I can’t resist linking to this article from the Washington Post. Stories about stoned dogs are inevitably funny — in large part because they always end well for the hapless pooch involved.
The patient was Senator, a six-pound, 5-month-old toy poodle. Tox screens confirmed what Moore, a veterinarian at the Friendship Hospital for Animals, had suspected. Senator was on drugs. Marijuana. High as a kite.
What happened: Cynthia Painter, a Chevy Chase housewife who recently relocated from Atlanta, had taken Senator for a walk around her well-appointed building with his best friend, a neighborhood Shih Tzu. Senator picked up what looked like a cigarette butt, which Painter immediately wrested away. “I’m not afraid to stick my hands in there,” she confides. “I’ve had kids.”
But the tobacky, it seems, was wacky.
I realize that in D.C. people may not be as laid back about marijuana as they are here in northern California. On the east coast people may reasonably be hesitant to confess when their dog breaks into their stash.
The Washington Post may have bought Ms. Price’s story, but I’m not completely convinced.
Then again, I also don’t care whose stash Senator consumed. All that matters is that he turned out fine (which was a given considering the nature of his problem) — and provided a funny story to boot.
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