The call came just as the wife and eldest son were coming in through the door.

A fellow who lives in a subdivision west of town. Calling me because he doesn't know who else to call.

Now we're not close friends. Have spoken maybe four or five times in about the same number of years. But they were enjoyable conversations, even the one in the penitentiary cafeteria. And you tend to remember foks with your own name.

There's a dog running loose and chasing antelope in their neighborhood.

A small red heeler.

Right away he's got my attention. Anything to keep a heeler out of trouble, especially a red one.

Seems the dog may also be responsible for killing some local domestic fowl. And the woman at the dog's home was unperturbed when confronted by another neighbor. So now this fellow is wondering if our outfit can do anything.

Only then does it click. The neighborhood. A small little red heeler.

I ask which house the dog belongs to. Second on the left. And double check with the wife.

Her godson lives in the second house on the left.

I tell my namesake I know and love that little red heeler. We're connected. Promise him we'll see what we can do.

Not the response he was expecting, but he's satisfied.

So wife calls godson, at work, and scares the bejeebers out of him. Telling about the possibility of his heeler being shot for chasing antelope (yes, it's a theoretical possibility, although I know one warden for sure would have a hard time shooting a red heeler). Then I call the wardens. It is a citizen complaint. They need to know.

While I'm talking to the only warden at home, the wife and eldest son load up again. And leave.

They're home about an hour later. After buying a chain (to be charged to godson's account) and heading west. And searching the horse pasture (and yes, the house... most folks don't lock up around here... in this case, the door was wide open). Finally found the little red heeler running loose through the neighborhood.

And promptly chained her up. Sure she wasn't happy about that, but wife's godson was relieved.

The things we do for heelers.

It was just on the news. About the dismantling of our state's last MX "Peacekeeper" missiles. Thanks to the end of the Cold War. Which leaves us with only 19 Minutemen missiles.

To protect ourselves.

The military man on the television even said so. That the few remaining missiles are even more essential now, since there are still states (his word, not mine) out there that wish to harm us.

Nebraska? I asked the wife.

After a lengthy chuckle, she said "No."

"Texans."