Lady contemplates her addiction
The private life of a cocker spaniel is, well, more sordid than we could ever have imagined. This is indeed a cautionary tale for all who will listen.
The Dog Who Loved to Suck on Toads
“We noticed Lady spending an awful lot of time down by the pond in our backyard,” Laura Mirsch recalls. Lady would wander the area, disoriented and withdrawn, soporific and glassy-eyed…”Then, late one night after I’d put the dogs out, Lady wouldn’t come in,” Laura Mirsch says. “She finally staggered over to me from the cattails. She looked up at me, leaned her head over and opened her mouth like she was going to throw up, and out plopped this disgusting toad.”
It turned out the toads were toxic — and, if licked, the fluids on their skin provided a hallucinogenic effect.
“We couldn’t keep our dog’s addiction a secret any longer,” Laura Mirsch says. “The neighbors all knew that Lady was a drug addict, and soon the other dogs weren’t allowed to play with her.”
In the end, Lady seems to have found a way to manage her problem.
“She seems to have outgrown the wild toad-obsessed years of her youth,” Mirsch says, “and now only sucks on weekends.”
Wow. Do you think it was her horrible childhood? Low self-esteem? Being teased all the time for being a “dog”? Or perhaps, do I dare suggest it? She just liked the feeling and there was no good reason whatsoever to be a drug addict except for the fact that she was bored, had nothing else to do, it was fun, and knew someone else would take care of her? Lady could have just said no, but she didn’t. Say no that is. She did–say no to no. She said no to the wrong thing is what I’m trying to say. She said “yes” to toads, “no” to, uh, no.
Yes, you see, this is the end of the toad, er, road for those who have absolutely no reason to develop any personal responsibility or independence. Lady’s childhood was fine, even idyllic. She was confident and happy. Until she put a frog on her mouth. All it takes is that one time. And then you’ll be reduced to being thrilled about doing it “only” on the weekends.
Isn’t that the way it always happens?
And one last thing–dogs weren’t getting high until George W. Bush became president. Think about that.
A Relatively Unrelated Post:
Ahh, good old bufotenine 🙂 At the grave risk of showing my age, I first read about it in high school, in The Anarchist’s Cookbook. Um, you might also want to keep Lady away from peanut skins and banana peels 😉