Please forgive this digression from my normal tone and content, but I just saw a bizarre thing on my way home from dropping the kids off at school: a showdown between a black dog and a flock of wild turkeys. This sounds like the start of a joke but I’m telling you, I saw it with my own eyes ten minutes ago.
The turkeys liked the look of this guy’s house. They wanted in, and he fought valiantly to hold down the fort.
Some of you who live in rural areas may not blink an eye at this, but I live in a city. There are no wild turkeys here. I felt like a tourist on safari as I sat in my car snapping pictures, telling the dog he was doing a good job. I was there to offer moral support. He was a stiff old guy with lots of gray and he looked a bit stressed out. I didn’t want him to have a heart attack of something. “Good boy,” I crooned.
It was one versus more than ten. They had the dumb gall of a gang but he had the teeth and every time they closed in on him, he barked and sent them flapping into the street. That black dog and I were probably thinking the same thing: What the hell are these guys doing here and what do they want? Are they dangerous? Are they good to eat?