A few years ago, Natalie Mering was living in a tent in New Mexico with her boyfriend, harvesting wild herbs that she’d then send overnight to a company that turned them into “pharmaceutical-grade tinctures,” as she put it. One day, the two of them went to a lithium hot spring (“lots of lithium gas,” she offered as an aside), and they ran into a man sitting in a pickup truck with a small poodle. He was very high on an unspecified hallucinogen. The dog belonged to the man’s mother, as it turned out, and he was feeling guilty about taking it, and that guilt had somehow roped in guilty feelings having to do with Jesus, and generally left the guy a fucking wreck. Mering and her boyfriend took it upon themselves to help.