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Colma graves marked by Stars of David: Where Jews bury their `sweet beasts’

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Message: If you are having trouble reading this email, you may view this article online at: http://www.jweekly.com/4769/full/4769/colma-graves-marked-by-stars-of-david-where-jews-bury-their-sweet-beasts/ Colma graves marked by Stars of David: Where Jews bury their `sweet beasts’ Friday, January 3, 1997 | by TERESA STRASSER After almost 20,000 walks with his Siberian husky, Charles Michael wasn't about to throw his loyal companion of 16 years into a mass incinerator and then the city dump. No way. It's still too painful for Michael to place flowers at Pavlov's tombstone, but it does exist—engraved with a simple etched "Shalom" for the "sweet beast" buried on a grassy Colma hillside. "It was a very personal way to say goodbye to my dog," says Michael, an investor who lives alone in San Francisco. "He and I had pretty wonderful times together. He was very special in my life." Pavlov is resting in peace among some 10,000 other pets who have been buried at Pet's Rest, a cemetery and crematory for animals. One of several such cemeteries in the Bay Area—including the austere pet burial area at the San Francisco Presidio—Pet's Rest is an alternative to less personal disposal methods offered by veterinary hospitals. Many of the graves, like those at a nearby Jewish cemetery, Home of Peace, are marked with Stars of David. Rabbis say that under Jewish law animals are not recognized as Jewish. But many of those spiritual leaders say the Jewish ritual of mourning can help pet owners accept the loss of a beloved animal. A walk through the pet cemetery clearly shows that many Bay Area pet owners have taken their loss very seriously. Pokie, Duke, The Big Ragu, Fluffy, Peppy, Our Beloved Poo-Pee Dog, Macho, Cookie Puss, Mack, Mitzi. Small granite and redwood markers bearing their names cover 2-1/2 acres. A small wooden shack serves as a chapel, where snapshots of fallen pets, belonging to families of all faiths, are tacked to the walls. In the photos, pets lounge happily with their owners. The bygone fashions represented in the collage of pet owners gives an idea just how long Bay Area residents have been burying pets there. This year is the 50th anniversary of Pet's Rest, which has seen cats, fish, birds, rabbits, roosters, turtles, a puma and 10 varieties of monkeys laid to rest. Last week, as she does every month, Gail Platanoff visited the grave of her "son" Lucky, a poodle mix who was 12 years old when he died last January. Platanoff's brother dropped her off in a dusty sedan and she set slowly across the grass—a cane in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other—to pay respects. "His eyes were so pretty. He talked with his eyes," said Platanoff, her white scarf blowing in the brisk Colma breeze. Near Lucky's grave is an informally organized Jewish area. A single stone has been placed atop Kitty Pretty's grave, in accordance with Jewish custom. Two yahrzeit candles book-end the final resting place of "Stuey." His grave says, "You were a good boy," and in cursive, the words "Love You Always, the Weisman Family." According to Rabbi Alan Lew, of the Conservative Congregation Beth Sholom in San Francisco, "there is a real obligation to care for one's pets" in Judaism. The spiritual leader, a golden retriever owner, cites the biblical Proverbs as one example: "A righteous man regards the life of his beast." The passage "is often taken to mean you are obliged to care of your domestic animals even before you take care of yourself," says Lew, who also is president of the Northern California Board of Rabbis. However, there are still many Jews in Orthodox circles who wouldn't dream of having a pet, especially not of the canine variety. This, says Lew, is because the Talmud "has a lot of witheringly disapproving things to say" about the species. "Dogs are the lowest of the low in the talmudic mentality," he adds. Lew and his dog Yofi don't agree. The rabbi says he could never dispose of a pet in the city dump (his last two pets were buried behind his former synagogue in New York). For the burials, Lew put together a family ritual based on Jewish mourning principles but "de-Jewified." As much as he loves dogs, pets aren't Jewish. He says there is "no record in our tradition of a non-human Jew." Orthodox Rabbi Eliezer Finkelman of Berkeley's Cngregation Beth Israel, who once performed "a little ad hoc memorial" for a family goldfish, agrees. Animals aren't Jewish, Finkelman says, but "it is appropriate to help a child through the grieving process, as long as things maintain a certain proportion." Still, neither rabbi has never been asked to officiate at a pet's funeral. And San Francisco's Jewish funeral home, Sinai Memorial Chapel, has never participated in the burial of a pet, according to its executive director, Gene Kaufman. But rabbis say an informal burial, like any ritual, can help heal the loss of a beloved Bootsie or BoBo. "Ritual is always helpful in expressing spiritual feelings," Lew says. "We devise rituals to express the inexpressible." To be sure, losing a pet can be as wrenching as any other other heartache. Just ask Philip C'De Baco, who spends his days fielding calls from the newly bereaved. "Every phone call we get is somebody who's suffered a loss," says C'De Baco, who has owned Pet's Rest since 1972. "I reassure them that it's not an abnormal thing to grieve a pet. Most people think, `Am I crazy for feeling this way about my dog?'" Burial not only helps pet owners gain a sense of closure but also gives them a place to visit, place flowers and remember, he says. "We get more visitors than the rest of the cemeteries combined. No matter how you felt about Uncle Charlie, you gotta deal with him. With pets, people do it [burial] because they want to, not because they have to," C'De Baco says. "Big difference." Prices for burial range from $489 for a small pet to nearly $800 for a pet about the size of a Great Dane at Pet's Rest. There is a yearly $30 fee to cover maintenance. Services, prices and a virtual tour can be found on a new Web site at <a href="http://www.petrest.com">http://www.petrest.com</a> The fee was a small price to pay to mark the life of his husky, says Michael. The late Pavlov might not be there to greet his owner pantingly at the door, or stand stubbornly in front of the television set waiting for a treat, but someday soon, when Michael finally is ready, he'll be able to place a stone on the grave of his "sweet beast."

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