Over the past couple of years our turkey population has been growing. Well, exploding is a more apt term to describe the situation. Over the past couple of weeks my concern for the plethora of turks has been increasing because it's winter time and I just didn't know how the land would sustain that many birds. I mean, most mornings there would be around seventy-five turkeys in my front yard or spread around the farm. It was getting a bit wild.
But as usual, Nature heals itself. It's just that Nature is sometimes, strike that, a lot of the time very, very metal.
As I took my daily walk after the unexpected windstorm we had, I was all sorts of amiable as I strolled along. The shining orb of burning gas that I believe is known as the sun actually shone down upon me as I inspected the aftermath of the storm.
The top of our dying Ponderosa Pine didn't survive the gusts and came hurtling down in the barnyard pasture. It bounced and almost wiped out the corral panels that are stacked under the fir tree. I was pretty happy that no harm was done.
As I strolled further, listening to one of my entrepreneur podcasts and smiling at the corg's antics, I marveled at how lovely the day was. I then noticed the corg was not right on my heels. The corg is always right on my heels.
I was just south of the big arena and as I looked behind me I spied the corg. I also spied a stain upon the ground that was the remnants of what was once a turkey.
A slash of feathers and more than a splash of frozen blood marred the ground. The corg was happily chewing on what was formerly a turkey's leg.
I had noticed the lack of birds that day as I wandered around doing chores. Apparently that lack had to do with predator terrorizing and numbers reduction.
The next day, while on my walk, I saw some of the turks. Seven toms were skittishly trekking through my woods, they definitely didn't look as at ease as they normally did.
And of course, with it being my house, it could never just be an observation of Life at work. Nope, no such luck. Later that day, I was right in the middle of rolling cake truffles when my giant hound/German Shepherd/heeler mix came slinking in through the dog door.
"NO!" I hollered, "You take that OUTSIDE!"
Instead of taking the entire filthy, mud, and blood covered turkey leg back out the way she had come, she proceeded to drop it right on the floor, splattering blood, feathers, and mud everywhere.
UGH!
She did have enough sense to look ashamed and chagrined, so I suppose that helped as I clean up the mess. I must admit it felt slightly strange hurling that turkey leg out into the yard.
Since then, not a turkey has been seen around here. It's eerily turkey-free, which after this year of excess turkey inhabitation is more than a little odd. Everything just seems a bit off.
We'll see if they reappear in any amount...
And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's thankfully free of turkey carnage for the time being iPhone.
Posted Using InLeo Alpha
