You sent me a story earlier this week about fentanyl, okay? Oh yeah. And it's something we've talked about a lot

so I it is a good story and it's from the Boston Globe.

And Eric Wheel, a gregarious 50 year old painter who lives in a wooded neighborhood hugging the shores of Lake Winnipesaki never suspected he would face

felony charges when he called 911 last August.

He had agreed to take in a friend's son who was struggling with addiction on the condition that no drugs be brought into his house.

Lame, but okay.

When we'll discover the packet of white powder in the guest bedroom, he called 911.

Somebody messed up in my house he recalled saying he's on drugs I don't know what he's on can we get somebody here don't call 911 on drugs never call 911 on drugs unless somebody's actually O-Ding. You don't pick up drugs and be like,

oh, I'm going to do something about it. You can flush those down the toilet.

It'll be, if that, you can give them to me.

I mean, I'll take them.

Before you call 911, hand me your drugs. I love like a little gimmick of

fentanyl. When officers arrive wheel tried to hand over the packet of whatever this

drug was but was told to drop it on the gravel driveway.

He did, but picked it up again out of concern.

He later said that his Yorkshire terrier, Schnugabooch, or his free-rain chickens would be exposed.

This guy's got chickens and she's running around.

You don't want to leave a bag of drugs laying on the ground.

There's lots of dogs too that you drop some shit and they just immediately

like, like swallow it up. Yeah, I don't think I'm going to throw these drugs on the ground.

No, okay? I don't want my dogs on drugs. If anything, I want them. Yeah, that dog can't handle the fancy pack.

As he picked up the packet some powder got on his index finger and he blew it off.

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