He looked down at the flag in his lap, then up at the dog, and his mouth moved like he was saying something I couldn't hear.
The Folded Flag
1 | The Dog Knew His Name
I had been standing in that hallway for maybe ten minutes, holding a folded flag against my chest, when the German Shepherd came around the corner.
He was a big one, all black and tan, panting with his mouth open like he'd just finished a long walk.
A handler in camouflage held his leash, and I could only see the handler's arm and shoulder, but the dog was the one who owned the room.
I was at the veterans' home to deliver a flag to a resident on the second floor.
That was my assignment for the morning, and I had rehearsed the words a dozen times in the car.
But the moment I saw the dog, something in my chest tightened.
He wasn't looking at me.
He was looking past me, toward the far end of the hallway, where an elderly man sat in a wheelchair.
The man was small and bent, with a blanket over his knees, and in his lap he held a folded American flag.
Just like mine.
The dog pulled toward him, and the handler let the leash go slack.
The animal walked straight to the wheelchair and sat down without being told.
I watched the old man's face change.
He looked down at the flag in his lap, then up at the dog, and his mouth moved like he was saying something I couldn't hear.
I took a few steps closer, because I was curious and because I had nowhere else to be.
The man reached out a hand, and the dog pressed its head against his palm.
Then the old man looked at me.
"You're Dregeany," he said.
It wasn't a question.
I looked at my name tag, then back at him.
"Yes, sir," I said.
"I knew your father."
I felt the floor shift under me.
My father had been dead for six years, and in all that time, I had never met anyone who claimed to know him from the service.
He never talked about it.
Not once.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Who are you?"
The old man didn't answer right away.
He reached into the pocket of his cardigan and pulled out something small and square.
A photograph.
He held it up, and I saw a young soldier in uniform, standing next to a German Shepherd.
The soldier was smiling, and the dog was sitting at his feet.
I knew that face.
It was my father, twenty years old, before the war had worn him down.
"Where did you get that?"
I asked.
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
The old man didn't flinch.
"I've had it for fifty years," he said.
"Your father gave it to me."
The dog whined, a low sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in its chest.
Then it lay down on the floor, right there in the hallway, and put its head on its paws.
The old man looked at the dog and said a name.
I didn't catch it at first.
But the dog's ears perked up, and its tail gave a single thump against the tile.
"What did you call him?"
I asked.
The old man looked at me with eyes that were suddenly very tired.
"Rex," he said.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Rex was the name of my father's dog.
The one he never talked about.
The one I only knew from a single photo I'd found in his footlocker after he died.
I had never told anyone that name.
Not once.
"How do you know that?"
I asked.
My voice was shaking now, and I didn't care.
The old man reached out and patted the dog's head.
"Because I was there when your father got him," he said.
"And I was there when he lost him."
The handler stepped forward, looking uncomfortable.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but we need to get Rex back to his room."
I held up a hand.
"Not yet," I said.
The old man looked at me, and his eyes were wet.
"Your father saved my life," he said.
"But not the way you think."
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but the handler was already pulling gently on the leash.
The dog stood up, gave the old man one last look, and followed the handler down the hallway.
The old man watched him go, and then he looked at me.
"Come back tomorrow," he said.
"I'll tell you the rest."
I stood there with my flag in my hands and my heart pounding in my ears.
I had come to deliver a flag to a stranger.
May you like
Instead, I had found a man who knew my father's dog.
And I had a feeling that before this was over, I was going to learn things about my father that I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
