I thought I could hold it together. Really, I did. But when Rex, my uncle’s retired police K9, leaped onto the casket with a heartbroken whimper, I lost all composure.
Uncle Mateo had served two tours overseas before coming home with Rex, his faithful German Shepherd partner. That dog had saved his life more times than we could count. Even after retirement, they were inseparable – Rex followed him into civilian search and rescue work, always by his side.
The funeral was dignified – full military honors, the flag folding ceremony, all the traditions. We were managing our grief until they brought Rex in. At first he just sniffed the air cautiously, as if searching for his partner. Then in one fluid motion, he jumped onto the casket and laid across it, resting his head near the flag.
The entire crowd seemed to stop breathing. Then came the sounds – grown men sobbing, my cousin collapsing to the ground, even the priest needing a moment. But when Rex started pawing desperately at the casket lid, as if trying to dig his way inside, that’s when I had to intervene. The funeral director moved to remove him, but I stepped forward – no one was going to separate these partners in their final moments together.
