Nature appeared to be holding its breath, even though it was March. The air was oppressively heavy in the cemetery on the outside of the settlement. When the clouds dropped so low and the frigid wind brushed the slope next to the Danube, people instinctively lowered their heads.
rows with no sound. Some buried their hands deep in their pockets, while others pursed their lips and gazed straight ahead. Some abandoned children’s toys and wilting daffodils were found in the grass. And a nightingale sang strangely from behind the fence.
However, nobody was observing him.
Not the priest, who was holding the Bible with trembling hands.
Not even the father, who was astounded by what he said.
Everyone’s attention was focused on the dog that wouldn’t leave the white casket.
The dog was a German Shepherd with a dark brown collar. As if he had become part of the earth. His eyes were as keen as knives, almost piercing the wood. If someone tried to move him, he snarled at them. Not out of anger, but as a warning. As though he knew something. Something important was not done by humans.
“Whose canine is it?” murmured a woman with a black headscarf.
“They say he belonged to the little girl,” another person stated. She and her mother’s brother were saved by him. They had a special place in their hearts for this puppy.
He is just a beast! He’s at a funeral, but why? It’s impolite!
“What if he senses something?” a man in uniform interrupted, his face harsh. His tone was tense but emotionless.
It seemed like a normal country funeral until the dog moved.
At start, almost inconspicuously. Suddenly he stood up, stepped forward, and put his paws on the coffin. A scream was heard. The dog’s ears grew alert, its tail stiffened, and its breathing accelerated. There was pain in his eyes. Almost human.
“Now, get him off!” the funeral director screamed.
“Wait!” shouted the man in the military and stepped forward. I know about that position. I saw it happen on the front lines when dogs found a human under the rubble.
The silence was deadly. Everyone stopped, afraid to move. First quietly, then rhythmically, the dog began to whimper, growing louder and louder. Almost indignantly. And in a curiously deliberate way.
Then the unthinkable happened.
Faces contorted.
From the coffin…
knocked.
dim.
Not very audible. But the dog was the first to hear it.
“Did you hear that?” someone asked, placing a hand on their breast.
What was that? — a muttered man with a cross.
The dog kept staring at the coffin. Then he whimpered in grief for a long time. As if someone were calling from space.
And no one dared approach.
Aside from one individual.
“Open it,” a voice ordered abruptly. Shaky with fear but firm.
The funeral director answered, “Pardon me?” incredulously.
— Open it. If there’s even the slightest possibility, the voice trembles, but not from tears anymore.
At that point, the usual grief left the mourners’ faces. Because, as everyone knew, this was no ordinary day.
This dog wasn’t your normal animal, either.
What had begun as grieving was only beginning.
No one moved. As if time had stopped. The wind rustling the tombstones was so loud in the peaceful cemetery that it was deafening.
The man in the uniform was the first to step forward. He didn’t ask for permission or consult anyone. To put it simply, he said in a stern but quiet voice:
If there is even the slightest chance that she is still alive, we have to open it.
Two young men from the village were with him. Together, they raised the coffin’s lid. The audience listened to a prayer. Others looked aside. But the dog remained. He walked over, breathing nervously, and saw the lid being carefully opened.
The lid made a creaking sound. Centimeters one and two.
Then…
The little child trembled. A scratchy, nearly audible breath sounded through her body as her finger jerked. Initially, it was barely perceptible.
“She’s alive!” exclaimed someone.
— An ambulance! One woman said, “Quick!” while she hurriedly searched her phone for signal. This signal is where in the world?
The men raised her, covering her with coats and caps. After stroking the girl’s palms, an old man reached into his pocket and emptied a little bottle of vodka into his hand.
The dog did not move. He sat watching her. The one he had never left behind. With her eyelids wide, the girl said in a faltering voice:
— Morzsa
Her voice was so low that only the person next to her could hear it, but the dog recognized the name. He lifted his head and gave a low howl. They exchanged glances. The dog’s expression was one of gratitude. The girl’s spark of life returned.
The ambulance arrived from the neighboring community twenty minutes later. She had been buried in the old village of Lada until then, covered with hot water bottles, scarves, and even a wool blanket that had been provided for the grave.
The only thing the hospital’s doctors said was, “Rare condition, deep catatonic state.” It is difficult to detect vital signs. It is frequently mistaken for death.
After signing the death certificate, the doctor never returned to the clinic.
In contrast, the dog spent a few more days at the cemetery. sitting close to the old mausoleum where his beloved was buried. as if to shield it. As if waiting for a final resolution.
When the small child regained full awareness, his first question was:
— Where is Morzsa?
Her mother immediately got into the car and drove to pick up the dog. He obeyed her orders. When he entered, the girl sat up. She smiled. Tears were streaming down her face.
She hugged the puppy tightly, as if she would never let go. As if she knew that it was a loving heart, not a medical marvel, that had saved her life.
Because what we consider to be “just a dog” can occasionally turn out to be an angel. Donning a fur coat.