My Garden Pet Cemetery
I have found it always starts with a “Mom, [insert pet’s name here] isn’t moving.†And from there the morning rolls right into the shitter.
The rest of the morning is filled with tears and explanations about life and death and the incredibly short life spans of fish/rodents/cats/dogs. This is normally shortly followed by explanations about the average life span of humans and how, “no, I will not be dropping dead tomorrow like the fish/rodent/cat/dog did todayâ€.
Then comes the burial. The coffin is typically what is at hand. The box from the totally cute pair of shoes bought last week or the box from that really awesome book you ordered from Amazon 2 days ago (they ship fast). These toss offs from commercial purchases take on suddenly greater spiritual duties.
Then there is the hole in the garden. Â Normally dug by a parent then filled in by a child. Our children hold very real mock funerals for what we know is practice for the very real thing to come some day soon.
Sometimes the vet can talk us into cremation or pet cemeteries, but the fact of the matter is we feel better when we bring these pets home.  Our gardens are safe places for the mortuary remains of fond furry memories. They are places that our children can visit when the mood strikes them… someday, even after we have moved on. “Ma’am, you don’t know me, but I lived here once and my favorite pet is buried in your backyard. Can I stop by?†Who would deny such a request?
Here lies Speedy, faithful pet rat for one year to his owner Logan (who is six). Speedy’s life was tragically shortened by a stroke. May he rest in peace in perpetuity under the peonies and ash tree, next to the other much beloved pets that came before him.
It is comforting to have beloved animals buried nearby. But folks, if you ever sell the house PLEASE tell somebody about the pet cemetery in the flower bed. We discovered one by accident last year. It wasn’t pretty.
When I was landscaping we dug up a dog collar, in a regular customer’s yard. We reburied it, without telling them. My boss, however, was a mess over it. The customer’s only child was in her 40’s and lived 1500 miles away. When we told the customers, much later, they had forgotten about the dog and where she was buried. Thirty years will do that.
Would the words “Rats – foiled again” be
a) and un-sincere farewell for Speedy,
b) Speedy’s last words
c) an alternate burial chamber
Or was Speedy just trying to work his way into that spiffy moss filled terrarium ?
Or just a bad flash back to a Clyde Crashcup Wacky Racer cartoon ?
Actually I though poor Goldie had checked out of the wine bottle. Whoda thunk gold fish would generally and usually outlive a ‘superior’ and craftier mammal like a rat ?
farewell Speedy… long live Goldie…
i don’t think such is legal here in my suburb. we cremate and mom likes to make a little glass box preserving the animal’s possessions and things that bring back the memories, like a picture and a collar and a “footprint” in a small stone she had made for her last dog when he passed.
the other thing is we’ve always had big dogs. we lived in a very rural area once, and the only dog we didn’t have cremated was a big lab. dad spent so many hours digging that hole he vowed he’d never do it again.