I have a dog named Danger, and once upon a time, he ate 31 marijuana-infused chocolate chip cookies. That’s right, my dog ate enough pot cookies to put a couple-dozen full-sized humans deep into a state of “Holy shit, I’m high!!” category and lived to bark about it. Before you damn me to “bad dog owner” status, let’s review the facts of that horrid day and some ever-important background about my beloved beast and his savant-level ability to eat things he shouldn’t.
The deal went down early on a Friday morning nearly seven years ago. I had been up late the night before with a friend baking said cookies for an upcoming 30th birthday weekend hootenanny in Santa Cruz. I thought I would help cater the affair with some delicious desserts that included the Devil’s Lettuce on the ingredients list. We toiled away in the kitchen, preparing the cookies, and as the last batch was going into the oven, I retired for the evening, leaving the finishing moves and cleanup to my pal, who shall remain nameless.
Around 7 a.m. the next morning, I awoke to a sound I knew all too well ― the telltale countertop rustling of a 90-pound Aussie/German shepherd mix, foraging in places he shouldn’t. In the mental fog of early morning, an alarm went off in my brain: “Crap, the pot cookies!!” Naked and afraid, I ran to the kitchen yelling Danger’s name. Turning the corner from the hallway, the evidence of what had just transpired was all over the place; my baking buddy had left a stash of some 50 cannabis cookies on a platter to cool in a decidedly non-Danger-proof part of my kitchen.