We have a screened patio in the back of our house, and Jordi spends a lot of time there. But what he really likes is to go clear outside into our unfenced yard. That's what he lives for. And when it's a nice day and I'm home, he'll cry and cry and cry at me until he wears me down, and I take him out.

I can't just let him out by himself, because he'll wander off. I have to watch him. And even that doesn't always work.

Like today. I was standing out on the porch reading the latest BusinessWeek, shivering for the sake of my little golden boy. He was out on the ridge at the back of our lot, looking for mice, his favorite pastime. He wandered a bit behind the neighbor's property, in a little thicket area, but I was watching. Then, suddenly, as I looked up from my magazine (how long had I been reading that particular article?), he wasn't there. No problem. He was probably in the little dip behind the ridge. I went out to make sure that's where he was. And he wasn't there.

Hmmm. I roamed all around the area, looking. No luck. Pam saw me searching. "Did you lose Jordi again?" she asked. Because this wasn't the first time. "I did, and I was even keeping a close eye on him." Pam got her coat and joined the search.

It's awful when this happens. The thought of not finding Jordi creeps into my mind, and I can't imagine that. We've done this search-and-locate thing many times, because he can take off in a blink, lured by a mouse or rabbit, or maybe just because he was zoning out and he wandered along and we weren't paying close enough attention. But it hadn't happened in a while. And after 15 minutes of looking, I was getting pretty worried. What if Jordi was gone for good?

Well, of course I prayed. "Lord, help us find Jordi." I've prayed far more about finding Jordi than I have for the salvation of my neighbors or relatives. And Jordi's eternity is no doubt predetermined--he ain't goin' anywhere. At least, I'm not one of those people who think our pets will be in heaven. If I had to live with all of the pets I've had during my lifetime, that would be one crowded heavenly mansion. But still, I pray more for Jordi's whereabouts than I do for my neighbors' eternal whereabouts. Perhaps that's normal for us devout pet owners sans kids.

I could say that Pam found Jordi. Or I could say that God led Pam to where Jordi was. I prefer the latter. He was two houses down, hiding in some bushes. When Pam rattled a container of treats, he moved enough to ring the bell on his collar, and he was busted. And tonight, all is well in the Dennie household. One happy family. I can't tell you the situation in my neighbors' homes. Maybe that should concern me a little more.