Crouched on the fallen tree trunk, Laurel watched Gem’s progress. She saw the back of her dog’s head surrounded by large, triangular shards of glass sticking out from the window frame. She felt an urge to call Gem off. An injured dog would be of no use to the search team! But before she could open her mouth, Gem had already leaped through the window and disappeared.
Laurel inhaled sharply and hopped down off the tree trunk, then paused to listen for any sounds of alarm. A whimper. A yelp. She didn’t hear anything. When she reached the heap of tree roots and debris Gem had scrambled up, she carefully climbed up herself. At the top she saw it was too dangerous for her to cross the makeshift bridge. She couldn’t follow her dog. With a tense sigh, she sat down to wait.
The moment her body was through the window, Gem realized how far away the ground was on the other side—too far. She had no choice but to free-fall to whatever lay below, and somehow managed to land on the roof of a car that stuck out from the several feet of mud that had flowed in to cover the garage floor. Her paws clicked and then slid on the curved metal roof, sending her into a kind of four-legged split. She scrambled for a moment and then forced her strong leg muscles to pull her paws in toward one another until she was upright.
She paused to get her bearings. Standing on the roof of the car, Gem lifted her head high and sniffed. She detected lots of things … metal and gasoline and the myriad odors wafting from the liquefied earth … but no humans. The more time she had on the scene, the more skilled her nose became at sorting out the unique smells created in the slide, which made it easier to single out the one thing she was looking for: living victims.
There was no need to stay in here. She lifted her nose, searching for a draft or a whiff of fresh air that might lead her to an easier exit … one that wouldn’t require her to leap through the shards of glass she had managed to avoid on her way in.
She detected nothing. There was no other way out.
She whimpered quietly as she stood there, her claws slowly sliding away from one another on the metal roof of the car. She wished she could see Laurel. Just a glimpse of her person would give her strength. Instead she gazed up at the window she’d just come through. It was several feet above her. There was a low roof rafter she could jump to, but, like the rest of the roof structure, it was broken. It could be wobbly.
“Gem?” Laurel’s voice drifted through the window. She wasn’t right there, but she was out there, somewhere. Not too far away. Waiting. “Gem?” Laurel called again, louder and firmer this time.
The sound of Laurel’s voice helped Gem get moving. She leaped onto the rafter and braced as loosely as she could for balance. She heard the wood creak under her weight and felt it drop several inches before catching on another beam below. Gem waited until everything was still again. She eyed the window. There was definitely enough space for her to get through—she’d made it in—but coming at it from below would be harder … a lot harder.
Outside, Laurel was starting to panic. She could see the broken window with its shards of glass like teeth in a large, angry mouth, and nothing else. It made her think of circus lions jumping through rings of fire. It didn’t seem possible that any creature could come through unscathed. Laurel wished she hadn’t removed Gem’s vest. It had been so heavy with mud she was worried it would make movement more difficult, or get caught on all the wreckage, or … The worries were endless.
Inside the collapsing structure Gem lifted one front paw, then put it down and lifted the other. Her foot pads practically vibrated on the beam beneath them—nerves and anticipation. She had to leap, and leap perfectly. She steadied herself. She crouched ever so slightly so as not to lose her balance. Then, in a single, powerful motion, she launched herself toward the window with every ounce of strength she had, willing herself to fly right through …
Gem sailed through the air toward the window, her front paws pointed directly at the middle of the opening. Her aim was solid, and her front legs soared through easily. She felt a little scrape on her left side as her torso cleared the frame. She was basically out! And then, just as her front paws touched the makeshift bridge, her back right leg snagged on the jagged edge of the window and twisted. A second later she landed with a whimper, steadying herself with three legs on the plank of wood.
Laurel winced as she watched her dog land and tried to assess the situation from a distance. There was no way she could cross the bridge to where Gem was standing. They locked eyes for a long moment.
“Come, Gem,” Laurel called gently.
Gem gingerly put weight on her hurt leg and made her way across much more slowly than she’d gone in the other direction. Laurel could see that she was limping, and felt an instant flash of dread. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and her breath sharpened. It reminded her how vulnerable dogs could be. Fear flooded in: Bluto’s hidden heart problem, Gem’s Lyme disease, which could reflare at any moment. Her eyes started to well with tears.
“Stop,” Laurel told herself quietly so Gem wouldn’t hear. “You saw her leg get caught. It was an accident; it’s not an illness.” She took a deep breath, and then another.
Gem was getting closer, and a few moments later Laurel was able to put her arms around her dog. Her good dog Gem. She leaned her forehead into Gem’s neck, ignoring the fresh mud, taking a moment. “Good girl, Gem,” she told her. “Such a good girl.” Just having the pup close helped Laurel gather strength. She got up on her knees, pushed her fear aside, and began a physical evaluation.
It wasn’t easy to do an assessment on a dog who was half-coated in mud while sitting on a tangle of upended tree roots and debris, and Laurel briefly wondered if she should move to another area, or hose her down again, or get help from another rescue worker. She looked around and quickly realized that there was no better place nearby. She’d already used their fair share of precious water, and all the rescue workers were busy and overwhelmed. Besides, she reasoned, she knew Gem better than anyone.
Laurel took her time feeling everything and looking for injuries. Gem was patient with the process, even though it took several minutes. Miraculously, Gem didn’t appear to be bleeding or even cut. But she did wince when Laurel pressed on her back right leg, down low.
“Sorry,” Laurel told her. “I don’t think either of us thought this deployment would turn into constant medical checks!” She gently felt all around Gem’s hock joint, the spot above the paw that bends back, checking for mobility. It was definitely tweaked, and possibly sprained. She took off her backpack and rummaged around for a roll of medical tape. Wiping away some of the mud, she wrapped the joint as best she could. It wasn’t her finest work, but would offer the leg a bit of support. As she finished, Gem leaned forward and licked Laurel’s face, as if to tell her that everything was okay.
Laurel offered Gem a little bowl of water, which she happily lapped up, along with a bit of kibble. When the bowl was emptied, Gem thumped her tail on a broken tree root. Her leg was sore but not much. She wanted to work!
“Are you sure, girl?” Laurel asked. As prepared as she was to keep going, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was the right decision. She closed her backpack slowly, thinking. How far could they push their luck?
Gem was back on her paws—all four of them—and had her nose in the air. She thought maybe she’d just caught a faint whiff of human … live human! She let out an eager bark.
Laurel got to her own feet, nodding. “All right,” she agreed. “Let’s keep looking. People need us.” She was smiling at her brave, wonderful dog as she gave the command to “find!”
Gem leaped down off the mass of tree roots, landing gently on all four legs. She put a fair amount of pressure on her sore leg to test it. She felt a twinge, but the pain wasn’t bad. The wrapping Laurel had put on definitely helped! She picked her way around a mass of power poles and lines, and then a couple of boulders and another uprooted, broken tree. She was in mud up to her belly, but it was starting to feel normal.
The next house ove
r was a smaller, single-story bungalow. Much of the back of it had been built with glass doors and windows, almost all of which had been smashed during the slide. The other exterior walls of the house were mostly buried in mud, and a section of the roof had been torn away. Gem could see a hole where the roof had been, about ten feet above where she stood. There it was again—the smell of human! It was stronger over here—she was on the right path.
She turned to Laurel, who was thigh-deep in muck at the moment and trying to navigate some utility poles. “It’s okay, Gem,” she called. “Find!”
Gem scrambled up a fallen, splintered tree trunk until she could see across to the opening in the roof. She panted a little as she looked inside, to give her nose a bit of a break. She’d have to jump … again. She looked back at Laurel … again. She saw her person nod the okay.
Gem stopped panting and took a deep whiff, capturing the scent cloud in the opening behind her nose. It was definitely there … human. Living, breathing human. She alternated the weight in her paws from one side to the other … back and forth on the tree trunk without moving forward. Back, forth. Back, forth. She stopped padding and crouched low. Finally, she leaped.
All this wild jumping was new to Gem. She’d had to take some leaps during training but never with such uncertainty. Gem didn’t mind flying through the air—she kind of liked it—until it was almost time to land. About-to-land was the part she hated. She was glad it didn’t last long.
This landing was much better than the others. It was all mud. It didn’t taste very good and it splattered everywhere, but it didn’t swallow her up or hurt her.
Laurel watched her dog disappear with another dive into something else she couldn’t see, and swallowed hard. If she weren’t knee-deep in sludge she would have paced. As it was, she could only get as close as possible and wait. She reminded herself that it was Gem’s job to search, and her job to be there for Gem. She was doing the thing she’d been trained to do. They both were. “Trust,” she told herself. “You have to trust.”
Gem shook off as much mud as she could. She could feel a glob of it over her eye but could still see okay. She sneezed to get it out of her nose—smelling was essential! A giant boulder stood in the middle of the room with pieces of smashed furniture littered around it. Gem sniffed her way around the huge stone. The smell of human was stronger in here for sure. She stopped moving and pricked her ears to listen, but the sounds of rescue workers and machinery echoed throughout the neighborhood and filled her ears.
She sneezed out a little more mud. She had to focus on what she did best—sniffing. She ignored the smells of wood and metal and Sheetrock and concrete and mud, zeroing in on human. Human!
She moved slowly, letting the scent lead her. The smell was strongest in the hallway, but the entry to the passage was completely blocked by broken furniture and splintered wood. Gem let out a frustrated whimper and pawed at the bottom of the blockage. It gave way! She pawed again, and again … and moved the mud aside.
She kept at it, her paws digging and digging, creating a slippery path under a broken table and an upturned easy chair. Faster and faster she dug, to keep ahead of the mud that wanted to slide back into place. She stuck her nose through the blockade, and then her chest. Paw over paw over paw. And then, with a push, she was on the other side.
Gem got back up on all fours and shook. She’d made it through! This was the best she’d felt all day. Her mud-covered snout quivered. The smell of human was almost overwhelming!
Outside, Laurel watched a rescue worker “pole” the mud around the structures, sticking his long metal rod into the endless lake of brown gunk to feel for anything unusual beneath. She wished she could pole right now, too—that she had another job to do. One that kept her busy. Following Gem as she searched was making her feel a little useless, and helpless, even though it was her job. Between their scenting and physical abilities, dogs were far better equipped to do a higher level of searching and exploring. And they needed a human partner. Gem needed her.
Laurel took a sip of water and let out a slow breath. Knowing this and feeling okay about it were two different things. She preferred keeping busy at all times … she was a Doer with a capital D. Gem had been out of sight and in the house for twenty minutes now, and Laurel was getting twitchy. It was so hard to wait!
“She still inside?” one of the workers called from nearby.
Laurel turned to the voice and nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s probably a good sign,” the worker said, pausing to wipe the mud from his face … and only succeeding in adding another smear. Everything and everyone was covered in muck. “Maybe she’s found something.”
Laurel felt her heart lift a bit. That was what she wanted to hope, too. Gem was skilled. If there were living people around, she would find them. She would! She took another sip of water, letting herself savor the cool, clean taste of it before swallowing. She sat back and waited for Gem’s bark.
Inside the house, Gem squelched her way down the hallway. The door to a small closet had been ripped off its hinges, and bottles and jugs of cleaning supplies were scattered everywhere. A leaking bottle of bleach made Gem’s nose tremble and almost blocked out the scent she was tracking. She kept going, one mud-slurping paw in front of another, letting her nose decipher the smells. Soon the chemical smell began to fade and the human scent came back into focus. She was getting closer!
A bark tried to escape her throat, but she held it in. She had to be certain there was a living person in here before alerting Laurel. She came across a giant heap of partially folded sheets and towels that had tumbled into the sludge and climbed over it.
The door to the bathroom was wide open, and also blocked by a large painting that had been knocked off the opposite wall. Gem lifted her nose, and there it was, even stronger … human.
Gem pawed at the bottom of the framed art, but it didn’t give. She couldn’t dig it out of the way. Could she jump over it? She wasn’t sure—the mud in the hall was holding her down. She whimpered a little and pawed higher. The canvas tore! She pawed at it some more and shoved in a paw. She ripped at the stiff fabric until there was a hole she could wriggle through.
Her nose detected everything as she moved past the frame, wiggling her hindquarters until they were free. She bounded forward, toward the claw-foot tub that was tipped on its side, and found what she was looking for. Curled inside was a teenage girl in the fetal position. Gem nosed her as gently as she could, then a teensy bit harder. She got no response. She leaned in close and gave her cheek a single lick. Warm breath swirled near her face! The girl was alive! Excited, Gem sat down and let out a bark. She barked and barked and barked!
The rescue worker, whose name was Erik, was still poling nearby when the faint sound of a bark reached Laurel’s ears. Her head swiveled. That was a bark she’d know anywhere!
Erik saw Laurel’s reaction. “We need quiet!” he called, holding his hands in the air. Arms straight up was a signal used to silence a disaster scene so that rescuers could hear a canine—or any other—alert signal. One by one, pairs of hands rose upward, and voices and machinery were silenced. Laurel’s heart leaped into her throat. The muffled bark was easier to hear now. It was most definitely Gem, and it confirmed that she had found someone alive! Deep inside the wreckage, but alive!
Gem paused in her barking to scoot closer to the girl. The curled-up young teen didn’t have as much heat coming off her body as most humans did. She felt cold, and Gem knew that wasn’t good.
Gem licked the girl’s hand and nosed her arm. She still wasn’t moving, but Gem could feel shallow breath on her snout whenever she put it close to the girl’s face. She lowered her body, curling in tight beside the motionless girl, trying to offer warmth. Once she was settled in close, she went back to barking.
Outside, a crew was preparing to deploy into the house—Erik, a second medic named Tommy, and Laurel were coming in. A crane operator maneuvered closer with his cherry picker, and they all squeezed ont
o the gated work platform attached to a hefty, motorized arm. A minute later the platform was being lifted high into the air, then rumbling closer to the house and the hole in the roof.
“Whoa,” Laurel said as the heavy machine operator pulled levers and they descended into the living room. “That boulder is huge.”
The platform came to a jolting halt just above the top of the mud and was locked in place. The team stepped off their mobile platform, the lower part of their legs quickly enveloped in mud. Laurel, who was keeping one ear on Gem’s barks at all times, could tell that she was at the end of a hallway. The light was dim, but she could see that the passage was blocked. Knowing her dog and guessing how she would have tried to get through, Laurel looked down and spotted the trace of the tunnel Gem had created, already mostly refilled with muck.
“She dug her way through,” Laurel told the other workers, dropping down to her knees and moving mud and debris aside with her hands.
“Smart dog,” Eric said. “Tommy, let’s try to clear some of this stuff while Laurel digs,” he suggested.
Tommy nodded, and they moved a side chair, some kind of sculpture, and part of a bookshelf out of the way. Between the three of them, they were able to widen the passageway enough for humans to get through.
Gem Page 13