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In 1970, President Richard Nixon signed the Controlled Substances Act, which classified hallucinogens including lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), dimethyltryptamine (DMT), mescaline, peyote and psilocybin as Schedule I controlled substances, simultaneously starting the US government’s war on some drugs and immediately ceasing all research into the medicinal properties of the hallucinogens. As Schedule I controlled substances, these substances have no accepted medical use and therefore cannot be prescribed by a physician. Worse, the substances are thought to be so dangerous—even though early trials in treating alcoholism and mental illness were favorable—the government systematically increased its control such that almost all research was curtailed.

Only now are scientists taking another look at these substances, through the lens of medical use. Schaunacy Ferro, writing for Popular Science, reports that in the last 10 years, the government has slowly and begrudgingly allowed researchers to conduct small human trials. Initial studies indicate promising results for using one of the newest entries into the Schedule I controlled substances family, ecstasy (MDMA), to treat depression and post-traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD). Other researchers are re-investigating the usefulness of psilocybin and LSD to treat alcoholism, anxiety in the terminally ill, and and other maladies.

In order for a researcher to work with any of the hallucinogens, she must meet all of her institutional requirements, plus obtain FDA approval and be licensed by the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) to store and work with the particular substance. Ferro reports the approval and licensing process takes about nine months although researchers say “the DEA’s not in a hurry to grant these licenses.” Additinally, the approval and license must be renewed annually. Currently only 349 researchers have the necessary approval and license, and that number is declining.

The difficulty of getting necessary approval and licensing is just a small part of the problem. The largest part of the problem is that there’s no money in the research. Big Pharma isn’t interested in funding the research because as Rick Doblin, founder of the Multidisciplinary Association of Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) notes in a 2012 interview with Ido Hartogsohn, writing for Reality Sandwich, the hallucinogens are relatively easy to make in a basic chemistry lab and “psychedelics are off-patent, can’t be monopolized, and compete with other psychiatric medications that people take daily.”

How much further along would we be, individually and collectively, had our government not been so short-sighted.

A study recently published in the Proceedings of the Royal Society B, “Vocal copying of individually distinctive signature whistles in bottlenose dolphins,” finds that bottlenose dolphins call each other by name—through a process known as signal copying—when separated. The dolphins communicate through a series of whistles instead of words.

“Animals produced copies when they were separated from a close associate and this supports our belief that dolphins copy another animal’s signature whistle when they want to reunite with that specific individual,” study author Stephanie King of the University of St. Andrews Sea Mammal Research Unit told Jennifer Viegas, writing for Discovery News.

According to King, dolphin whistles are used to broadcast identity and presence information and can carry for more than 12 miles in the water.

Unlike the vocal learning in birds, where signal copying is used aggressively, the dolphin signal copying was not found to be used at all in aggressive situations and “occurred almost exclusively between close associates such as mother–calf pairs and male alliances during separation.”

Forty-six years ago, California made lysergic acid diethylamide illegal. The next year, 1967, it was classified as a Schedule I controlled substance by the US government. As a result, all research—illegitimate as well as legitimate—was forced underground.

Now, finally, the hallucinogens are being given a second chance by above-ground researchers. Erik Davis, writing for Aeon magazine describes the work being done by chemists, neuroscientists, psychiatrists, and psychologists as “an extraordinary resurgence.” Even more importantly, Davis writes, the new research allows us the opportunity to examine the question of “whether there is any room for sacred forces in the increasingly dominant neurological portrait of the human being.”

Recent studies on ketamine, for example, reveal an efficient treatment for depression. “Interpreting depression as a hardware problem largely caused by the loss of synaptic connections, the researchers argue that ketamine works by encouraging sprightly neural growth in brain regions correlated with memory and mood,” writes Davis. Unfortunately, the pharmaceutical industry has responded by removing the sacred side effects of the psychedelic experience, leaving only a profane “neurone fertilizer” to paraphrase Davis.

It’s pure reductionist mechanics and a mistaking of side effects for the sublime according to Davis:

“By sweeping such sublimities under the rug of toxic ‘side effects,’ the researchers and their partners in industry want to sidestep the remarkable paradox that psychedelic substances present to brain-based reductionists: Psychedelics are material molecules that frequently occasion experiences that look and feel, for all the world, like the sort of mystical or religious raptures whose unfolding cognitive content calls into question strict materialism. In other words, reductionist researchers of powerful psychedelic effects must still squirm before God—or at least before the experiential states that recall the ecstatic reports of traditional religious mystics, or of shamans making pacts with non-human entities, or of meditators seeing into the knitted web of self and world.”

Davis’s article is one of the best things I’ve read this year. In fact, most everything in Aeon magazine is exceptionally well done. Highly recommended.

In mid-March, Annabelle Joy, our wonderful American Eskimo Dog—who came to us via Perry and Stacie Mancini at the American Eskimo Rescue and Sanctuary in Saint Charles, IA—was diagnosed with an especially fast-moving and spreading bladder cancer. She wasn’t expected to live more than three to six months and we full expected to have to put her down by the end of spring.

But Annabelle Joy didn’t get the memo, and seems to be doing excellently. Knock on lots of wood. Here’s a picture of her from last Sunday, 9 September 2012.

Annabelle Joy 9 September 2012.

When we got the diagnosis, Karen and I both agreed that it was time to spoil Annabelle Joy. She still gets her regular kibble (for more than 40 years, I’ve fed all of my dogs Science Diet, but that’s going to stop after reading the linked review). Annabelle Joy also gets fancy lamb food from a tube with her pills and twice-daily feedings. She won’t be getting much more of this either, based on the Dog Food Advisor rating.

She continues to be treated with 5 mg of Piroxicam (a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID)) each morning since her diagnosis. Annabelle Joy is the second American Eskimo we’ve rescued. Both have needed 32 mg of Phenobarbital twice daily to prevent seizures.

Annabelle Joy will be 11 on 9 January (we’re not exactly sure, but we long ago decided to have her share a birthday with Karen). Here’s hoping she makes many more. My meditation/prayer for her, several times each day, is that her remaining time be as comfortable, painless, joyful, and peaceful as possible.

Yesterday our beloved rescue dog, Annabelle Joy, a beautiful American Eskimo Dog, was diagnosed by a surgeon/veterinarian at the University of Minnesota as having fast-moving bladder cancer. We first noticed her taking an inordinately long time to urinate about a year or so ago and kept taking urine samples to our long-time veterinarian Fred Pomeroy (he’s so old school he doesn’t have a website). The urinalysis consistently came back clear and she’s 10 years old, so we all just attributed it to the aging process.

Annabelle Joy 10 June 2011.

Two months ago a urinalysis indicated Annabelle had a little blood in her urine. Fred figured it was either a urinary tract or bladder infection and prescribed an antibiotic. Checking again earlier this month revealed the antibiotic hadn’t worked and Fred prescribed a stronger one. That’s one of the things that I like best about his approach to veterinary medicine—don’t bring out the big guns until absolutely necessary.

My wife Karen took Annabelle in for a teeth cleaning (I know, I know, this is new to me too) and Fred’s associate, Katrina Schimmel, decided to take a closer look with the ultrasound machine. She found what she was almost certain were polyps in Annabelle’s bladder and referred us to the University of Minnesota for a cystoscopy.

After two days at the University of Minnesota’s College of Veterinary Medicine Small Animal Hospital, the news was not good. After Kaylee, a graduating DVM student (the University of Minnesota will graduate 90 DVM students shortly), took Annabelle’s history and did a general check-up, we met with veterinary medicine resident Kristin Schafgans. She suggested additional blood work, another urinalysis, and another ultrasound. We agreed to the blood work and urinalysis but declined the ultrasound.

The blood work came back just fine and the urinalysis showed blood and dilution (Annabelle’s urine has always been diluted because she drinks a hell of a lot of water).

We took her back the next day for the cystoscopy and got the bad news by the end of the day. Karen texted me the diagnosis while I was on my Wednesday dialysis treatment. There’s nothing worse than being confined to a dialysis chair for hours, knowing the bad news and not being able to do anything about it.

Currently, Annabelle is being treated with 5 mg of Piroxicam (a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID)), 250 mg (x2) of Clavamox (an antibiotic) and 50 mg (x2) of Tramadol (a pain killer) each day.

We’ve been told she has three to six good high-quality months of life left. We all intend to make the most of it.

If Annabelle Joy isn’t the best dog in the world, she’s in the top two.