Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Our Little Chocolate
I bought Csoki as a tiny puppy during my first year in Sarospatak, Hungary. I chose the rare brown Puli (Hungarian sheep-herding breed) because my best friend, Lois Craven, had one and raved about what good pets they make. I was never disappointed!
Csoki means "chocolate" in Hungarian. She was a very good companion throughout my three years in Sarospatak. When George entered my life, Csoki loved him at once and it wasn't long before it became obvious that Csoki preferred him over me.
Csoki was incredibly smart. When we had Abigail, she knew, even without us telling her, to walk around the baby blanket on the floor. She knew what rooms she was allowed to enter and which she was not. Her only fault, if I could say that, was how much she loved to inform everyone who entered the apartment building that she was there. She would bark at any little noise. In her later years this became less and less of a problem because she became deaf.
She also went blind.
But she was happy and content and a great friend up until the end.
Today we buried her in our friends' field and planted a blue spruce over the grave. The children have done their share of crying and have asked lots of questions about life and death. As hard as it is, we feel that it was appropriate to introduce the children to death in this way. We also have had the opportunity to talk to them about eternal life and what an incredible hope God has given us through the sacrifice and resurrection of Jesus Christ!
But tonight we're all sad. The little carpet she used to lie on is empty. Our little chocolate is no longer here.