Esme was the smartest dog I ever knew.

She literally taught herself to fetch. Watched Teddy — he would just chase a thrown ball, taste it, and run to the next distraction. Ezzie figured out as a puppy that if she brought it back to her human, he would be tickled and throw it again. And again.

She’d learn to sit and find a toy on command. If Teddy did something he was not supposed to — like crap on the couch or eat my leather wallet — Esme would actually leave the house when I awakened. I would come to learn Teddy had misbehaved through her cues: If I heard her exit when I walked in from the bedroom, I’d know to brace myself.

Esme was perpetually cold. She’d laze on her back in triple-digit Valley heat.

She treated guests as if she’d never had company in her life.

She loved the car as much as her brother.

She did not mind a little 420.

She stood her ground, regardless of size.

And she stood guard.

Her favorite thing, though, had to be the 5 p.m. fetch. Since we both required evening meds — her for a brain tumor, me for the transplant — we’d rush our way through our evening doses to beat a path outdoors.

There, we’d play Esme’s version of fetch. More of a hide and fetch, I’d say.

Any dog can chase a ball and bring it back. Esme preferred you hide the toy and send her on a search mission. She would do this for more than an hour, and I usually wilted in the sun before she.

The night before she died, Esme did something for the first time in her life: made a noise.

I knew Esme for 11 1/2 years, and not once did I hear her bark. Not. Once. She may yip the rare dream, and snored like a motherfucker. But she made Dirty Harry look like a gossip queen.

Last night, though, she gave a soft, sustained whimper. Twice. I came to her bed to see if she was dreaming. Her eyes were wide open, her head against a blanket. I sat next to her and scritched her belly. The whimpers stopped. I rubbed her until she nodded off.

She was reminding me the time.

“I know,” I told her.

She knew too.

Editor’s note: This column comes from Midwest Bureau Chief (and lifelong Michigander) Daniel Brochstein:

In an empty street in front of a domed state capitol building, a line of cars and trucks rolls up and parks curbside. Doors swing open on a gloomy Friday morning, May 1 to be specific, men clad in leather vests, worn jeans or Carhartts, ball caps of various varieties and bandanas covering their faces.

Their goal is to peacefully protest the governor’s emergency orders essentially closing the state for non-essential activities. This would become commonplace at selected state capitols across the country. What made this protest become world news were the small arms brandished.

Colt AR-15 and AK-47 semi-automatic rifles, locked and loaded slung over shoulders. Revolvers and semi-automatic handguns holstered on belts and tactically holstered to legs – several times the firepower of the State Police security detail that guards the staff and legislators of the capitol.

The protest, dubbed the “American Patriot Rally”, was organised by Michigan United for Liberty. It called for state businesses to reopen on 1 May in violation of state orders.

The mix of decidedly angry protestors and firearms raises the tension in any scenario. Add an opposing security force and intention makes all the difference. This rag-tag force of protestors was determined to walk right into the front door of the capitol building, right past State Police troopers. Armed protesters then tried to enter the floor of the chamber, and were blocked by state police and sergeants-at-arms.

Welcome to Michigan.

Michigan is an open-carry state, and tends to celebrate 2A much more than 1A. No law or ordinance exists prohibiting the carrying of firearms on state capitol property. Nothing stopped them from entering the state capitol building.

Except for a mandatory temperature check, of course.

A message sent 

Cooler heads would barely prevail, but the protestors made their point. In their view, preventative actions to stop the spread of COVID-19 virus by Democratic Governor Gretchen Whitmer were purely punitive. In their opinions, this wasn’t an overly-protective governor safeguarding her constituents from a pandemic that was hitting her state hard, or trying to secure the blue vote during an election year. This was a rogue governor who was on a vendetta, trying to deny their Second Amendment rights, and overstep her boundaries by exercising authority granted to her by the state and her election by the people.

No shots were fired, no blood of patriots spilled. But the message was sent. 

We will come for you, Governor Whitmer, and you’ll be removed from office by means other than a democratic election.

Then, President Donald Trump threw jet fuel on the fire, when he Tweeted, less than a day after personally introducing government regulations supporting state shutdowns, “LIBERATE MICHIGAN!”

“If Trump is with us, who can be against us?” a United for Liberty member Tweeted, yet another on the Right likening the president to a deity.

With the President’s support, the leash was off.

Anti-Whitmer sentiment flooded patriot-related Facebook groups. These closed groups, unmoderated and easily joined, quickly filled with horrific posts. Members using their real names (and a few fake), posted how they wanted Whitmer removed as governor.

They didn’t want her voted out next election cycle. They wanted her dead in the most violent ways possible.

Hanging was by far the most common means, but firing squad, beheading and flaying were close runner ups. No talk of recall campaigns, petition drives or further protests. As with most keyboard warriors, rage-posting from baraclougers, basement man-caves adorned with WWF signs and Brock Lesnar posters and from behind the front counter at the BP station, there’s more toothless rage then real intent.

But as months passed, and Governor Whitmer continued to extend the state of emergency, loose knit action groups became more cohesive. Paintball Warriors changed their Saturday rituals to simulate storming the halls of government, and mail-order night vision goggles, body armor and embroidered Punisher patches were arriving on rural Michigan porches. Infowarrior cruised farm community Main Streets with handmade “Lynch Whitmer” signs duct taped to their side of their trucks. So it’s no surprise to most Michigan residents that today 13 militia members were arrested for planned insurrection.

The Wolverine Watchmen

Meet the Wolverine Watchmen.

They planned to execute an operation to kidnap Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer in transit to or from her summer home or the state capitol before the November 3 election. From initial reports, they planned an assault using Molotov cocktails and small arms to “destroy the police.” The plot was foiled by the FBI, who infiltrated the group.

According to Michigan AG Dana Nessel, the suspects called on other members to identify the home addresses of law enforcement officers in order to target them, “made threats of violence to instigate a civil war leading to societal collapse”  and engaged in the planning and training for an operation to attack the state Capitol building and kidnap government officials, including Whitmer. 

According to the FBI affidavit, the accused purchased items including a Taser and night goggles, conducted surveillance at Whitmer’s cottage, and discussed blowing up a bridge to divert police, kidnapping Whitmer, and taking her to Wisconsin to face a “trial” for treason.

While many Michiganders on social media and news forums applaud the arrest of the “Gravy Seals” and “Delta Farce” militia men, most agree that there is nothing patriotic about overthrowing a government or inciting Civil War, the voices of support for the Watchmen is still strong enough to hear above the din. 

Michigan is more of a hotbed for militias than previously, and there was a strong presence before. The level of organization, “technical proficiency”, and dedication to the cause has always been questionable. 

In under 24 hours, the Wolverine Watchmen went from being a militia group, to being classified as a terrorist organization. Not the place in history they thought they would occupy.