I haven’t smoked weed since the early days of George W Bush’s administration, and even then it was just a handful of times marred by paranoia or intense fits of laughter that were definitely not shared by my friends. Usually, jazz or Chris Rock featured pretty heavily—sometimes it just made me sick. I don’t count the time my wife and I ate half a pot cookie for Tron: Legacy because nothing happened, and frankly, I don’t remember when I took a hit off a pal’s vape pen because I was covered head to toe with sunburn and my skin felt like a hot plate.

What happened was I have an elderly dog. She has bad hips, and most mornings my wife and I need to help her get up from the bed. We know we’re about one trip away from our final visit to the vet, but so long as she can hobble her way to the door and still go to the bathroom, then we’ve got a dog in this fight.