Nero the Hero
A chance encounter with a Vietnam veteran and his dog
We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.
~Cynthia Ozick~
On Friday, June 18th, we met John at a Fairfield Inn in Louisville, Kentucky. It was an early morning in the breakfast area, where everyone gets their continental breakfast; scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, a plastic cup of orange juice from a dispenser, Cheerios, black coffee from the pump thermos.
John stood behind me as I plopped bacon onto a paper plate.
“Mornin”, he said. John was holding a glossy, seafoam green retractable dog leash, the other end attached to a large, yellow lab. John’s right leg is prosthetic, silver steel, with a skull and crossbones for a kneecap. He wore black perforated gloves on each hand, like a race car driver. He sported black, really dark, dark glasses. He is legally blind, I learn. His t-shirt bears the same skull and cross bones. He is shiny bald.
“What’s your dog’s name?” I asked.
“Nero. Nero, the hero.”
Nero perks up at the sound of his name. I bend over and am rewarded with a wiggle, a wag, and a few licks on my outstretched hand. ‘Hi, Nero. What a pretty boy you are.”
“I’ve had him for 4 years. Couldn’t get him right away. Had to take a video test so they could see what my needs were. Got a few things going on here.
They took that video and when Nero was born, they used it to train him to be my perfect dog.”
I looked down at Nero. Wiggle. Wag. Yes, the perfect dog.
We shuffled along the continental breakfast counter. Nero looked hopefully for another pat. Happily obliged.
“What’s this?”, John asked. He had picked up a brown paper package of oatmeal.
“That’s oatmeal. Maple flavored oatmeal,” my husband, Bill, said.
“Oh, I was hoping for a bagel or something, but I don’t see any,” John replied.
I don’t think John could really see much of anything.
“There are bagels here. Would you like one? They’ve got plain and cinnamon raisin,” I said.
“Plain’s good. Thank you.”
“Would you like it toasted?”
“Yes. With some cream cheese if they have it. Thank you.”
How simple for me (how impossible for John) to pop in those two bagels, open sides to the center so they toasted like bagels should. We four hovered around the toaster. Toasters take a few minutes.
Back to John.
“I served in Vietnam, started in ’68. I’d serve again if my country needed me and if I could. Lost my leg because of complications from Agent Orange.”
I didn’t know that could happen.
“You know, one time, planes came right over where we had our tiny tent city set up and our guys came down through the clouds to bring us our mail and whiskey. Risked their lives to do that for us.”
“Which did you like better, the mail or the whiskey,” I asked with a smile.
“Well, I got drunk and then read my mail,” he said, laughing.
Pop. Up came the bagels. A little cream cheese, no jelly. I picked up a napkin and took his paper plate to his booth, setting it down next to his eggs and bacon, now stone cold. John didn’t seem to care.
“Thank you for your help,” John said. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Thank you for your service. We appreciate you,” Bill said.
“You married way over your pay grade,” John said to Bill, laughing again.
Bill and I both laughed, too.
One last scratch behind Nero’s ears. One more tail wagging wiggle.
God bless you, Captain John.
Thank you for your kindness, Nero the Hero.
Your Comments: Heroes you’ve met, kindness you’ve given or received, moments in time that have made your day, thoughts on Captain John…
Invitation: If you are enjoying Practical Kindness, please share it with one other person (or 100!). Copy/paste this link into an email you send to invite your friends: https://PracticalKindness.substack.com
It’s free. It’s every Monday. It’s a kind way to start the week!
GMAIL Tips: If you have a Gmail address, you may find that your Practical Kindness weekly newsletter email is landing in your Promotions Tab. Please check. Simply move the email to the Primary tab. A message will pop up asking if you want to have future messages from this sender sent to your Primary tab. Click “YES”. (please!)
If you are reading this and haven’t signed up yet, click the link below. It’s free. It’s kind. It’s once a week. I can’t think of anything stopping you from clicking that link, can you?!
Want to check out my stash of articles? Here you go:
Heather: It's wonderful that you were able to be kind to John by helping him. For your information, it is best to ask the owner if you can pet their service dog. As a dog person myself, I can understand that your desire to pet Nero was a natural impulse. From my perspective, John demonstrated kindness to you by not saying anything about Nero being petted without permission. I share the above in an effort to kindly educate you.