About midafternoon, many people gathered at the Methodist Church across the road. There was a large black hearse. I didn’t notice when it got there or where it came from. The old chicken came out of nowhere, “Quick, you have got to move further back!”

For the last couple of weeks, the news has been non-stop about a certain person being missing, perhaps kidnapped. I am saddened that a certain person’s mother is missing, but how many other people have become missing during this time frame? 50? 100? 1,000? I have no way of knowing.  

I decided I had to find Pete and Jim. I knew I would not be happy until I did. It can’t be that hard – the old chicken had given me the address. The next morning, I ask her if she knew where Ivy Hill Drive, Cincinnati, Ohio was. She stared at me and said, “west.”  

Perhaps we have collectively decided some of the crazy stuff we have been experimenting with as a country is not so good for us after all. I hope so.

I was completely flabbergasted and dejected. I had not planned on this. I needed a new plan. I decided to stay in my old doghouse until I could get my thoughts together.

We have people rioting now who either don’t know recent history or choose to ignore it.  

When I got to the end of the lane, there was nothing but empty buildings. No people, no animals, the corncribs were empty, nothing. They had left, and the only thing left was Buttons’ old doghouse, which I had used. I was completely dejected. They really had gone to Cincinnati, wherever that is.

On Jan. 19, 2026, a group of activists (thugs) intruded upon Cities Church in St. Paul, Minnesota, because a local ICE official serves as a pastor there. Approximately 30 hours later and 1,772 miles to the southeast, the College Football Championship was played at 347 Don Shula Drive, otherwise known as Hard Rock Stadium, in Miami, Florida.  

Jim put me in the old Corvair, and we headed down the lane. I could see Pete just standing there looking at me. I watched until I could see him no more. We turned left on state Route 506. We stopped at a stop sign in a small village and then went straight on. I was memorizing the route very carefully because a wild, audacious plan was forming in my mind.

It seems to me if you don’t want to get harmed out in the streets, the right idea is to stay home. Petition your federal or state representatives if you don’t like the laws as they stand. Or go to the media. The actions in Minneapolis remind me of the old films from Russia in 1917 and onward.

It was early August 1968. Pete and I were walking back from the briar patch after an unsuccessful hunt.

Invading other countries that harm us, directly or indirectly (like Venezuela)? We’ve been doing that since Thomas Jefferson.   

My name was Tippy. I was a Beagle, owned by Jim Thompson in the late 1960s. Since dogs cannot talk, this narrative is mostly a stream of consciousness from when I was alive. By the way, when I am dreaming here, the narrative will be encapsulated thusly: {D dream narrative D}.

I think we should start a morality program. Oops, we have one. It is called the Christian churches.  

Today, it would take a year’s worth of counseling to go through what we did that week. We just tried to take it in stride in those days.