

One of the hardest parts of choosing to stay home is handling the reactions from people who just don’t get it. You might hear, “Just board them!” or “They’ll be fine for a few days!” It’s okay to set the boundary and still feel some guilt. You might truly wish you could go. Maybe part of you misses the version of life where travel felt simple. That’s the grief talking, the loss of freedom that comes with deep caregiving. You can honor that sadness without letting it steer your choices. You can say, “I know you want me there, and I wish I could be. But right now, being home with them is what I need to do.” Sometimes, no matter how carefully you explain it, family or people who just aren’t “pet people” won’t understand. And that’s okay. But it helps to remember that there are people who do. There’s a whole community of pet parents who would completely understand if you missed a major event because you couldn’t travel. They get that staying home isn’t about being dramatic or overly attached, it’s about protecting someone vulnerable who depends on you.

If you decide to stay…

If you decide to stay home this year, try creating new traditions that feel meaningful for both you and your pet. Maybe it’s a slow morning with your favorite music playing while they nap beside you, or a walk through the neighborhood lights before curling up on the couch together. You can still mark the season in ways that feel special, even if they look different from what everyone else is doing.

It’s also okay to grieve what you’re missing the connection, the shared meals, the little moments with family and still find comfort in the quiet presence you’re gaining at home. There’s something calming about being exactly where you’re needed, even if no one else sees it. Love often means doing the unglamorous thing: cleaning up messes, giving meds, or sitting in stillness beside a fragile body that once ran full speed to greet you. Those small moments of care may not look like much from the outside, but they hold a depth of love that no trip could replace.

Ask for Support

Sometimes you just need a space where someone gets how deeply you love your animals and how heavy the decisions around their care can feel. Therapy can be that space. Instead of pressure or judgment, you’ll find room to explore the mix of love, worry, and guilt that often comes with caring for an aging or ill pet.

If this blog resonated with you, I’d be glad to offer a free 20-minute consultation so you can see if I might be the right fit to support you through this season whether you’re navigating difficult choices, grief, or simply trying to care for your pet (and yourself) with a little more compassion.

Dr. Christine Henry is a licensed psychologist and long-time animal lover. She specializes in supporting fellow “Pet People” who are navigating trauma, grief, religious trauma, neurodivergence, or are highly sensitive people.

Pictured here is my current crew, from left to right: Max, Benji, Dogtor Murphy, Minnie, and Pumpkin. They’re the heart behind my work and a big part of what inspired this blog. So much of what I shared comes from both my own experiences and the stories my clients bring into the therapy room and being trusted to sit with people through these tender, complicated moments is one of the great honors of my work.

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FAQ: Common Questions When You’re Deciding Whether to Travel With a Senior or Ill Pet

• How do I know if it’s safe to leave my senior or sick pet during the holidays?

  Start by looking at their day-to-day stability. If their eating, mobility, mood, or medical needs fluctuate a lot, or they rely heavily on your presence to stay regulated, travel may add unnecessary stress. Consistent routines often matter more than we realize.

• Is it okay to cancel travel plans because of my pet?

  Yes. Caring for an elderly or ill pet is real caregiving, and sometimes that means saying no to trips or events. You’re not being dramatic, and you don’t owe anyone an apology for protecting a vulnerable animal who relies on you.

• What if my family doesn’t understand why I’m not traveling?

  You can set a boundary kindly and clearly:
  “I know you want me there, and I wish I could be. But right now, being home with them is what feels right.”
  Some people won’t understand, and that’s okay.

• Should I bring my pet with me instead of leaving them home?

  It depends. Some pets travel well, adjust easily, or do fine with family who have no other animals. Others, especially those with blindness, dementia, anxiety, or medical needs, may become overwhelmed. It is possible that the most loving choice is the one that keeps their world steady, whether that’s staying home or coming with you.

• How do I choose the right pet sitter for a medically fragile pet?

  Look for someone who knows your pet’s patterns or is experienced with medical needs (some vet clinics keep a list of trusted sitters). A sitter who is very connected to animals and recognizes subtle changes, pacing, appetite shifts, bathroom habits, is worth their weight in gold.

• How do I know if my anxiety is about my pet’s needs or my past experiences?

  Ask yourself: “Am I reacting to what’s happening now, or to what happened before?”
  Both answers are valid. If you’ve experienced a crisis while traveling, of course it feels harder now. Give yourself space to separate today’s reality from old fears, without judging either.

• Should I feel guilty if I choose to stay home for my pet?

  Guilt just means you care and wish you could meet everyone’s expectations. But caregiving comes with tradeoffs. Choosing what aligns with your values and your pet’s wellbeing, is not selfish.