When my dog died when I was ten, I didn't handle it well. My new parents had him for years before they adopted me, so he was pretty old and it wasn't a painful death. But having lost so much over the years, after dealing with the loss of my parents and living in an orphanage, it affected me more than it should have, and for a few days I just shut myself off from the world, wondering why being attached to things was worth it, if they only left after a while. Eventually, I was able to beat the funk, but for a while I was pretty miserable.