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Turkey.....something I will never ever ever
in a million years, eat or hunt or even look at ever again. I
don't care for turkey too much. Now for you more sensitive
viewers, I have provided some pictures of my wonderful family for your
viewing pleasure. The most beautiful members; Dalyn and Tori are
missing but not forgotten. I will tell my story and then if once
you get to the confused looking duck sitting on the edge of a water tub
in the middle of a snow storm, and you wish to continue to the atrocity
I call "The Thanksgiving Turkey Masacare" be my guests.
It
all started with a couple little turkey chicks we bought last
year. They both jumped in the drink and drowned.. That should
have been my first clue. Skip to about 7 months ago for round
two. These lived past the tough lessons of learning to drink
water w/o sinking. And behold; we have a male and female,
cool. We'll the female was apparently clucking at the Jake too
much because the Jake made a deal with the coyotes and took out a
hit on her a few weeks back. So now he's sitting in protective
custody in a pen just in case the coyotes double cross him. He's
looking pretty happy and peacful, just kickin back in solitary.
This guy is not too bright....the trusting kind.... cause he will let
you come right up to him and pick him up and everything.
Completely trusting you. Well, I work Thanksgiving day, so
we're doing Thanksgiving a day early. Dalyn and all her "back to
nature" (which has a lot of merit by the way) stuff has us eating our
own turkey for thanksgiving...you know, cause we're
"Homesteaders." What a vision....raise, butcher and eat our very
own turkey....no big deal. Whatever!!!
T-day
arrives and I'm off to butcher the turkey. "hey, it'll only take
30 minutes tops!!" I assure my wife. "Everyone I talk too says
it's easy and quick, anyone could do it. Not even you, Weller,
could mes it up." My wife, who doesn't exactly look up to me in
the first place concerning my optimistic assesment on these type of
things, eyes me with cautious skepticism she likes to refer to as
"realism." (I hate it when she's right). Well, I go to
retrieve the turkey from his cell. Walk right up to him and he
looks at me with those big trusting, albeit beady, little fowl
eyes. Pick him up....he's heavy!!! But he's still not
concerned...he trust us all. I carry him to the garage where
there is a tarp laid out, a bowl, various knives and some rope.
Concern brewing on the part of the turkey you ask?? Why not at
all. he trust us. So I grab him by the legs and tie him
upside down from the rafters. Does he get upset?? Naw, why
should he? You can almost hear him saying to himself;
"self, why are we hanging upside down from the rafters? Don't
know, but the bi-ped has always treated us good, feeds us, pets us,
didn't get too mad when we had the hen turkey taken out. Don't
worry about it. Oh boy, this looks fun." Poor guy, never
saw it coming. Not even when I grabbed him by the neck and tried
to cut his throat. Although I think his trust started to
fade at this point, because he struggled just enough to break the rope
after getting a non-fatal jab in the throat. He wasn't too concerned
though, because he let me tie him right back up without a fight.
Well, meanwhile, the boys thought this would be the coolest thing in
the world to watch....especially little Ben....he couldn't wait.
Well this time I get the juggler and blood is SPURTING
everywhere. The turkey, at this point, has lost ALL confidence in
me. His worst fears being confirmed. The thing is
struggling so much, sure that he's being punished for the whole
hen/coyote thing, that he again breaks the rope and falls into a huge
puddle of his own blood, convulsing and writhing, looking at me with a
look that pleads."but why.....aghhh." I'm struggling to get the
turkey picked up and hung again, calling over my shoulder to the boys
for assistance. None comes, so I look back and both boys are in
shock, standing there horrified with a look of pure terror in thier
eyes, trying desparately to tear themselves away from this train
wreck. Finally they get turned away and I see them cruntching
thier eyes shut so hard and plugging their ears, I think at any moment
they might start clicking thier heels screaming "there's no place like
home, there's no place like home!!"  Well,
this ends up just being the beggining of the nightmare. Plucking,
burning with a torch, more plucking and finally gutting. Oh
sure...it's easy, no problem. It was a four hour slaughter.
Ben holding up some stupid book from the library showing "the easy
steps to turkey butchering"...Somebody made a fortune off that book and
they are probably still rolling on the floor thinking about the poor
sucker that actually followed those "easy" steps. Puntured it's
gullet, but I held it together. Punctured it's bowells and that
was the straw right there!! Too much. I'm gagging, trying
desparately not to puke on the carcass, Dalyn has come out by now and
is in tears laughing at me so hard, muttering something about the
resemblance to a little naked person. I'm done with
turkey!!! I had internal organs stuck under my nails and still
have the smell of that punctured bowell in my head. Everything I
eat or drink smells like that now. Am I weak, or soft?....must
be, and I don't care...I will NEVER do that again. Give me a deer
any day. I have never felt so stupid at the hands of a bird in my
life and believe me, I have felt pretty stupid at times throughout my
life.
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