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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

06 June 2009 - 15:11

dognapped

I hear the wife let the heelers out for their "last out" a little before midnight.

And their barking as they tear around to the side of the house.

A cat, I assume. As did the wife, who could not follow, dressed in only her nightgown.

But then the barking changed. This wasn't the barking of pursuit. This was the "Hey!" barks. I start up the stairs.

And hear voices outside. Male voices.

When I reach the front door, the wife has finally successfully called the little maskless heeler inside.

But no blind sister.

I rush out. Across the street, a neighbor and two of his friends are gathered around his fence. One of them is passing what looks like a dog over the fence to another.

Great. Our blind heeler must've gotten into a dog fight with a trespasser.

There is no blind heeler in our yard. I look again at the bundle they are passing over their fence.

It's wearing a light.

They're stealing our heeler!

I must've approached kinda fast. One of the men beats a quick retreat to the porch. The other turns to face me.

Our masked heeler in his arms.

You trying to take my dog! You want to die?

His face shows no guilt. No fear. No alarm.

He's drunk.

He passes the confused heeler into my arms, then takes my hand in a bear grip. And we are formally introduced. I jerk my hand free, but he keeps talking. I now know he is related to the neighbor standing embarrassed behind the fence. And he is related to our other neighbors, although he got their name wrong.

And his buddy, hiding on the porch, dared him to steal our dog for five bucks.

Five bucks.

There are two rifles in the truck right over there. If I did not have my heeler back by now, I would be retrieving one of them.

You want to die for five bucks?

He's really drunk.

And friendly. And congenial. And oblivious to my hostility.

He's a nice drunk.

"Why does your dog have a light on?"

She's blind.

Then why does the other one have a light on?

His friend has stepped down from the porch. I guess maybe the rage has left my face.

"Sorry, man. It was just a bet."

For five bucks.

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