Could you be a hitman with a sense of humor? Apparently there was one who worked for mobsters in Las Vegas. Rumors are that he would take snitches or those "who knew too much" on a one way trip to the desert, and give them a final resting place next to Spot and Kitty.
What better place to hide a body than in the lonely desert around Las Vegas? Neither police, joggers, hikers or sightseers would stumble over human remains, and if they did they would assume it was Fido.
Or perhaps it was the other way around, when the cemetery was established in 1964 on 15 acres, Las Vegas was already booming after World War II. By then the ill-fated Bugsy Siegel had established the Flamingo Hotel and millions thronged to the area to gamble and enjoy the shows. More than likely this story is an urban legend, but who knows.
It's a spot of land about four miles south of Railroad Pass on Searchlight Highway past Boulder City.
It all started in the 1950s, and Boulder City had no veterinarians. Marwood Doud, who sat on the Boulder City advisory council also doubled as the town's unofficial veterinarian. He loved animals and volunteered to help people with their pets, and never charged for it.
It's inevitable that he couldn't save of all them, and no doubt the heartbroken owners needed a place to bury their animals and leave a sweet memorial to happier times.
Doud asked a friend Emory Lockette to help find a plot of land to use as a cemetery. They found a place close to the Boulder City Cemetery, but someone on the city council opposed it. Their next choice was a spot off US Highway 95, thought to soon be part of Boulder City. This didn't occur as expected and it remained federal land.
There are sources who say the land was used to bury animals as early as the 1930s in an unofficial manner, which possibly could indicate why Doud and Lockette decided on this spot as their second choice. It's not strange to think that pet owners would go out to the middle of the nowhere to bury their beloved pets, when all that was out there was desolate desert.
First the people came from Boulder City, but then through word-of-mouth others came from different parts of southern Nevada to bury their animals there.
Not only are dogs and cats buried there, but horses, snakes, lizards and donkeys.
It became known as the El Dorado Valley Pet Cemetery, the Marwood Doud Cemetery, the Boulder City Pet Cemetery and the Searchlight Pet Cemetery.
Emory Lockette, who acted as caretaker would charge to build coffins and erect fence posts. The cost for a small dog was $25 or $35 for a large dog. This would include picking up the remains, building the coffin and burying the pet.
Only one quasi-famous pet is buried there, it's Flash, the son of Rin Tin Tin.
For every marker that's still visible, untold ones have been erased by wind, sun and sand. Flash floods and coyotes are another factor that have destroyed memorials through the years.
Occasionally the federal government squawked about the use of the land, but mostly ignored the presence of the graveyard; that is until the 1990s. A decision was made to use this area as a tortoise habitat. This meant removing anything that was non-native, and this most definitively included a pet cemetery. Concerned citizens made a deal with the government, and it was left "as is". From this point on it would be illegal to inter an animal there.
Memorials, some simple, others more elaborate poke between the boulders and sagebrush. Despite the warning that no burials are permitted there are those with dates as recent as 2015.
A haunting connected to the cemetery is the sighting of a white cat that follows you around, but no doubt there are more that could be seen, for those with eyes to see.
Photo Source - Miss Shari / Flickr
Stranger Than Fiction Stories by M.P. Pellicer