I leave out my turkey .
Kelsey stress to alleviate my guilt trip over their young residence ( the deep freezer ) by reminding me that if any of us had collapsed unconscious in their pasture , the sight likely would have beak our systema skeletale clean within minutes , caribe - style .
But I still miss them , peckishness , garden - raid , and all .
When we acquired our first Bourbon Reds this year , I did n’t expect to become hopelessly attached to these Bronx cheer . Like the broiler chickens we ’ve raise , they were fate for the dinner party board , so I live better than to name them or deal them like pets , of which we already had pot .
And I didn’t — name them , that is . But from the start our dud ’ personable , inquisitive nature made it unsufferable for me — an fauna - lover and former vegetarian zookeeper — to NOT deal them like pets . Or more like feathered children .
I know letting our fun little flock out of their pen each morning time . They would circumvent me pull in cute “ boop , boop ” sound , and go after along after me wherever I went . They were thrilled when I hand - fed them treats of lettuce and dandelion leaves ( the latter originate in their forage , but they get nuts when I picked the leaves for them ) .
After I leave , they trotted off to do turkey things : hunting bugs , sun - bathe , preen on their perches , patrol the fenceline . As he matured , the bigger of the Uncle Tom strutted and fanned his tail - feather for his hen harem , gobbling his ticker out whenever he heard the dogs bark or a railroad car pull up .
Throughout the day , I ’d glance out my office window to see our beautiful turkey , their cinnamon bark plume flaming against the green pasturage . They always looked happy , which is exactly what I wanted , and the chief reason we were raising our own Turkey to dine on this holiday season ( and beyond ) or else of purchase those poor factory - farmed birds .
But it was n’t easy say dark and goodbye , even if we did n’t have to “ process ” the turkeys ourselves , give thanks good . We ’re still contend whether to do this again next year .
Right now , I ca n’t serve thinking how much prosperous and cheaper it would be to just snap up an anonymous , on - sale , supermarket monster - turkey , if only I could alternate off my conscience .
But then I inquire , possibly our food should n’t come as well and stingily as that — especially when it was once a support , experience puppet .
And next yr , maybe , I could keep a pretty turkey pair as stock breeder so I would n’t have to say lamentable goodbyes to all of my feathered friends .
Or , I could always go back to being a vegetarian . What do you reckon ? ( and Happy Thanksgiving ! )
~Cherie
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