My brother used to work in the bomb graveyard. He dug up bones, and then he sold them. My brother and his friend Ali were a team. They were both 10 years old when this happened.
They were working in the graveyard and had dug up at least 3kgs of bones. Adib (MY BROTHER) and Ali stopped to have lunch and have a drink. Adib never liked digging up bones; he said that he was scared if he would be haunted by the ghost of the people. After a while Ali and Adib needed to go to the bathroom, so they went into one of the buildings near the grave yard. Ali went first. Then Adib went in. As he was going to the toilet he felt a cold breeze, he said it made him shiver. And then he saw a large man standing before him. The man said "Why?" and disappeared. Adib screamed, pulled up his pants and ran outside. He told Ali what happened. Ali didn't believe him but when he got home and told us. I was sure he was telling the truth.
The next day Adib didn't want to go back to the grave yard. But my father had said that he had to. He kept digging up bones. He told me he heard voices and crying. But he only told me this part because he was worried that my dad would yell at him. So my brother went back every day and kept hearing voices. After 3 days my brother broke his arm falling over a rock.
And this time he never went back.
We don't give our dogs human bones.
I mean, I would be mad if my bones were disturbed. I wouldn't hesitate to scare the person who disturbed them. I reckon you need to be prepared before doing something as extreme as this. I think it's extreme but I do understand if it's a way of life, somehow.