Over the next few weeks, I learned a lot about Sadie – I even told my mom I thought I knew everything about her about a month into living with her. I knew she LOVED giving “Sadie kisses” to people, but used not dogs. She detested other dogs. The kisses were bites with dogs – even my mom’s dog, Mr. Bobo, another adopted cocker spaniel from the Humane Society I adored – Mr. Bobo and I met while I was in college and we had our own really special relationship of our own. When Sadie bit Mr. Bobo, I sent her to my room for two hours! I was mad. But I digress! I also knew she loved chasing anything that moved outside – except cars – but motorcycles and trucks she loved chasing, along with any kind animal - and absolutely refused to go outside when it was raining. She knew how to give high fives and I taught her how to shake and roll over. I knew if she slept near my head, she was feeling insecure – by my feet, she was fine. That covers the basics, right? Apparently not.

Sadie and I would go for walks on a trail behind my apartment complex that lead to a lake every day. I’d hang my legs off the low cliff that fell down into the lake bed and Sadie’d sit on my lap without her leash. In an Alice in Wonderland moment, she’d chase a rabbit that randomly hopped by but would always come right back. This day was different. Our rabbit friend hopped by us, who I’d appropriately named Alice, and Sadie was off. After five minutes, she didn’t come back. So I started calling her. When she didn’t come, I got up frantically jumped up and searched for her. After what seemed like forever, I found her lying on her side with frog legs hanging out of her mouth. I screamed, stood her up on her hind legs and forced the frog out of her mouth – and the frog hopped on its way? Sadie, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

She was standing there – not the hyper, wiggly doggie I knew – she was just standing there still looking off behind me at nothing, foaming at the mouth.

I snatched her up, ran back down the path, grabbed my keys and took her to the nearest veterinarian.

So apparently, frogs are dogs’ crack. Somehow, they instinctively know that something on frogs’ skin will interact with their saliva, which will give them a high like no other.

Sadie the Stoner was lucky, the vet said – if I hadn’t found her when I did, she could have died – I gave her a lot of water and watched her that night. She finally stopped foaming in about an hour and was back to her bouncy self by morning.

That day, the tables got turned for me. I know it’s completely different having a child than a dog – but I, like a lot of my peers, went through a “wild” stage. I was so scared for Sadie that day I took her into the hospital – I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified of losing anything. I’ve only had one friend who was forced to go to rehab by her mother. I wasn’t that worried about her at the time because I thought she knew what she was doing. I realized that day with Sadie that anything can happen when someone has a poison in them – even if they think they’re going to be OK. I’d never been much of a believer in the war against drugs until Sadie started foaming. I can’t imagine what it must be like for people with immediate family members with a serious drug problem. I love Sadie SO much – but at least I can know where she is all the time and have a handle on the situation if she ever grabs another frog and starts sucking before I realize what she’s done.