Faithful Unto Death - Review
- Sara Green
- Apr 6
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 7
A journey into the history of pet mourning.
I grew up in a remote town in Southern Italy, where I always wanted to bring home the stray animals I picked up from the streets. Many of them ended up becoming part of our family.
Over the years, we had a golden fish, Crickey the hamster, Aki the cat, Pongo the dog, Rufus the cat, and finally Aldo the dog. I never had to see my pets dying, or even dead for that matter, and it recently dawned on me that Aldo, my eldest, has turned 17. The thought of not being able to reassure him in his last hours horrifies me, and I’m terrified of being left with hundreds of pictures and videos on my phone but nothing else.
In a serendipitous turn of events, I came across the latest book by author Paul Koudounaris, Faithful Unto Death. He is a renowned American photographer with a wealth of knowledge on all things macabre and grotesque, as well as a PhD in the History of Art. My manager casually approached me and said, ‘We ordered this book as a sample, but we don’t stock this subject. Would you like it?’

Shocked by the absence of a section on pet mourning in our esoteric bookshop, I held the book in my hands and examined the cover: a white stone kitten gazing at the camera, sitting beside a fallen white cross inscribed with the word 'Beauty.' Little did my manager know that I am a big fan of Paul’s work - obsessed, to be honest. I knew of the upcoming release of this title and accepted it as a gift from the universe, a clear sign that it was time to confront my fear of losing my beloved dog.
Paul Koudounaris’ work is not for the faint of heart, and not for the squeamish, either. It is not the type of insight that one typically wants to read about and is not a subject that most people would normally open up about.
From my perspective as a bookseller and lover of deadly matters, this book feels like a curious walk into the darker, unseen, and more emotional side of life. It’s as if you’re stepping right into the gut of someone’s grief - a moist, warm, loving, and broken heart.
While he usually explores death customs around the world, in this book, Paul offers a different dimension—not as nose-crinkling as the unfamiliar reader may expect, but approached with love and care, and full of soul.

The first pet cemetery was established thanks to the compassionate actions of Mr Winbridge, the gatekeeper of London’s Hyde Park, who agreed to bury the much-loved dog Cherry at the family's request. This marks the starting point of our journey, as the book guides you on a slow adventure across time and space—from the earliest cemeteries and stories in Europe to the vast lands of the USA, and from 19th-century pet burial customs to tales of heroic and memorable pets.
While I was bawling my eyes out over the tender stories of pet loss and unwavering love, I also jotted down my favourite parts.
Before diving into these stories, I wanted to express how much I loved the photography—so crisp and vibrant, with a focused eye that not only captures every detail but also creates a poetic and solemn atmosphere. I also appreciated the archival work; the book features many beautiful vintage pictures that transported me to a time long gone, reminding me that our way of honouring our pets remains unchanged.

As mentioned, among my favourite parts of the book, I particularly fell in love with the author’s exploration of cats and grieving. Cats, as he noted, were stigmatized for a long time—up until the first half of the 20th century—and carried with them the shadow of witch persecutions and superstition. To this day, black cats are associated with bad luck and, in many European folk beliefs, with sorcery and witchcraft; cats are thought to be the witches’ familiars, assisting them in their endeavours. Moreover, while dogs were the first to receive a 'proper' burial, it took some time to recognize that cats are just as loving companions, with incredible personalities and often overlooked intelligence.
In particular, I loved the pages dedicated to cat poetry. These truly broke my heart; as I read through the poems, each one more heartbreaking than the last, I held back my tears while squeezing my poor cat Midnight in deep gratitude for her presence (though she surely would have run off if given the chance). The poetry largely centres on the mistreatment of felines and their innate affection, which was often underappreciated at the time, as cats were regarded as having less value than dogs.
Coming from the deep hinterland of Salento, I am all too familiar with the horrors of animal abuse. Paul Koudounaris shares this awareness, documenting numerous cases of abandonment and death on his Instagram account. He honours the dignity of the animals he encounters by creating impromptu colourful memorials and touching stories about them.
Still, even after witnessing such things, he writes about animal abuse in an unconventionally gentle manner. I can feel that his words come from a place with no room for anger or hatred, but plenty of compassion and care. My favourite poem, by an anonymous author, is:

I adored reading about Paul’s investigation of the writer behind the poem “She Loves Me and I Love Her” and was so impressed by the amount of research he did to uncover the identity of the person who composed it.
I was also delighted to learn about the early organizations dedicated to saving animals and protecting their rights, along with the very first pet cemeteries in the USA, including the SPCA (now known as the ASPCA, or American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals), founded in 1866, and Aspin Hill Cemetery, which opened in 1920.
Finally, I loved browsing through the pictures of epitaphs, some old and others taken by the author, and reading the bittersweet words left behind by pet parents: from traditional gravestones to improvised wooden markers, large stones used as a base for painting pet portraits, and gravestones with a twist...

I am grateful for this book and for Paul, who has taken on the monumental task of researching and assembling it. He emphasizes the absolute importance of grief and pet mourning, a subject that is sadly still ridiculed yet holds immense significance in today’s society. It helped me process the imminent passing of Aldo, my pet dog, and felt that I am never alone in experiencing this sense of dread, grieving and loss, as the day of our last snuggle approaches; I will definitely know how to honour him when the time will come. Within these pages, you will find an in-depth exploration of the history of pet cemeteries and adorable animal personalities, and a strong message about animal rights and equality, as we are all the same in the face of death, and animals should be cared for and respected in dying as much as their human companions do.
Overall, this is certainly a must-read and an unmissable book on the shelf of any lover of weird tales. It is not an easy read, as some pages report tragic stories of loss, and you will feel the sadness of many words from epitaphs and poems deep in your bones. But I like to think of this as a book about discovery, too. If you are a brave adventurer curious about what happens when a pet dies and how pet memorials are represented across the world, then this is the next book you need to pick up at your local bookshop.
Paul Koudounaris is a Las Vegas-based photographer and art historian. His publications on the subject of macabre art history made him a well-known figure in the esoteric and occult communities. Among various contributions to different European magazines, he contributed to Fortean Times which was published by Thames and Hudson. He is a member of The Order of the Good Death.
He is currently touring the USA and soon the UK for his book launch. His books, A Cat’s Tale, Memento Mori, Heavenly Bodies and The Empire of Death are available both in the UK and the US, a treat for the Art History nerds and the lovers of the morbid and the forgotten.
コメント