After burning a .39-gram joint of the Catalina Wine Mixer, I stood outside watering for an hour. The effects were bite-y. Confrontational. True.

This is some strong bud. Psychedelic? That bite, it's another level. We put our dog Hugo down two weeks ago. It's hard not to think about him 24/7, especially when I'm high, especially if the strain bites, which the Wine Mixer certainly does. It's that Sunset Sherb in there. As a parent in a cross, its effects always seem to carry through. The high is almost immediate and it will reach into your closet, into the depths of your mind and grab anything it can to throw at you. This is probably what freaks out less-seasoned smokers. This is what gets called paranoia. Nay. This is part of the process. You cannot run from what is already in your mind, what has already happened. Go in knowing this. Face what you have to face. Get through to the other side.

I have serious second thoughts about putting Hugo down when we did. Why didn't I fight harder to keep him around? Why didn't I realize I would miss him this much? I'm having to look in the mirror. No dog to scapegoat any more. This hurts but it's my reality and I need to handle it. At least I can stand outside and water the plants during what has turned into something of a drought.

As my Dad said recently from his nursing home bed, "It's complicated, but it's not complicated. Crippled by a years-long dementia, he still dishes the odd bit of wisdom and I take in every drop...