I Gave Food to a Hungry Veteran and His Dog – a Month Later, My Boss Dragged Me into His Office, Furious, and My Whole Life Flipped Upside Down

I had no idea what I had just set in motion.

A month later, I'd almost forgotten about the man and his dog. The daily grind of endless admin at work, coupled with endless housework at home, left me with little mental bandwidth for thinking about strangers.

I was trying to figure out why a policy renewal kept erroring out when Mr. Henderson, my boss, stepped out of his office.

Mr. Henderson is in his early 60s with a permanent scowl etched so deeply into his face that I sometimes wonder if he was born with it. He walks like he's always in a hurry but never actually going anywhere.

That day, he looked pale and tense. I had a sick feeling that trouble was brewing even before he approached my desk.

"Come here, Michelle," he said sharply. "Now."

My stomach tightened. "Is everything okay?"

"It's about what you did a month ago," he said as I followed him to his office. "For that veteran with the dog."

What? How did he even know about that? My heart started racing. I couldn't imagine how helping a hungry man could've gotten me in trouble, but nothing about his attitude suggested he had good news for me.

Mr. Henderson shut the door behind us, walked to his desk, and pushed a thick, cream-colored envelope toward me with two stiff fingers.

"You need to see this."

I blinked at the envelope. "What is it?"

"A letter," he snapped. "From some veterans' organization. Apparently, they think very highly of you."