The Damn Airport, the Damn Pet Cemetery, and the Damn Damn: Part 3

You can read about the damn airport here.
You can read about the damn dam here.

This post is about the damn pet cemetery.

After spending all day at the Hoover Dam with my bestie Crazypants Clems and the Clems family, my kids and I decided to make one last stop before heading back to Las Vegas. It was starting to get dark, but that’s probably the best time to visit an abandoned pet cemetery. Right?

I first read about the pet cemetery on this post on the Places that Were blog. If you decide to go, bookmark that blog post because there is a map that you can click on and it will navigate you right to where you need to go. This is important because the pet cemetery is in the middle of the fucking desert right off the highway a couple miles south of Boulder City. And you’ll miss the little dirt road turnoff if you don’t know where to go. Plus, the entire blog is hella cool. 


When you pull off the highway, you’ll see a fence and a couple of these signs. Some of the burials were fairly recent, so I don’t think anyone gives a fuck that they’re not supposed to bury their pets here. The entire stretch along the freeway is fenced, but it’s not electric (I touched it) so you can just crawl through the fence to access the cemetery. That’s what the kids and I did. #momoftheyear

I’m pretty sure it’s all BLM land and there weren’t any “No Tresspassing” signs, for those of you that are concerned about that sort of thing.


The place was a lot bigger than I thought it was going to be – it was at least several acres. And most of it was really run down. I plan on returning, and I will definitely wear boots. There are lots of rusty nails and sharp things to step on. 


I did a little reading up and learned that the first pet burials took place in the 30’s. I guess there was some kind of local effort to make it an official pet cemetery, but nothing ever came out of it. It is protected land now – my guess is desert tortoise – which is why people aren’t supposed to bury pets here anymore. 


Most of the graves I saw were from the 60’s and 70’s. Some of the headstones were clearly homemade and others were pretty elaborate. Many of the markers were either missing or too faded to read.


This was one of my favorites. Our pets are our best friends, aren’t they?


I thought this one was cool because his tags are mounted in the stone. I bet he was a pretty boy. 


Here is a family plot. They lost three dogs in three years. Sitting on the headstone, unattached, is a shell bracelet. I wonder if the Townsends still come to visit Chris, Merry, and Nora. 


This one had an open bible on the grave with an angel watching over it. 


This rusted, collarless bell was actually the saddest thing I saw there. 

Some of the websites mentioned that there were rumors that the mafia buried people here, but you can’t throw a rock in this town without hitting something with a purported mafia connection. So I’d take that with a grain of salt. The scariest thing we came across was the sunset, and when the sun started to dip behind the mountains we hopped the fence and headed home. I’ve seen that movie before, and it didn’t turn out so well.  No way in fuckity-fuck was I gonna be caught there after dark.

It was a good day. One of the best, actually. Forty is going to be fucking awesome. 

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