I think I'm past the timing for olden offenses.
I'm a mix in that it has always been obvious to me that pot is fine, though I know it's gotten many more variations than back in my day, and that variations can be strong. My day wasn't even my day, as I'm preboomer era; I liked it fine, but I preferred gin and tonic at the time. Never had my own.
It's true, though, that my dog ate the weed my then business partner's boyfriend had stashed. Boy, was he pissed off. Sandpaw did live to see a lot more days in life. He's sometimes an avatar by me, the shepherd-looking dog at the top of an iron staircase, casing out his journey down to the yard and getting away to the beach. He was a traveler, found in the first place as a puppy on the railroad tracks behind our place.
I still don't get why a person can't raise one damned plant in their house or garden. Or am I wrong on that? I may want brownies again in my future.
Meantime, I just read a New Yorker article that wakes me up = about a site called Erowid, Boy, have I been out of it..
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/11/23/the-trip-planners