Pre-Basted

We had our annual Thanksgiving dinner with the ISU crew in Minneapolis tonight.

Scott and Ryan hosted the dinner this year at their place. 24 people and enough wine and food for 40.

I think this is fifth year we've gotten people together. I got home and was thinking about last year's dinner.

Colle+McVoy was nice enough to give its employees gift certificates to a local meat market last year for a fresh turkey. On Saturday morning before the dinner, Aly and I took Otis to the dog park. From the dog park, we took a short detour home to pick up our bird.

We picked out a 25 pounder and got Otis butcher bone. We put Otis and the bone in the far back of the Jeep, the fresh bird in the back seat and started to make our way home.

Going 75 down the interstate, I peek into the mirror and notice Otis had crawled into the back seat. The last thing we needed was a vet visit for a dog with salmonella poisoning, so I hollered at him and told Aly to push him back into the far back.

Aly turns around and her face drops. Crap.

"What did he do? Did he eat part of the turkey? Aly, talk to me," my mouth is moving as fast as the car is moving. I'm trying to turn around and see behind me while keeping us on the road.

White hot heat hits my face.

Otis, in all his glory, had positioned the turkey between his front paws, aimed and vomited on top of a thirty dollar dinner.

With tears running down my face I swerved across lanes of traffic to the first exit. Threw the Jeep into park in a boat dealership while Aly and I ran, gagging, out of the car like it was filled with bees.

We ended up making it home and wiped the bird down. Seasoned the bad boy and cooked it for the group. Halfway through dinner, we made a toast. Thanking friends, good fortune and turkey pre-basted in dog vomit.