A Million Little Pieces Of My Mind

This is Finley. Though he looks relaxed, this is a ploy. He's actually listening intently for any crumb hitting the floor.

This is a vape cartridge for medical marijuana, the only medicine that makes my arthritis bearable. Or, rather, it was, before it rolled off my desk and became Finley's chew toy.

At first he seemed normal enough, and I hoped that none of my medicine had gotten into the little guy.

But then he started getting a little wobbly.

And Lilly wondered why he wasn't napping next to her, as he usually does.

Then he got so wobbly the kids wondered what was wrong with him.

Several years ago, Lilly ate a bag of pot; she was groggy for a few hours but then got over it. So I wasn't worried about Finley being making sure he wasn't going to fall off his perch.

Hours passed.

Lilly attempted to lure Finley with some balls.

But he was still sleeping it off.

Eventually the little guy recovered and came to sleep with the rest of us, none the worse for wear.