I found a bag of pot on my property yesterday, alongside the road. It was a considerable amount, cleaned of stems and most of its seeds, easily an ounce in dry weight giving it a street value of several hundred dollars.
I've no use for it (fermented carrot juice FTW!) so I threw it away.
Racoons are a habitual problem out here and as I was going about the morning ritual of cleaning up the garbage can spilings I noticed the bag was nowhere to be found.
COON 1: Duuude! You are so wasted! You have these dark circles under your eyes.
COON 2: You idiot, we're racoons.
COON 1: We are? Whoa! I thought I just dreamed that.