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She is overweight with wrinkled skin, beady eyes and big
feet. She talks too loud and is prone to fits of pouting.
She gobbles her food with gusto and makes quite a mess. But
as the saying goes, she has a brilliant personality and we
love her. Her name is Puff.
We brought her home when she was only a few days old. My
friends told me, "Pam, you don't want a turkey on your
farm. Gobblers are mean and nothing but trouble." Puff has
proven to be very gentle, though, and a great companion when
I'd outside doing my yard work. She just wants to be close
to people and enjoys spending quality time with her family.
Our poultry flock is a free-roaming group, not confined to
their small pen around the chicken coop but allowed to
wander where they will. This makes egg gathering a bit like
a yearlong Easter egg hunt. Puff's eggs are easy to
distinguish from the laying hens. They are larger and
speckled, and a special bonus, they are double-yolked.
Free-roaming also means when Puff comes close to the house,
peeking in doors looking for us, she occasionally leaves
turkey-sized deposits where we're most apt to step. We've
become accustomed to walking through the yard with our heads
down, picking our way by the neatest paths we can find. I
believe it's a small price to pay for the companionship of
an animal that is so happy to see us when we walk out the
door.
One day while sitting by the open window in our living room,
I heard a funny noise outside. It sounded like gurgling and
pipping. I pulled back the curtains and peered out, then
started to laugh.
Puff had wandered past our new pickup and caught a glimpse
of herself in the shiny chrome bumper. What was this? A
new bird on the place? She made chortling sounds as she
edged nearer, looking first from one small eye, then turning
her head and looking at it from another view. She was
clearly perplexed at her own image. Soon she had a pretty
display of bronze feathers puffed out as she strolled back
and forth, making soft sounds in her throat.
"I think Puff's in love," I told my husband. "She hasn't
left that bumper all afternoon." It was only when the sun
began to set and darkness fell that she abandoned her
preening and followed the rest of the chickens to the
roost. The next morning, she was back at her post.
I think it may have upset her when I drove the pickup to
work, taking her new-found friend along with me. She gave a
sad, longing look as I left, stretching her head high in the
air and watching the pickup until it was out of sight.
Without a spoken word, Puff had made her wishes known. It
didn't take long for me to call the hatchery and check the
price of baby turkeys.
This spring should find our farm flourishing with a new
flock of bronze beauties. I can hardly wait for the
hatching date to come. I know I'll be happy to have a yard
full of gobblers, and I'm sure Puff will be, too!
(c) 2004 by Pamela Jenkins
bunnies-n-birds @ juno.com
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Pamela Jenkins lives on a farm in
Oklahoma with her husband of twenty-three
years and their four children. She is the office manager of
a veterinary clinic and enjoys writing in her spare time.
She is a co-author of Chocolate for a Woman's Dreams and
Chicken Soup for the Grandparent's Soul, as well as writing
for Country Magazine. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May your day be blessed
Bob Johnston |
