"Listen up, turkey...if you don't run, I can't chase you..."

I watched my dog follow the turkeys around the yard today. It's a slow speed chase through the underbrush, over the porch, and around the house. He never catches them, and you can tell this is by design. He just wants to keep them in his sights. If they run, he runs. If they walk, he walks. If they stop, he nudges them to get them to run again. It's fun to watch. But it makes me wonder what Indy's motives really are.

Is he just enjoying a little playtime with turkeys? Or is he thinking of the future. Is he aware of their true purpose in life? Can he puzzle out the reason they're here? After all, the turkeys of today are tomorrow's leftovers, right?

One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong.

When the turkeys are out, Indy can be found in their midst, and when they're in their pen, he can be found napping at the entrance, waiting for them to come out again. In the end, I think he's just having a grand adventure. The chickens have become boring--yesterday's news. The turkeys are new and exciting, and they make weird noises. And dogs love things that run around and make noises. Indy practically worships the ground they walk on.

Like he's worshiping at the temple of turkey. I'll be interesting to see what happens as the birds grow up.

Until the next time...I'll leave you with more pictures of Indy and the turkeys.

Today is not my birthday. Yesterday was not my birthday, either. But that didn't stop me from wearing a sparkly pink birthday crown through the evening at karaoke. Why? Well, the birthday girl didn't want to wear it, and since I signed her book last night, she suggested I wear it and pretend I was Katie at her birthday party. Oh, and it matched my outfit. And you just can't waste a sparkly birthday crown when it matches your outfit.

Now, before you ask, I wasn't drunk, I didn't even drink, (though I did eat more than my fair share of red velvet cake) but there I was, hot pink v-neck top and pink crown, singing like I owned the joint. And it was a busy night. Tourists wished me happy birthday so many times, I almost forgot I was born in December.

And let me just say, tourists at karaoke are a funny sight to behold. There was the pseudo cowboy, singing pitifully off-key, with his Bluetooth headset in his ear, wearing a ten gallon hat (committing a sin against cowboys everywhere by wearing sneakers instead of boots) two enormous wads of keys dangling precariously near his crotch (whether to draw attention or distract, I wasn't sure) and cuffed jeans.

Then there was the aging stripper (oh, you would have made the same assumption if you'd seen her) who danced provocatively near the stage while demanding no one take her picture because she's (and I quote) "...in the witness protection program" (insert eye roll here), then climbed on to the stage to sing (I'm using this term very loosely) the worst rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, I've ever heard. And ok, I know this makes me a terrible person, but as she belted out the lyrics in such a way that made my mother sound like Celine Dion (sorry Mom, but you know you can't carry a tune) I was singing along with my own lyrics, "whores just wanna have fah-uhn. Oh, whores just wanna have fun."

I'm sure people thought I was drunk, I was laughing so hard. And this was before the local drunken grandma got on stage to hump one of the local guys singing a ballad. So yeah, me in a birthday crown seemed somewhat normal by comparison. And that's why I love this little town. I fit right in with the crazies.

Until the next time...I'll be trying to get my dog to wear the crown for a picture.