When I went for my iPhone holster and found it empty, I panicked. Whoa?  "Where's my iPhone?" I asked, speaking to myself, as I frantically grabbed at my belt, and punched my hands deep down into my empty pant's pockets several times-over as I unsuccessfully felt for a small, flat rectangular object.  My iPhone was missing.    I literally eat, sleep, rest, bathe, and do most everything else with this modern marvel of technology near at hand.    The iPhone has taken the place of my radio, TV, small computer, dictionary, encyclopedia, thesaurus, language translator, news source, camera, jogging-route recorder, pedometer, compass, and besides that it is a communicator extraordinaire, and of course, a hand-held telephone too!   This general electronic marvel is always at hand.   It has become something between a mechanical robotic "Jeeves" and a third hand.  It is always on my belt, or if not there on my  night-stand.  (PS, I would not want to see a bacteriological report on swabs taken from its surface.  It must have a complete and thriving colony of body germs and viruses.  I do give it a scrub-off every now and again with an antiseptic wipe.  But I do it carefully.) It was a busy unusual day, when I attempted to pull my IPhone 4 from its hard-box holster to begin my exercise for the day.  I use my "Map-my-run" app to record each walk and run.   But it was was not there.  Mentally, I quickly ran down my early-morning schedule.  I recalled taking it downstairs to the breakfast table where I read the morning news.  The NY Times, UK Guardian, le Monde, Huff Post and Real-Clear Politics.   I remembered some of the morning stores about the Romney candidacy, Afghanistan and the economy.  So I knew I had it in my possession at home.  I also recalled being disturbed from my morning electronic-read at that time by the frantic barking of our Jack Russell terrier, Milo.  Milo is a ten-inch high canid with the temperament and self-image of three foot high, 90 pound Pit Bull-Mastiff-cross breed.  My fear was that his vocalizations were the consequence of him chasing the mailman or a delivery man across the lawn.  He has been known to chew at the ankles of these "interlopers" into his domain, which more than once has resulted in financial and legal difficulties for me and pain for the mailman.  So I clearly recalled pushing off from the table, and with night-clothes and bath robe flying in my slip stream, I ran off to intercede on behalf of the mailman and protect him or her from torn trouser-bottoms and bloody ankles. Outside, the barking had stopped.  But I spotted the little brown and white dog slowly and silently stalking a delivery-man who had parked his truck near our house.  The man had stopped and turned around to face his pursuer.  Aware of what was going to happen, I raced across the lawn, caught up with the tiny dog, scooped him up just as he was going to bite into the proffered hand of the innocent painter-contractor who was unthinkingly attempting to befriend this mighty-miniature canine whose evil intentions were to draw blood.  I smiled at the man, and waved with one hand, as I tucked the snarling and growling little beast under my robe with the other and marched off back across the lawn. That was just the beginning of a hectic day.   Our regular schedule including a leisurely morning three-mile walk, home for breakfast, a few hours of writing and paperwork, light chores,  lunch and relaxation prior to light entertainment and preparation for an early dinner, had deteriorated on this day into collecting grandkids for school, shopping, a short stopover in the barbershop, then picking kids up from school, and general transportation and baby sitting services.  By late afternoon my wife and I were tired and cranky.  I needed a good walk to clear my head.  That's where I was when I discovered the iPhone was missing. I sought out my "marine ditch bag" which is where I keep all my valuables between "docking" and rising from the bunk in the morning.  A thorough search of bedroom, kitchen, family room, etc. etc. revealed no  IPhone.  Calling the iPhone from our home telephone resulted in no corresponding ring from the missing instrument.   We searched the car, the basement the attic, the clothes dryer, the clothes hamper, the toilets.  No iPhone.  I checked for it in my workshop in our back yard.  F....  called the iPhone while I was out there.  No response...no instrument.    I retraced my steps all morning to the time I had returned.  Finally I called my barber.  "Giovanni did you see a phone in the shop today?" "Yeah, I gotta the phone." "You found the phone there?" I asked excitedly. "No, I gotta da phone. Número 638-7768.  You call me to make appointsament?" "No, no, no.  I lost my phone.". Then I tried speaking loudly into the receiver, saying slowly  "Ho----perduto----mio telefono." "Ahh gats en goul," cursed the barber, sorry and embarrassed he did not understand all at the same time.  "No  sorry, I seen no phone here." In desperation F.... tried  calling the IPhone again. We listened carefully, for it's ring.  Expecting the sound to be faint and far off, perhaps buried under some pillow, some place in the house I tallied the rings up, one,.....five.....six.  I strained my ears to listen for the faint ring. But then  some one answered!   "Hullo?" "Who's this?" Demanded F....sternly.  "Hullo?" "Look, whoever this is, if you found this phone, you better return it to...." retorted F forcefully. The person on the other end did not reply.  The only sound was the clatter and click of the receiver as it was slammed down  on the other end.  "Someone found it and is planning to wipe its data off and use it for themselves," concluded F.... angrily.   She sat down in the chair next to me.  "I bet you lost thats phone in the barber shop, and some creep from town, instead of turning it in,  someone picked it up and now they are going to use it." "I don't know about that...I'm not so sure..." I stammered, thinking of the spartan metal chairs in John's shop and the hard tile floor.   "I know, I'll call K..., (our youngest, most tech-savvy daughter) she will know what to do when some one steals your phone." "Wait!  We don't know yet if the phone is stolen." "Didn't you hear that call?" "Yeaa ....yes." "It 'was' lost. Now it's stolen." F called our daughter  K, who advised us that we immediately call AT&T to cancel the phone account, so that no one could use it to make long distance calls and run up our bill.   F duly made the call and cancelled the account.  At this point, I began trying to think positively about the loss.  After all, the case was scratched.  A fine hairline crack appeared after that fall I had in the winter.   I could use more memory.  The new iPhone five was coming out soon.  Good reasons for a change were piling up.  I was actually not too sad about the loss.  Of course I didn't know at that time of the $300-$500 tab for a replacement. K called back.   "Dad did you have the "Find My Phone" app on there?  "Yes, but don't worry, so much about it. I'm sure it will show up soon." I was thinking now about the new IPhone 5, and was becoming inured to the idea of my loss. But she did not seem to believe me.  "I'll call back," she said determinedly We sat around gloomily for a little while, I thinking of how I wass going to get around replacing all the contacts and other data I had lost, and F.... began thinking of the replacement costs.  Just then the house-phone rang again. It was my daughter K. "I texted your phone,  and sent this message," she said.  The message read: "This telephone does not belong to you.  Return it immediately to where you found it and call this number......"  "Oh that's a good idea, but Mom has just cancelled the account on that phone." "Good, I'm glad she did that. I've got another idea. I'll get back to you right away." Some time passed as we waited. The house-phone rang again. "I contacted your phone using my computer and your "Find My IPhone" app." she said excitedly.  "Dad, the map I see here on my computer,  indicates that your phone is at your home address!  It is somewhere in your house or on your property." "So no one took it?  We didn't have to cancel the account number?" I asked incredulously.  What about the guy who answered the call?"  "No! Mom probably called the wrong number.  Gotta go, call you back." A few minutes later the home phone jangled again.  It was K.  " I have a 'Find My IPhone map'  of your place on my computer now," she said excitedly. " The map shows that the phone is in the backyard near your fence." F grabbed the home phone from me and excitedly scuttled out into the backyard with the receiver pasted to her ear.  As she walked she spoke to K, who directed her toward the corresponding place where the little blue dot was glowing on K's computer screen.    From the kitchen, I watched as F move toward a big clump of emerging day-lillies near our back fence.  I had actually been there earlier in the day and that fact raised my hopes of finding the phone.   F pushed the tangled leaves apart, but could find nothing.  She came back into the kitchen waving the house phone at me.  "No, just a false alarm!  It's not there. I still think someone took it." We sat down at the kitchen table.  By this time we were exhausted physically and mentally.  We had missed our dinner and had been actively searching for several hours.  I was ready to give up. The home-phone rang again.  "You want to get that?" I begged, burying my head in my hands and resting my elbows on the table. "It's K! She has a better map, and has found a way to make the phone ring." said F.  "But the signal is turned off. We shut that number down," I responded.  To myself I sounded like a quitter and non-believer in advanced modern technology.  But I was real tired now. "She says that doesn't matter, as long as the battery is charged." She handed the phone over toward me. I backed away.  "I'm too tired.  Please, you do it," I said, resignedly.  With the telephone at her ear again, F again began taking directions.  K moved her now toward the front yard,  but on the same side of the house as she had been searching before.   I wearily watched through the front window as K described where the little blue dot was appearing on her map at her computer station as she directed her mother this way and that toward that spot on the ground. With the phone at her ear, . I realized that F was slowly walking toward the path that I had been over earlier in the day when I chased Milo down.  A light went on.  Perhaps that was when and where I dropped the IPhone? "Wait, I hear something," said F, excitedly. " It's a steady humming sound," she said into the receiver.  "Make it louder," she requested.  K responded over the phone. "Oh, you cant, I thought 'you' were controlling the sound." A pause in the conversation occurred here, as F crept along the grassy path. "The ring is louder." "Oh there it is, right on the grassy path." My iPhone was recovered!  AT&T quickly and easily restored my number and in a few minutes I was back in operation.   I learned a few things.  It might be a good idea to have and use your security code.  It can prevent loss or compromise of our personal data in case you loose your iPhone someplace where it can be found by some unscrupulous sorts.   The "find my iPhone app"works.  So it should be installed on your iPhone too.  Finally, one must marvel at our modern technology that we have available on hand.   H " "No, you, loosa someting?" "Yeah, John, it was a small telephone, an IPhone." "No soreee, I see no ting?"