Turkey Tales on Turkey Day - fun humour

Hello, and Happy Thanksgiving and best blessings to all the readers out there!

I certainly hope that Doug The-World's-Most-Patient-Editor is off today, but in honour of Turkey Day, I am sending this recent recantings that I sent to some of my heritage turkey friends around the world.  Maybe it will get posted after we have all recovered from dinner day and are gearing up for shopping (me?  Not so much ...).

It recounts a recent, funny event that I had with some visiting friends and my two pet turkey girls, 1.5 year old Royal Palm, Cricket, and 1.5 year old Spanish Black, Bleu Belle.  Enjoy!

Blessings,

Dorene
I had some friends come over recently to meet the birds.  I tried to show them my Personal Turkey Races.  This is one of the most glorious games that I do with turkeys that I can think of.

I run down a nearly 3/4 acre hill.  They jump WAY UP on their tippy-toes to start, stretch those LONG! GLORIOUS! necks up to the skies - stick their nearly 5 feet in diameter wings out to their sides, and take OFF!!! running and flapping after me down the hill, usually in wildly, joyfully eradic, zig-zag patterns.

We get to the bottom, engage in one of those football-style huddles for Game Plans and Snuggles, and repeat, running up hill.  This involves even MORE dramatic running, flapping and zig zags, and these are HUGE, BIG birds right on my heels.

So, I wanted to show this to my guests.  Who wouldn't/couldn't be impressed, no?

I ran down the back yard hill all  by myself.  I ran back up all by myself, had a discussion with the girls  and tried to reassure my guests that I was normal (my two friends already knew differently; their friend that they brought over to meet her first Silkie chicken and see Turkey Racing was harder to convince).

I ran down the hill again.  Same results.

Puffing slightly, I returned up the hill and grabbed Cricket.  Ran down the hill with her, put her down, ran back up the hill.

Yup, all alone.  Cricket strolled up sooooo casually, demurely batting  her eyes, and re-joined the fanning, strutting, displaying Bleu Belle prattling about at the feet of my guests.

I picked up both birds and carried them down the hill (walking, this  time).  Put them down.  Ran back up the hill.  Yup, you guessed it.

All alone.

Rejoined my increasingly un-impressed audience.

A few minutes later the turkey girls rejoined us, not even panting. I  still was.

I gave up.  Here - you can look at this instead -


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Dorene (now buff), Turkeys (still strollin')