More Dog Thoughts
In The Teachings of Don Juan, author Carlos Castaneda digests six peyote buttons, gargles with tequila, and shortly thereafter receives a visit from an “iridescent” dog that had “water flowing through him, kindling him like a bonfire.” Castaneda then went to the ground and drank water from the dog’s pan and “saw the fluid running through my veins setting up hues of red and yellow and green.” The dog and Castaneda began to play with one another. “We played and wrestled until I knew his wishes and he knew mine. We took turns manipulating each other in the fashion of a puppet show…his most impish act was to make me scratch my head with my foot while I sat. The action was to me utterly, unbearably funny…I laughed until it was impossible to breathe.” Years ago, I experienced something remarkably similar with my dogs, and I wasn’t under the influence of peyote. I was wrestling with my three big dogs in the yard, becoming one of them, and laughing so hard that it bordered on convulsing. Not too long ago, I digested magic mushrooms for the first time, on a hike through a forest to the ocean, and the waves became iridescent, a sea lion appeared in a tiny cove and sort of barked in my direction. All the depression in my life vanished into thin salty air and I was possessed with an instant clarity of consciousness of the kind that heretofore was unknown to me. It occurred to me in that moment that I really wanted to go on a beach run with dogs after digesting magic mushrooms. It occurs to me now that I probably should have done so before writing the dog book. Oh well.