?

Log in

No account? Create an account
breeden
ursulav

Ground Control to Maj–HOLY CRAP!

So for the last week or so, we’ve been catching sight of this young male turkey in the wooded area on the other side of the fence. He’s got the brilliant head, so we’re pretty sure he’s male, and he seemed to be lurking in the woods, livin’ the bachelor life, all that good turkey stuff.

A bit small, but a fine figure of a turkey, we thought. Surely he will have no trouble attracting some sweet young thing and all her friends to be his harem!

Today I got a look at the competition.

Dude.

Tom is going to be single for a very long time.

The turkey strolling about twenty feet from the fence-line was like the Platonic ideal of a male turkey. He had an enormous belled chest and a stiffly fanned tail and his snood (the dangly bit off the beak) went on for miles. He was gigantic. He looked like every “before” Thanksgiving turkey picture  you ever see, and he hasn’t even gotten to the fattening up stage of the year yet. This guy was solid testosterone and feathers. If I were a female turkey, I would have thrown my panties at him. Even out here on a completely different trunk of the evolutionary thicket, I felt a bit of a twinge. I’ve been on dates with guys who had less going on than that turkey.

Obviously this is “Major Tom.” (I guess that makes me Ground Control.)

I wasn’t able to get Kevin to a window fast enough to see him, but hopefully he’ll be back. Preferably not when the beagle is out. That bird would eat Gir for lunch and spit out the bones afterwards.

I feel a bit of a pang for Tom the Lesser, but…well…dayum.

Originally published at Squash's Garden. You can comment here or there.

Tags: