Yes. Turkeys. Twelve of them at one point. In our back yard. Not beyond the fence, not across the street on the neighbor's front lawn, actually strolling around within the confines of our back yard.
It's not the turkeys that derailed my morning - turkeys generally are pretty silent and non-intrusive, especially when they're on the other side of a wall. It was the feverish frenzy they whipped both my dogs into that forced me to get up from my desk and deal with the situation.
First, like any good blogger, I grabbed my camera and headed up to our master bedroom balcony for a birds-eye view. You can see the pics from my turkey-shoot here. Then, after fifteen minutes of continual yapping and barking and no sign that the turkeys were going to make their move across the fence and into the greenbelt, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands.
Much to the acute alarm of both my dogs, I went outside without them, completely unarmed, and started clapping at the turkeys, trying to get them to freak-out and fly off. The clapping didn't work, so I got closer and started throwing stones in their direction (not at them, that would be cruel, just toward them so they would get spooked enough to move.) Still, it took a good five minutes for them all to figure out how to flap their wings and make it onto and over the fence. Five minutes where both my dogs sounded like they were being murdered - a combination of whining, crying, and frantic, high-pitched barking. Of course, the neighborhood dogs (of which there are at least 2 in every residence on our street) decided it was a great time to join in.
When the last one was gone, I turned around and walked inside. The dogs instantly stopped barking and started wagging their tails. Yeah, momma took care of it.