All the Lane family slept deep one night
when Daisy Mae, their beloved basset,
discerned the smoke alarm’s feeble
beep, the battery being so low.
The sound sufficient for an
able canine; Daisy now
one manic pooch,
heroic dog in
full rescue
mode.
The fire started
on the stove because
a burner had been left on.
As a result, ignition began in a
frying pan with coagulated butter;
smoke wafted relentlessly like a
genie loosed from a lamp who
flexed muscles long dormant.
The Lanes dozed unmoved.
Yet Daisy’s ears perked,
her nose knew smoke,
her ears received
the signal quick.
Daisy leapt up carpeted steps
to the second floor, a howl
intermingled with yelps,
a riot of hound apace
at bed’s edge, dog
desperate in full
blown ruckus.
All Lanes saved,
the house a total
loss. Daisy awarded
a Golden Fire Hydrant
by the fire chief, plus
hugs all around.
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