Can You Fake a Soul? AI Images In Pet Memorials Posts

There’s a kind of sadness that clings to the air when someone says their dog has died.

You stop scrolling. You feel it. The weight of love lost - even if it wasn’t your dog. Maybe it looked like yours. Maybe you just know what it means to lose something that loved you more than it loved its own food.

So you click like. Or heart. Or comment “sending love.” You mean it. Because you’re human.

But what if the person who posted didn’t mean it?

The New Grift: Fake Pets, Fake Memorial Posts, Real Tears

There’s a new trick making the rounds. Especially on Facebook, where the digital streets are lined with AI-generated empathy and secondhand grief.

Someone posts a beautiful dog portrait. A vizsla with eyes like melted honey. “Today would’ve been Buster’s 12th birthday. I miss him more than words.” Or, “Just said goodbye. Please hug your dogs a little tighter tonight.”

But Buster never lived. Not in flesh. Not in fur. He is an algorithm’s creation. A well-crafted lie wrapped in heartstring-bait. No paw prints in the sand. No chewed couch cushions. No smell of wet dog and sunshine.

Just data. Just fiction.

And just like that, they’ve hijacked your kindness.

When Beauty Becomes a Mask

AI-generated dog portraits are eerily good now. The shine in the eyes. The tilt of the head. You’d swear someone loved that dog deeply once. But no hand touched the fur. No heart beat faster drawing the whiskers. It’s all sleight of code.

AI generated image of Hungarian Vizsla, Weimaraner and German Shorthair Pointer

The problem isn’t just technical. It’s emotional. These images don’t feel fake - and that’s what makes them so effective.

We’re biologically wired to respond to beauty and vulnerability. To kindness. So we engage. We react. We comment with our hearts open.

Meanwhile, someone - not always a person, sometimes a bot - is farming sympathy for clicks, shares, followers. They’re turning love into currency. And trust into rubble.

Why It Matters

Art has always been about truth. Even when it lies, it does so honestly. The painter exaggerates the color of the sea because that’s how it felt. The illustrator draws a dog with a little more tilt to the brow because that’s how they looked at you.

'A Special Pleader' by Charles Burton Barber

But when art is born without memory - without someone behind it who knows - it stops being a mirror and becomes a mask.

We lose the honesty that comes with baring your creative soul for the world to see, to criticize. We lose the memory of the emotion that drove the inspiration to create. We lose the love.

And that’s not just a slippery slope - it’s a fall.

What We Hold Onto

At Pointelier, we hold a line. A real one, drawn and painted by hand WITH digital tools, never BY digital tools. Every portrait is made, composed and designed by a human who has sat in the quiet and felt the weight of a real dog’s gaze.

We don’t use AI to fake feelings. We use hands and skill to honor them.

Because in a world where you can fake almost anything, truth is the most precious thing you can make.

So if you see a beautiful pet memorial post online today, pause. Ask yourself: Did someone really love this creature? Or did someone want me to believe they did?

Multimedia hand-drawn illustration of my muse, Sofie

And if you ever need art that comes with a soul - you know where to find us.

- Sam (and Sofie, who absolutely is real and currently hunting my shoes)

🐾🖋️💙