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Turkey Farm

Turkey Farm

 

The sign read over the driveway: ‘T.G. Givins Turkey Farm’. Young Billy Leggs read the sign and said to his parents, who were driving around on a Sunday in early November, “Hey, I want to see the turkey farm, please.”

"I don't see why not," said his father as he slowed and turned into the long driveway leading to the T- farm. He continued, "Maybe they have some sample turkey legs for the Legg family!"

Father broke out laughing and so did mother. Billy caught the joke and he too cracked up. Meanwhile, his sister, chewing gum as if it was going out of style, shook her teen age head and scowled.

Billy said, “Maybe we can buy a turkey and have it for turkey day?”

“I don’t think so, son,” said dad. ‘‘Besides your sister wouldn’t like a turkey in her bedroom speaking turkey talk.”

“Very funny, Dad,” said Gibbie. “No way am I letting a stinking turkey in my bedroom. That sick and if you do I’ll go stay with Fanny!”

Father pulled into a parking place that was reserved for guests. There were a few cars, but not many. From the enclosed fenced area, three young toms were staring at the new comers. T-1 said, “Here come some more lookie loos.”

“I hate it when the kids pretend to speak our language. I wish they grow up and realize we are a specie just like they are,” said T-2.

“I totally agree, T-2,” said T-3. “ I hate it when they stick their grimy hands through the fence trying to ruffle my feathers.”

“You know what we have over those white skinned meat eaters? I’ll tell you we don’t need a calendar to know when it’s time to pray to the turkey gods that our time is up in this stinking smelly world,” said T-1.

“Here’s how greedy these turkey eaters are. They chow down on forty six million of us every year and it’s increasing yearly. And that’s just on Thanksgiving. Over all, including Christmas, New Years, Easter and so forth the total is over two hundred million of our fellow birds that can’t fly end up in somebody’s stove or oven. My God they are even BBQing us these days and smoking our carcass,” said T-3.

Billy said, “Dad how come a turkeys head and brain is so small and their bodies so big.”

“Well, son, many years ago, back in the days of pilgrims, turkeys used to run wild in the forests. They became adapted to their environment. Nowadays they live in these giant turkey farms and can’t remember what their ancestors did to survive in the wild.”

‘‘I guess it would be the same for chickens, huh dad?”

‘‘Yup, chickens spend most of their time looking for tad bits of food. They also keep one eye on the sky for hawks and eagles. Also, in the old days, like turkeys, they would roost in trees at night to thwart any predators looking for a holiday or Sunday dinner.”

“Let’s get out of this smelly place,” said a nose twitching Gibbie.’‘

“Soon Gib, soon,” said mother holding a hankie to her nose.

“Dad, how do you tell a boy turkey from a girl turkey,” asked Billy.

“Well, male turkeys have a beard of sorts running down from under beak to the chest. Also they have spurs to fight with like a rooster. Finally, they are bigger than females.”

Gibbie asked, “Dad how come you know so much about turkeys?”

‘‘When I was in school, we went on a field trip to a turkey farm. The owner told us all about it and then we had a test to see if we were paying attention. We took a quiz the next day. I got an A,” he beamed.

T-1 said, ‘‘Look at that guy smiling thinking he knows all about us. He can’t know all about us because he is not a turkey. Little does he know that like the Indians we pass our history down orally to the next generation?

“Yea and the Indians didn’t try to kill all of us, they always left some to continue the specie,” said T-2.

‘‘Look out here comes the owner’s son with a net. He’s going to net one of us so we can have those lookie loos feel our breasts. Mine are so heavy it’s hard to walk. I remember being told we were agile and could fly pretty well. Now look at us, we wobble around,” said T-3.

‘‘Or is he going to chop our heads off and package us to those lookie loos,” said T-1.

T-1 said to T-2, ‘‘I’m going to miss our friend, T-3.

“Yes, but think how happy he’ll make that family on Thanksgiving Day,” said T-2.

 

 

 


Turkey Farm

  • ISBN: 9781370005451
  • Author: Robert C. Waggoner
  • Published: 2017-09-20 21:35:07
  • Words: 798
Turkey Farm Turkey Farm