Our Dog Wouldnt Stop Barking at the Thanksgiving Turkey, When I Finally Checked It, I Called the Police
One Thanksgiving turned out wilder than ever when our dog, Max, refused to stop barking at the turkey my husband had just brought home. At first, I thought he was just begging for a taste, but when I finally unwrapped the bird, I discovered something that had me dialing 911.
I’m Ace, short for Athena—a 32-year-old wife, dog mom, and, as of last Thanksgiving, an accidental participant in what felt like a crime drama.
It all began Thanksgiving morning when my husband, Kyle, offered to pick up the pre-ordered turkey from the butcher so I could focus on preparing our feast. “Be back soon!” he chirped before heading out.
But “soon” stretched into over an hour.
When Kyle finally returned, he looked disheveled and distracted. His hair was a mess, and his smile seemed forced.
“Had to run a few extra errands and help Mom with something,” he explained before his phone buzzed again. “Great, now Mom’s car broke down. I’ve got to go help her.” And just like that, he was out the door again.
His rushed demeanor felt off, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Thanksgiving waits for no one.
That’s when Max started his antics. Normally, he’s excited for scraps during the holidays, but this was different. He planted himself in front of the counter where the turkey sat, barking nonstop like he was trying to save the world.
“Max, enough! You’re not getting raw turkey,” I said, but he wouldn’t let up. After 20 relentless minutes, I gave in.
“Fine, let’s check this out,” I said, grabbing scissors to remove the turkey’s plastic wrap. That’s when I noticed something odd—more plastic peeking out from the turkey’s cavity.
Curious, I reached in and pulled out a plastic bag filled with cash. Thousands of dollars in cash.
“What the…?” I whispered, staring at the bag in disbelief. Max, triumphant, finally stopped barking.
Questions flooded my mind. Why was there money inside a turkey? Did Kyle know? Did the butcher make a mistake? Could we be tangled up in something illegal?
Feeling spooked, I called the police. “Hi, um, I found something… unusual in my turkey,” I explained awkwardly.
Two officers arrived shortly after. Officer Johnson, a seasoned professional, looked unimpressed by anything short of the apocalypse, while his younger partner, Officer Miller, looked like he’d walked into a live crime scene.
When I showed them the turkey and the cash, Officer Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you get this turkey?”
“My husband picked it up this morning,” I replied.
Before I could elaborate, Kyle walked through the door with his mom. His face went pale when he saw the police.
“What’s going on?” he asked hesitantly.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Officer Johnson said. I pointed to the bag of cash.
“Kyle, why was there money inside our turkey? Do you know anything about this?”
Kyle hesitated, darting glances between me, the officers, and the turkey. Finally, his mom gave him a nudge, and he blurted, “Okay, fine! The money’s mine.”
“What?” I asked, stunned.
“I was trying to surprise you,” he admitted sheepishly. “I cashed out my savings for a trip to Hawaii. I didn’t want you to find it early, so… I stuffed it in the turkey.”
“You what?” I said, incredulous.
Kyle explained that, in a moment of panic, the turkey seemed like the safest hiding spot. His mother vouched for his story, though she didn’t shy away from scolding him for his harebrained idea.
Officer Johnson chuckled. “Son, in all my years, I’ve never seen anyone hide money in poultry.”
Kyle handed over a withdrawal receipt to confirm his story, and the officers, still amused, left us to our chaos.
Later, I gave Kyle a stern talking-to about his lack of foresight. “What if I had roasted the turkey with the money inside?” I demanded.
He scratched his head, looking sheepish. “I didn’t think of that.”
Max, our hero of the day, got extra turkey scraps for his efforts. We spent the rest of Thanksgiving sharing the absurd story with family, laughing at Kyle’s expense.
Eventually, we did take that trip to Hawaii—and it turned out to be the start of another adventure, as it’s where we conceived our baby. Someday, I’ll tell our child the wild tale of how they owe their existence to their dad’s infamous “turkey cash stash.”
So, listen to your dogs, folks. Sometimes, they’re onto something big. Happy Thanksgiving!