Talking Turkey

a turkey herd

Today I am grateful to talk turkey.  I know those pudgy little fowl will be the mainstay of many of your upcoming holidays so it seems timely to share a little story.

 

Himself and I are total suckers for seeing things in their natural environment.  We almost peed our pants when we saw jumping dolphins in Mobile Bay, Alabama.  I almost sacrificed him by automatically putting his window down so the moose would come closer in the Canadian wilderness.  I can still hear the ground rumbling from the charging elephant at Way Kompas in Sumatra, Indonesia.  Wild deer always give us pause as long as they are not lunging at our car.

 

Himself has been a squirrel “hunter” for years.   I even got him a costume for it one Christmas, complete with a tiny squirrel sewn to a camo hat.  No, silly, I didn’t get him a real gun.  It was a water pistol.  He’d hunker low at the barely open bedroom window, “pistol” locked and loaded with water, waiting patiently for a squirrel to show up at our bird feeder.  It turns out they appreciated the power washing way too much to let it  deter them from the feeder.  Nice hotel, great spa and the food isn’t bad.  All on my patio.

 

We had to get rid of our feeder because according to the homeowners association it was too close to our house.  Boo.  So now I’m being stubborn and not putting one up at all.  If I can’t see them from my patio window fuggetaboutit.

 

So the other day I was sitting where I usually do when I’m on my computer and in the corner of my eye, I see one of my favorite neighbors heading up the slope to fill his bird feeders.  No big deal.  Then I see him run up again only this time without the bucket of food.  Then he runs up again.  And again.  And again.  When I see him the next day I ask if he has a new exercise plan?  “Damn squirrels,” he says.  I would have offered him the power water pistol, but Himself broke it.  He didn’t want the hat.  Too bad.

 

So what on earth does this have to do with turkeys?  Wait for it.  You know I’ll get there eventually.  Well. . .another friend has a mom near Boston, who is elderly and ailing, so she’s been calling to see how her mom is.  I might be paraphrasing a little, but not much when I share the conversation she told me about between her and her sister.

 

Her:  Hi, how is mom doing?

Sister:  You should see how many turkeys are in the back yard.

Her:  Okay, but how is mom?

Sister:  I can’t even count them all.

Her:  Is mom still with us?

Sister:  Let’s see, 12, 13, 14. . .

Her:  That’s a lot.   But I’m at work, so how’s mom?

Sister: 23, 24, 25

Her:  I’m going to have to go soon.  Mom?

Sister:  27!!!  There are twenty seven turkeys in the back yard!  Wait, one is trying to get in the house!

Her:  Get the out the pot and shove him in there.  You’ll be ahead of the game.

Sister:  I scared him off when I screamed at him.

Her:  Are you feeding them?

Sister:  Yeah, I had to get more food and I upgraded it.

Her:  Well no wonder they’re hanging around.  And mom?

Sister:  I know.

Her:  But, mom?

Sister:  She’s fine.  Hey!  I don’t have any more squirrels, though!  They don’t like the turkeys.

 

If I see “wild” turkeys roaming around our back yards, I’ll know my neighbor read this and hired them for patrol.  We love seeing things in nature. . .apparently just not squirrels at the bird feeder. . . unless they can talk turkey.

(If you can take more of me, go to http://heartprintsdotcom.wordpress.com)

Share this Post:

One thought on “Talking Turkey”

Comments are closed.