Poor Bailey

Bailey, our middle dog and my best friend, almost met his maker this morning. When I opened the door to let him outside after Allison's ride picked her up (I have to wait or he will follow down the road), I saw a flash of black across the porch, the size of a small squirrel. I believe it was a red squirrel, which is not red so much as it is darker, smaller and different from the gray Long Island squirrels I am used to. More like a ferret, but faster. So from the front of the porch to the back corner this black flash went, and right after it went Bailey. I stuck my head a little further out to see maybe what it was, and heard a loud screech and some bumping and scratching. Immediately after pulling my head back in, (and I was fast, believe me) Bailey was right there at the door, waiting to come back in. I opened the door and told him "quick!-come in!" Both of sat in the kitchen, cowering somewhat from this small but fast rodent. He won. We were scared and hiding. I don't like things that move fast simply because, well, I don't move so fast. So if it is something I have get away from, fast, I'm not going to win. So today, I concede. I ran a far second behind Bailey. The squirrel, I believe, is gone. I hope. I haven't been outside yet. We witnessed our first turkey in the pasture this morning. This makes Jerry terribly happy. I'm not sure WHY, but I am also afraid to ask. I want to name him, as he grazes in our field, but I fear that the most appropriate name might be "Dinner". As a meat lover myself, I cannot lay blame. I'm just not always happy to meet first those who appear at my table. More specifically, ON my table. There are days I lean more towards vegetarian. This may be one of them.