What pet cemeteries reveal about being human
Editor’s Note: Eric Tourigny is a lecturer in historical archaeology at Newcastle University, UK. His research interprets osteological and material culture remains alongside historic texts
Editor’s Note: Eric Tourigny is a lecturer in historical archaeology at Newcastle University, UK. His research interprets osteological and material culture remains alongside historic texts to examine changing human-animal relationships in Europe and North America over the past 500 years. The views expressed in this commentary are his own. Read more opinion on CNN. Why do we bury our departed loved ones in a cemetery? A primary purpose is to provide survivors with an opportunity to grieve and gain a sense of closure. The cemetery is a place for the living as much as it is a place for the dead. But what about when the dearly departed are not human – but our pets? Eric Tourigny Eric Tourigny The Spanish city of Barcelona recently announced that it will be investing in the establishment of the country’s first public pet cemetery. Set to open next year, it will offer both burials and cremations – with an estimated 7,000 carried out each year. For me, as someone who has spent years researching the development of pet cemeteries elsewhere in the world, this news came as a shock. Barcelona is a densely populated city with limited privately owned land – one where 50% of families own a pet. How did a city that is home to 180,000 dogs not already have a public pet cemetery? Until now, the service was only provided by the private sector, according to Barcelona’s Councilor for Climate Emergency and Ecological Transition, Eloi Badia. He added that the municipal-funded initiative was sparked by “constant public demand.” After all, public pet cemeteries have been around in Europe and the Americas since the late 19th century. Britain’s first public pet cemetery appeared in London’s Hyde Park in 1881. New York’s Hartsdale pet cemetery was founded in 1896, followed a few years later by Paris’ ornate Cimetière des Chiens in 1899.
A grave discovery I became interested in the history of modern pet burial practices while investigating the archaeological record of a centuries-old house in Toronto. I came across a (very) large dog buried in the back garden which, according to the historical record, was occupied between 1840 and 1870. This dog survived to an elderly age but, sadly, suffered from degenerative joint disease and severe infections during his last months. His ailments progressed to such a state that suggest he received some level of care in his final weeks. He then was buried in a personal plot behind the family home. This elderly dog led me to think about the different ways people interact with the bodies of their pets after death. Could this behavior be reflective of the relationships they held with their animals in life? In this instance, why take the time to carefully bury a dog in its own space when other, arguably easier options existed? "Darling Sammie," reads one of the animal gravestones dating back to the 1890s in Hyde Park Pet Cemetery, London. Photo taken by Eric Tourigny with permission from The Royal Parks. Eric Tourigny This, after all, was an era when people often disposed of their dead pets in the river, or might have sold their bodies for meat and skin. Good hygiene is an obvious reason to choose a burial – no one wants decomposing animal bodies in the street or their garden – but that wouldn’t immediately warrant a personalized, dedicated burial and gravestone. The most straight forward option would be to dispose of a deceased animal with the household waste. But such treatment would evidently feel less ceremonious and would not offer appropriate emotional closure to what was likely an important relationship. A member of the family Like the burial of people, the burial of pets is an intimate cultural practice, one that changes over time and is reflective of the changing relationships that a society has with its cherished creatures.
