Staying Straight, For A Good Reason

IN THE BACKWARDS STATE in which I primitively live, deprived, the sale and purchase of marijuana is perfectly legal, but only with a prescription from a primary care doctor. Medicinal marijuana. I have never thought to ask my primary care doctor for one, so who knows what he would say? In all likelihood, no, with caveats and excuses, mostly pertaining to his fear for his own well guarded reputation, would be my best guess. Besides, I have no discernable medical condition which would warrant such a prescription, other than high blood preasure, which my docor has under control through medication of the pill kind. He did tell me, however, that marijuana lowers blood pressure, so maybe I missed my chance on the day he told me that. Maybe I should try again, notwithstanding the fact that one of my best friends, a long time smoker who is not a doctor, told me that, well, frankly, smoking is smoking, and, well, all smoking raises blood pressure. So, who knows? I most assuredly do not. However, yesterday, one of my neighbor's large dogs once again escaped his enclosed yard, and chased one of my outdoor cats out of her own yard. For hours, I was despondent. She came back later, hours later, and I gave thanks to God, Christ, and anybody else who came to mind. Rather than chasing out of state pot, I decided to spend the day at home, with my cats. The dog has since been boarded up in his gated yard, and that should, repeat, should take care of the problem. But my cat, who was so terrifyingly chased out of her own yard, I suspect remains a bit distresed, even though she has been home now for nearly an entire day, although hiding beneath a bush. Better than nothing, and at least its a start, a start back towards her being confident of her own safety in her own yard. I look for her to come back out into the open and rejoin society any time now, knock on wood. the dead wood of my dead and dying drought stricken trees. (Maybe they aren't dead. I'm praying about that too).I recall long ago, when I was no more than ten to twelve years old, my mom and dad were having a conversation, and my father made the remark that the best sign of maturity in a human being is a willingness to postpone personal pleasure in service to a higher, better, cause, such as helping another human being, things of that nature. I agreed with him then, and I agree with him now. Much as I love smoking marijuana, to hell with my out of state weed, for the moment at least. I can make the drive tomorrow, or, more likely, sometime in the coming week, when my beloved outdoor cat has demonstrated a complete recovery from her dog induced trauma, and I can head for the hills feeling not only more desirous of a good toke than ever before, and better rewarded for having been willing to wait for it, but, more decent, more self respecting, a better person, more caring and compassionate regarding my caregiving for my recently dog traumatized kitten. (I call all cats "kittens"). Oh, how I would dearly love to load up that pipe, a one hitter, while listening to my beloved favorite college football team either get run out of the stadium by its superior opponent, or miraculously upsetting said superior opponent. And, in any event, it might be better to not be stoned while my beloved team is getting the shit kicked ouf of it; marijuana tends, at least in me, to magnify rather than ameliorate one's emotional distresses, and the pot paranoia is oft augmented with horror at enemy football teams racing up and down the field scoring touchdowns against my hapless eleven, even though we have a good defense. In so doing I will have postponed pleasure in service to a higher, better cause, the health and safety of my kitten, and my disappointment af staying straight during a good football game will be more than offset by my perception that I will have finally grown up, and become a much better person.