Toads and stools

Some years ago I bought a book entitled, ‘The Mushroom Picker’s Foolproof Field Guide: The Expert Guide to Identifying, Picking and Using Wild Mushrooms.’

Initially, I had harboured some naïve notion that I would be able to stroll around outside my home and avail of autumn’s free bounty, hunter-gathering my way to a more enhanced life appreciation. That notion lasted as long as it took for the book to arrive in the post whereby I soon discovered that nothing relating to picking wild mushrooms was going to be foolproof.

For example, a Destroying Angel (which as the name suggests wouldn’t be great for your future life appreciation) looks very similar to an edible Button Mushroom. Moreover, a Yellow Stainer (another poisonous baddie) can look like a Field Mushroom and a Satan’s Bolete (give-away name) can resemble a Cep or Penny Bun.

For a man who has bother differentiating between washing powder and fabric softener in the supermarket, I soon decided that foraging for wild mushrooms and not dying might be something of a tall order.

And thus the book was closed on this chapter in my life, literally and figuratively. I assumed that I would never again crack open the not-so foolproof field guide. That is, until Waffle discovered a dodgy-looking ‘shroom under some trees beside our house.

The Waff and I had been taking the air on one of those calm November evenings last week.

Well, I had been taking the air while Waffle found it necessary to pollute the base of the nearest tree with a long stream of carefully nurtured Lucozade. After taking care of his toilet, the Waff then disappeared around the fence, I suspected, to sniff out some other errant hound’s Lucozade.

Knowing that I needed to keep an eye on the Hairy Fool lest he became entangled in another form of canine cheekiness (or worse still, die of stupidity), I followed him around the fence only to be confronted with a strange sight: Waffle was bent over a toadstool inhaling, mostly likely, a wild miasma of funky spores through his shiny black nose.

After shouting incoherently for Waffle to desist with his sniffy ministrations, I approached said ‘shroom and realised immediately that it was not a welcome stranger. Resplendent in a red cap and white spots, I was looking at the quintessential fairy-take mushroom.

After a brisk trot back to the house, having hoked out the aforementioned book, I flicked through the pages until I found what I was looking for: A Fly Agaric.

I took the book outside to compare the photos with the real thing but there was no mistaking it.

Containing a raft of toxic alkaloids, consuming a Fly Agaric would not end well, the book explained. Ingestion is soon followed by nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea, excessive salivation, perspiration, watering of the eyes, slowed and difficult breathing, dilated pupils, confusion, and excitability.

“I don’t think we’ll be putting that bad boy in an omelette any time soon,” I told Waffle who looked at me with perfect pan-faced indifference.

Then I had a thought: Is a Fly Agaric harmful to dogs?

In a word (after I consulted Dr Google on my phone), yes.

“Symptoms can appear within 30 minutes to 12 hours after ingestion and include vomiting, diarrhoea, lethargy, seizures, hallucinations, excessive drooling, and tremors,” I read aloud from my phone.

Given his flimsy constitution at the best of time (Waffle can’t eat a Wotsit without suffering an allergic reaction), I checked the big toadstool for bite marks. Thankfully, there was none but just to be on the safe side, I called Waffle back into the house, closed him in the kitchen and visited the shed for pair of rubber gloves. These donned, I stomped back to the Fly Agaric like a man on a mission, fully intending on plucking the offending ‘shroom from its shady bed and feeding it to someone else, AKA the black bin. After all, I couldn’t very well leave this beautiful poison just sitting there for Waffle or some other dog to eat when next they passed.

But when I arrived at the shady bed, the Fly Agaric was nowhere to be seen.

Standing on the roadside sporting rubber gloves and a bewildered expression, I would have looked an un-pretty sight to a passer-by. I glanced up and down the road and into the fields but there was no-one and nothing around. The Fly Agaric had simply disappeared.

“Curious and curiouser,” I said to the evening.

Honestly, at the time, I thought no more about it; I was simply glad it had disappeared and that I didn’t have to touch the deadly fungus. However, the strange disappearance continued to bug me in the days thereafter and I couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to the Fly Agaric. I thus returned to a consultation with Dr Google on my phone in a bid to solve the mystery. What I discovered was very interesting and most importantly, enlightening.

Three different creatures can eat a Fly Agaric without suffering from the toxins therein. The first two – slugs and fungus gnats – I ruled out as the culprits immediately seeing as how the fungus disappeared within a span of 60 seconds – two minutes at most.

The only other creature that is able to eat a Fly Agaric without experiencing an adverse reaction? And this makes sense because there’s a family of them living at the end of my road.

A Red Squirrel.