Not The Target Market

A Turkey Postscript…

There is an epilogueTurkey-face-plant to yesterday’s turkey observations.

An unfortunate six inches of April snow sent The Hunter out to clean off his truck. Over the past few weeks, when the turkeys have been in residence, they have watched as people have gone in and out of the house and yard. The Toms and their harem would stop and look at what was happening, and then continue about their own business. This morning, however, they took exception. Perhaps they had read the blog. Perhaps they realized The Hunter had designs upon them. Perhaps they were just being turkeys with very little brain.

Whatever the reason, as soon as he appeared, they took fright and then flight. They scrambled about, and in their hurry to be air born and put as much distance between themselves and That Scary Creature, they neglected to take the barn into their calculations.

The result can be seen in the photo.

One after another the turkeys face-planted with a spectacular tha-wonk right into the barn roof. The two large Toms bounced, and on their way back up, managed a wobbly takeoff that defied the laws of gravity. The hen bounced, and then fell into the trees before she, too, managed a very ignoble get-a-way.

The rest of the flock – all hens – cleared the barn with no trouble.

In the late afternoon, the Toms were back. They were alone, however; their harem was missing. It’s my opinion that the girls were probably appalled at the whole unnecessary, undignified episode, and decided to find other genetic material to mix with. Still, the Toms convinced, no doubt, of their own suave charms, settled into the pine grove, where they called and gobbled until well into the evening.

The prospect of seeing the next generation out and about in a month or two seems to be getting a little iffy.

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