Fido Makes a Trip to the Crematorium

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 560, 12 January 1929, Page 22

Fido Makes a Trip to the Crematorium

Burials of Peis in Paris

i»i/j jjiwca INGE the earliest beginIxfWggj nings ot the human ‘race man has loved his I dog, and his affection i has b een returned a I V /[ thousandfold. Even the bones and artifacts uncovered by archeologists bear striking if mute testimony of man mourning the passing of his.-Canine friend, writes R. S. Fendrick. Herodotus, in speaking of the affection and veneration showed for the dog by the Egyptians of his age, stated that when a canine member of an Egyptian family died the members of the household went into mourning by shaving themselves. This doting affection he ascribed to a material cause: gratitude for the protection given a man's goods by his dog. In Ethiopia dogs were elected kings. Pythagoras, who taught transmigration of the soul, would hold a dog before the mouth of a dyingdisciple so that the departing soul might enter a favourable habitation where the moral attribute of fidelity would be prolonged. Paris, famed for her leadership in the styles and customs of civilisation, now offers her citizens a kind and satisfying way of disposing of the remains of their deceased canine friends—cremation. A crematorium for aristocratic dogs is now being erected there. It will be a part of the magnificent dog cemetery that is one of the most curious sights of the French capital and that compares favourably with any of the other cemeteries of the city. This cemetery, which has been in existence since 1900, is located on a charming little island in the Seine on the northern edge—that is, the Montmartre edge—of Paris. It is managed by a committee of noted doglovers, including many of the nobility, and it is literally a hall of fame of famous canines which have passed out. Although it is primarily for dogs, one racehorse and a number of cats, canaries and parrots are also buried there. The animals are buried with any ceremonies the owners choose, but religious services and wreaths are forbidden on the ground of impropriety. Cut and potted flowers are permitted, as well as shrubbery. Many of the tombs and tombstones are the work of the best French sculptors. In some places three or four generations of the same family of dogs are buried in one mausoleum. Beginning next year, the crematorium will function for those owners who prefer it. The most interesting thing in the cemetery is a monument in memory of Barry, a famous St. Bernard, that faces the entrance. This dog, which belonged to the St. Bernard Hospice in the Alps, saved the lives of 40 persons, but was killed by. the 4.lst, a crazed Italian who was lost in a snowstorm and believed that a wild beast was attacking him. There is also a project being discussed in France now to erect a

i monument in tins cemetery in honour of the 12,00 dogs that served as auxiliary sentinels and couriers in the French Army during the war. The majority of these animals came from the Paris dog pound and served with great bravery, receiving official citations that any soldier would envy. Most of them were eventually killed in action. The cemetery is divided into “quartiers,” or sections, which have been named after well-known dog-lovers. The first on the right is the Henry Bataille section, where all the dogs of the great dramatist are sleeping their last sleep. A little further on is the tomb of Kroumir, the favourite cat of the writer, Henri Rochefort, “died of chagrin ten days after her master— July 10, 1913.” On a nearby tomb was the inscription: “Step softly near this tomb. Gillette, my treasure is not dead but sleeps since February 5, 1921, aged 11 years. His inconsolable mother.” In another quarter are buried the dogs of Edmond Rostand, of SaintSaens, the composer, and the kitten of Rejane, the great comedienne. At the present time there are about 3,000 graves in this curious cemetery, of which more than 2,500 are those of dogs, but the total number of animals buried there since the founding is probably much greater. “You cannot imagine with what luxury many of these dogs are buried,” one of the gravediggers exclaimed to me. ‘They are laid away in silk-lined oak and mahogany coffins and then brought here in magnificent limousines. The mistress is generally dressed in black and is accompanied by a party of her friends, also in black. Sometimes the grave is filled with flowers, the coffin being lowered in the midst of them. It is forbidden to have any sort of religious services, but I have seen many women kneel down and pray as I began to fill up the grave with earth again. And l see these same women come back week after week, sometimes for years, to pray and arrange the flowers on the grave. But, after all, is it so strange? They are mostly women who have had an unhappy love affair or some other bitter disappointment in life and have given all their affection to a clog. Then the dog dies and they are heartbroken. Is it any wonder they go to great expense to give him a fine burial? A woman must love something, even if it is dead.” A walk through this canine burying ground shows that most of the graves are very well kept. Richly dressed women are busy everywhere pulling weeds, cleaning off windrows and arranging the flower beds. But it is not only the wealthy who patronise this cemetery. In the more humble sections one sees poor women with shawls over their heads who have probably scrimped and saved pennies to buy their passed-out pets a plot, perhaps only for a year or two, so that he can sleep in peace. For here in this quiet corner of the French capital the rich dogs and the poor dogs lie side by side and all class distinctions are forgotten.