Her boss's son sadly is a pot head. I do not mean someone who has the occasional hit, he is stoned every waking moment.
She had to tell her boss that she could not work with him because the smell was making her ill.
I have anosmia from a near fatal TBI so I have no idea what I’m breathing at any given time.
My PTSD dogs have been pretty good at pushing me away from chemical-ly things, generally.
Hrafi is a great smoke detector, of all freakish untaught-but-apparently-innate talents.
Somehow, he just knows I can’t smell anything at all and is epic at making me aware of dangers.
If I’m in a store and get near a doper, my scrawny arse may well wind up in an ER from a sudden “inexplicable to me” asthma attack due to the mold spores in ALL pot.
Just so stoners can walk around happily stupid.
This has been a personal nightmare of mine and now it’s come to pass.
It’s compounded even more horribly by the fact that my service dog gets too tired, too fast with 3 legs now and is not going with me to watch over me.
I loathe liberals and potheads.
If I survive losing him, and get another PTSD dog, I wish I could get friends in the LEO to train it as a real drug detector dog...that bites stoners.