Across the wire fence in my neighbor’s yard, a mama turkey hatched 13 babies.
I don’t know what baby turkeys are called, but “giblets” comes to mind.
Two days into their new lives, all 13 giblets found a hole in the fence and made their way into my yard. Not being able to squeeze through the same hole, Mama became distraught.
We came upon the tragic scene: Mama gobbling at her giblets and the giblets peeping back at her. My wife and I tried to help by yelling, “Mama, you have wings. Fly over the fence!” Our message was lost on her.
We decided to herd the giblets back to the hole from whence they came. Ever tried to herd giblets? They don’t herd well. Off they went in 13 different directions. It was heartrending to hear their distress peeps.
Of course, they did not know that we are tree huggers. Mama thrashed her wings violently in threat charges at us. After crashing into the fence, Mama would stagger back upright and resume the squawking.
In a short time, all the giblets were returned to Mama. I haven’t seen Mama and her giblets in quite a while, and fear the fox that sometimes dwells in my neighbor’s yard has had his way with them
I am writing this letter to plead the case that Rocklin’s turkeys are in great need of flying lessons in order to get over fences and into the safety of trees.
All right-thinking citizens of Rocklin should help by setting an example of the proper flying technique. If you see a turkey, tuck your hands into your armpits and flap your elbows vigorously. Help save our indigenous turkeys – at least until Thanksgiving.
Dennis Golemis, Rocklin