No wine in this post....
A Nantucket sleigh ride is an eighteenth and nineteenth century term for what happened when whalers in a small boat harpooned a whale. The whale was usually upset by the idea and would take off swimming while dragging the boat that harpooned it along for the ride.
It rained overnight so the grass was extremely wet when Scott and I ventured out for his "morning constitutional." We went no more than ten feet when he spied a squirrel on the ground. Off went the squirrel, off went Scott, and since I was holding the leash I went on the sleigh ride, being dragged by a 75 pound dog in hot pursuit of a squirrel that refused to go up a tree. Slick soled shoes became small surf boards on the wet grass. It all ended when my feet hit the sidewalk while the rest of my body continued on. Fortunately that was when the squirrel decided to go up a tree and Scott stopped. Disaster averted.
We came back in and decided on raspberry waffles for breakfast to celebrate my survival. Tonight there will be wine!