I've mentioned a bit about the wacky things that happen with the free-range small animal farm that has seemingly formed in my backyard here at 145 Crazy Road.
I was going to write about some of the antics that have occurred in the past few days here, with Kiki And Ty and their imaginary friends, Stacy and Joe, or Nick's new found "attitude," or the ridiculous occurrence at Rite-Aid last night.
But, in light of the FANTASTIC APRIL SNOW STORM, I decided to recall for you a day last summer. A day that will live on in infamy in the memories of me, my pool net, my kids, my dog, and probably in the minds of the turkey family that has become a mainstay here at the range.
It was one of those summer days that you wake up to glorious sun, warm air, nothing much to do, and the hope of a relaxing day. (knowing all the while that its really not realistic).
"As I stepped out...into the bright sunlight..." Just kidding...
The kids were all up, the pool was momentarily free of pollen, bugs, frogs, moles...you know...nice and clear.
From the kitchen Kiki and Nick were watching the adorable(well, I use that description lightly, turkeys are, after all, U.G.L.Y.)family of turkeys crossing our back lawn. There was a BIG MAMA, a BIGGER DADDY, and about 12 baby turkeys, that each morning made their way, in a line, across the yard.
Enter Tyler and Casey...
"Mama. I'm gonna let Casey out."
"NO! TYLER! Wait!!!!
Too late. Ty opened the back door and Casey shot out at lightening speed, bounding straight for the panicked flock!
Turkeys can fly. Did you know that?
Turkeys and feathers and dog hair were suddenly flying spastically through the air, the dog was barking madly, really just wanting to play, as turkeys disappeared into the trees.
Except for one.
The littlest turkey barely cleared the pool fence and went dive-bombing right.into.the.pool.
Turkeys can't swim. Did you know that?
Now all of the kids gathered at the window screaming~
My rescuing instincts kicked in, and I sprinted out to the pool.
He was flailing about, terrified, making this noise that I could never even begin to describe. He was going down.
"Not on my watch."
I grabbed my net, adjusted the pole(in record time. I hate that thing, I always get my fingers stuck) and set about my mission.
As this was occurring, the family of turkeys started to gather, one by one, and lined up at the pool fence, watching me. clucking. screeching. All 13 of them.
No pressure there!
Dog still barking, kids still yelling, turkey family still clucking, baby turkey splashing, I had no choice but to go in after the bugger.
Still in my p.j.s, I waded in, talking to it, hoping that it understood I was there to help him out.
He was not co-operating, so I pushed the net as far as I could, swam in, and GOT HIM!
I tried to keep him and the net and myself above water, not too easy. I think I was crying, too!
Wet baby turkeys are really heavy, did you know that?
I mustered my strength and lifted that baby clucker right to the edge, where he sputtered a bit, and like it never happened jumped the fence to safety, to his family that was waiting desperately for him.
I didn't even get out of the pool as I watched the grateful flockers waddle off, in their line, across the lawn and into the woods that they came from. I was in shock from the drama.
I got out of the pool to cheering kids, an exhausted and confused dog, and a cold cup of coffee.
My nerves were shot.
Goodbye relaxing day.
Goodbye clean pool.(now a fine layer of turkey dust covered the once pristine water).
Goodbye hot coffee.
Hello, typical craziness.
Again, though, in the face of this lunacy, I did learn a few things:
That families, even yucky-looking turkey families, stick together in the face of disaster. That pool water is sub-zero before 8am. That my "Mommy Instincts" will kick in, no matter what. And that my Thanksgiving dinners would, from now on, consist of TOFURKEY.
The family(I mean, I GUESS its the same one) continued to come back every day. And every day those once teeny, cute, baby turkeys grew into monstrous, vulture looking creatures. I am pretty sure the one I saved was the one that had no problem coming right up to the window to eat the fallen birdseed, while the kids watched in scared delight. I think he knew that he was safe at 145 Crazy Road.
Just another day in the life here...
Thanks for reading.