Snap. Fairy. Trix.
There are 300 pets nestled in a little spot in London. The Hyde Park Pet Cemetery closed its grounds to new burials in 1903, but the stones and stories remain. Here's one article and photos.
Tippo, Isaac, Pomme de Terre.
Hidden in the garden of the Victoria Gate Lodge, friends rest in the earth, with loving messages marking where they sleep.
Drag. Smut. Carry.
The Victorians could have quite a flair for names, even including ones we find frankly tasteless now. (Though us moderns are no slouch either, as you saw in this post. Tip of the hat to Baby Driver, State of Maine, and Spatula.)
My Ruby Heart died Sept. 14 1897. For seven years we were such friends.
Here is the text of an article on the cemetery dated 1901, two years before it closed its doors. Here's the Atlas Obscura page on the cemetery, too.