This is part two of the history of the pet cemetery in Aspen Hill, Maryland, now known as Aspin Hill Memorial Park.
Richard and Bertha Birney ran the pet cemetery until 1944, when both of them died. Richard Birney died first, on August 28, and Bertha followed him in death on November 25. Bertha’s obituary in the Montgomery County Sentinel stated that the cemetery would continue to be operated by George and Gertrude Young. This couple was apparently already working at the cemetery prior to the Birneys’ deaths. Continue reading Aspin Hill Cemetery for Pet Animals, 1930-1960
There’s something poignant about the decay at Aspin Hill Memorial Park, as represented by the headless statues I have found over the years. However, people whose pets and human relatives are buried there may see the decay of this cemetery much differently. Continue reading Headless Statues of Aspin Hill Memorial Park
Dogs represent the majority of animals buried at Aspin Hill Memorial Park. Cats are almost equally numerous. But it’s not just cats and dogs that are buried at this pet cemetery. There are also horses, birds, snakes, rabbits, hamsters, turtles, and at least one opossum. A former owner of the cemetery once claimed that he could bury an elephant if he had to, although he was never called upon to do so. Even more surprising is the fact that there are quite a few humans buried there as well. Continue reading Not Just Cats and Dogs
This is part one of the history of the pet cemetery in Aspen Hill, Maryland, now known as Aspin Hill Memorial Park.
On July 14, 1920, Richard C. Birney and his wife Bertha took possession of what was referred to on the deed as “10 acres more or less on the Seventh Street Pike.” (Seventh Street Pike is now known as Georgia Avenue.) On this tract of farmland, seven miles north of the Washington, D.C. border, the Birneys planned to breed dogs, to board other peoples’ dogs, and to run a pet cemetery.
Continue reading Aspin Hill Cemetery for Pet Animals, The Early Years
This is my favorite tombstone in the entire cemetery — Frosty, a white cat, posing in a blue dress. If you’ve ever had a cat, you know that they are usually not inclined to tolerate nonsense like this from their owners. Frosty, owned by the Foster family, must have been one special cat. The simple tagline “a pal” at the bottom of the tombstone is understated yet sincere.
Inscription: Frosty 1934-1945 A pal FOSTER (across the top edge) Location: Aspen Hill Memorial Park N 39° 04.751 W 077° 04.585
Get out your hankies, because this is one sad story. On a lovely Sunday morning in August 1928, Eric and Alvina Matus of Capitol Heights, Maryland went on a boating trip on the Potomac. They and another couple were fishing from a skiff near Colonial Beach, Virginia when they capsized. The couple with them were rescued by nearby fishermen, but the Matuses disappeared in sixty feet of water. Days later, their bodies were recovered.
Continue reading This Ever Faithful Barking Ghost
One of the delights of visiting a pet cemetery is reading all the interesting, heart-warming, and funny names people give their pets. Last week, I showed you the tombstone of J. Edgar Hoover’s dog, Spee De Bozo. Now meet J. Edna Hoover, an English bulldog buried in Hartsdale Pet Cemetery in New York. I wonder if the owners really admired the FBI director, or if this was their way of mocking him?
Inscription: J. Edna "Hoover" The Greatest Little Girl To Walk This Earth On Two Or Four Legs. Keep Watching Over Me Location: Hartsdale Pet Cemetery, Hartsdale, New York
J. Edgar Hoover was, among other things, devoted to his dogs. His first, Spee De Bozo, was so beloved that Hoover kept his photograph on his desk at work. When Spee De Bozo died in 1934, Hoover buried him in Aspin Hill Memorial Park. Accompanied by three of his aides, he watched as his beloved Airedale was lowered into the ground. He told the cemetery groundskeeper, “This is one of the saddest days of my life.”
Continue reading J. Edgar Hoover’s Dogs
Here’s what I’d like to know. If they loved these cats so much that they’d bury them in Aspin Hill Memorial Park, underneath a solid granite tombstone, why couldn’t they have come up with more imaginative names than Cat #1 and Cat #2?