Faithful companions to some
These dogs are trained.
Not to take down escaping
Convicts but to sniff
Out the dead
They get really excited.
When there is a live
Body under their paws
Special treats and hugs
The life and times
Of the dog
One of the oldest domesticated
Animals for companionship
And for work in some country's
In others also a source of meat
When things go bad
In modern world
They have been trained.
To do special things
Such as leading the blind.
Across streets
Or the deaf to the door
When the bell rings
Or to rescue in emergency
There was a time these guys.
We're not used at all.
But that hand digging.
Is tiresome and it is better to know.
Whether or not anyone is salvageable.
I remember my grandfather.
Had survived WWII
With the help of his friends
On the other side
He knew Cairo and a few other places.
I used to travel with him.
One day we awoke to an earthquake.
He was so frantic.
Going around with his Muslim friends
Any signs of a small girl?
Just a tiny baby really
She could have fallen through a crack.
Days went by as she could not breathe
Then the dog came sniffing
She held out her hand.
And he began to pull.
He was admonished for touching.
But a grateful grandfather
Was handed his granddaughter.
Over the crowd of people
Bruised and battered.
But alive to breathe another day.
A miracle had occurred.
Just as the day she was born.
Her mother went into labor.
On the flight from France
Her screams brought it down.
Somewhere north they said.
But it was down on the beach.
That they found her with her newborn
Just as the story of Cecelia
The first European woman
Had gone into labor all alone.
They found her on the beach.
Having given birth to a girl
But died in the effort.
Living an heir to the property
It is said I was born in the air.
Or down on the beach
Where the sunsets over the Pacific
In neither case was Betty A present
Nor Jimmy
Just her and God
God decided to intervene.
My father found us.
Out scouting around for his wife
Grandpa took custody of the situation.
He knew his daughter better than most.
The young man had seemed a good idea at the time.
But it had turned into a headache.
A nice kid who grew up smart
But could not understand what to do
With his own wife
Cecelia, CeCe
That was the name I was first known.
Later they began to call me Camille
My mother only spoke French to me
For I was born in French territory
The old homestead was a French land grant.
And the Mexico governor Maximillan
Who lived in Chapultepec Forrest?
The only royal residence in America
Was shot and executed by mongrels.
He was French royalty.
They were the discard of the unwanted
Jews of Spain
And refuge of other countries
Unlike America
Who accepted the Irish?
But not the Chinese.
Again, it had happened.
The Earth had quaked.
Below our feet
I awoke to a room full of scared children.
But it was dark and underground.
Confused until realized.
We were buried under rumble.
She had my trusty camera.
She pointed it outwards.
Walls and a hole
Inwards, scared kids
She inched towards the hole.
There it was again.
She had thought she had seen it.
A flashlight in the darkness
She reached out with her hand.
Grabbing the sleeve
OF the man with the flashlight
He froze with shock.
She took the flashlight.
Turned it inwards.
Still a bunch of frightened children
She brought it back out to the man.
Indicating he needed to hold it still.
He did as he was instructed.
One by one the smaller children
Were lifted up to arms.
From nowhere they came
Until only the last body
Lay half buried but was dead.
She herself was too small.
To crawl out without help
Suddenly she was airlifted up.
There they were a group of small survivors.
None of them related.
They were in a school room.
The dead body was the schoolteacher.
Who was still giving instructions?
On ducking under the desks
She found herself amongst
Strangers who were complaining
About the lack of aid, they were receiving.
Her grandfather was there?
Standing amongst them
She ran to him only to find him too sad.
To pick her up
His wife and daughter were under a section.
Of the adjacent building
She cried and wailed as the other women.
Then she heard it the sound of a whistle
While the men were busy discussing things.
She flew over the rubble.
To where a small crack was visible.
And through it was the sound of a high pitch whistle
She began to dig by herself.
The adults were too busy by now.
Counting their dead to notice her.
She found a way through the crevice.
Too touch the extended fingers.
Of her own brother down below
Suddenly there were men on top of her.
They began to pull things away.
Until a small opening was made
He brought out the other children.
But could not pick up his mother.
Nor her mother he said as they
Carried him away from her.
While the men were scouring the area
She slip into the crevice.
Crawling forward with a rope in her hand
She found them tightly wedged.
But alive
She tugged on the rope.
And got a response.
She carefully brought.
Her grandmother around
To hold onto the rope
They began too slowly reel her in
She was still small enough.
But mother on the other hand
Was pregnant again.
She was also unhappy.
Which meant death to anyone?
Who interfered with her misery?
Before she could decide how to deal
With this new situation
She had help in the form of two feet.
Somehow one of the men
Had followed the sound.
Of the conversation
He was walking across.
The rubble when he fell through.
His upper half was still above.
They worked around him.
While he helped pull up
The child who had gone inside
Only to find another adult female
Was lodged under the rubble.
Now sky high and floating above
The sea of hands she found herself.
Back in the arms of her grandfather
Who had received his wives' body?
Only to find her still alive
And quite cruel in her tongue usage
All through the war
She was a radio announcer.
And war correspondent
Everywhere he went he saw pictures of his wife.
Shaking hands with other men
It made him crazy.
Thinking that one day
She was going to be hit with a bomb.
And he would have to find her body.
Then go home and tell his only child.
Of her mother death
Instead, she had survived.
And been shipped stateside
Here she was crumpled.
And not too happy to see him.
Standing over him laughing
Crying with joy
Old man who leads her down the garden path
When she was a young girl
Only to come home broken
She would have loved him still.
Except he took to himself
In his man caves
He had seen too much to deal with
But loved her still.
Here they were on a trip to turkey.
To explain to her what his life
Had been like while she was.
Fine dined and danced.
Through British royalty
And Hollywood celebrity
The final leg was that child.
Of theirs which had been found alive
There was the breathing beauty.
Unwanted by its own mother
But adored by the granparents
Flying thorough the air towards him.
At last his family was complete
But Hazel they had an earthquake.
We had to stay and dig out the men.
The local people were crazy about it.
They believe God intends for these things to occur!
All those years had gone by
Here he stood watching them
Dig out his own daughter
He was a lucky man.
Not so lucky when they got out
And went to recover on the nile
AS she insisted she had to have a river crise
His wife of all those years
Only to find a new sound
Crying out in the night
Another one!
How many times would it happen
His wife could have no more than one child
And her daughter kept.
Popping them out!
She had stood the times
Of troubles with her cousin
Now on her own as an adult
She was faced with an earthquake.
She was accustomed to them.
Being from California
Watching the men scrabble
She felt something deep inside
She found a dog in the streets.
A military man had taught her a trick.
She used bait and a long leash.
She walked him back and forth.
Til he sounded the alarm
Dead or alive
There was a body down below.
Her world kept colliding ...
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