Who would think they’d love a turkey?
We got you when you were one day old. We kept you in a box, lined with several sheets of newspaper, and a light to keep you warm. You lived indoors with a few other baby turkeys (Narragansetts) until you were big enough to go outside. You were all moved to a special pen, with. a warming light. You were the biggest one in the flock.
You made friends with me when I was thinning a row of arugula. You helped by eating the thinings, and not getting my fingers. It is comical how a turkey can go cross-eyed when he closely examines a bit of food.
Every day you watched the kitchen window for activity in the house. If I didn’t come out in time for your breakfast, you got next to the peach tree, closer to the house, and called for me.
You tried to sleep on the porch rail, but people often had to go out that door and it disturbed you, so you moved out to the garden. You were there to supervise the planting of the garden. You strutted up and down the paths with your approvals. You walked us all around the garden and supervised all activity.
You loved to have visitors in the backyard. When we ate at the patio table, you paraded in front of everyone. You were the prettiest boy. You said, “psssst psssst,” and shook your feathers, “barrruuumm.” Your head turned blue and your strut became more elaborate.
You liked to meet me at the hen yard door, so you could have the first mouthful of food, before I filled the feeders.
You stayed with us eleven years.
You molted every fall, and I made friendship feathers from your sheds, and a dreamcatcher too.
You survived many a Thanksgiving feast. You were my special boy.
I have put you under the peach tree, so you can be near the kitchen window. I hope you like it there. I will miss you calling me. I will miss you walking me around the yard. Say hello to my other beloved pets, who are with you now. I love you Buddy.