In honor of American Thanksgiving, I give you the turkey trapping story from this past July. Everything here is TRUE, if you can believe that. And if you someday decide to kill your own bird for turkey day, I do not recommend this approach.
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The
grandparents have turkeys that live around their house. Several
times a week, the turkeys will traipse through the yard on their way
to, well, who knows, turkey errands probably. What turkey doesn't
have to return their library books, pick up some scratch at the store
and hit the ATM on the way home?
So Sandis sees the turkeys and decides
she's in love. Not normal love where you see an animal and find it
interesting, draw 728 pictures of it and check out every book in the
library system that is remotely related to that animal. No, this is
real love. The kind of love where you decide you can no
longer eat this animal. Well, except on Thanksgiving when you will
pay homage to it by eating it. Don't ask me, I don't make these
things up, I just report the facts. Also the kind of love where you
feel you must catch one of them to take home.
Sandis comes in from outside with a
broken piece of window moulding. “Can I use this?” she
innocently asks. Having lived with this child for more than a week,
I ask, “Why?” with a raised eyebrow. “For my turkey trap!”
she gleefully replies. You know that I am a most excellent parent
because I did not begin laughing uncontrollably. That is good
parenting right there. You know what else is good parenting, sending
her to ask her grandparents because, well, they need a laugh as well.
The grandparents agreed she could use it as well as a cardboard box
provided she returned them when she was done.
The trap was set and baited with a
lovely turkey platter. Yes, turkey platter has been redefined. It
now means “paper plate with food I imagine a turkey might eat.”
Her imagination included apple slices, quartered and pitted cherries,
cereal, and two powdered doughnut holes. You would think that a
squirrel, ground hog, or other small creature might help themselves
to the tasty turkey platter crudites
but you would be wrong. Why? Well,
because Sandis put out a sign stating, “For Mr. Turky.” This way
all semi-literate creatures out carousing who happened to stumble
upon the lovely spread would know that this was only for the turkey.
Or turky. The plan was that the trap would be left overnight. In
the morning, there would be a turkey under the box which Sandis would
then pick up and take home with her. This was an extremely
well-thought out and detailed plan so I'm sure you can see no holes
in it.
In the morning, Sandis was crushed to
discover the box tipped over and most of the food gone. Everything
but the doughnut holes, apparently they are fit for neither man nor
beast. She was full of new plans. Weighing the box down by tying
rocks to it. Sleeping beside the trap so the turkey couldn't escape.
Taking a walk and lassoing all the turkeys she saw. Then, when she
caught one, it was going to sit on her lap and she would feed it
jelly beans. Perfect!
Sadly, we had to leave grandma &
grandpa's that day so there was no chance for a second round of
trapping. We did take a walk but the loop fell off of her lasso.
Yeah, I don't know how that could happen either. We didn't see any
turkeys anyway, which was probably good as 1) I don't know that
turkey lassoing/trapping is legal and 2) catching a turkey barehanded
will probably land you in the emergency room from turkey wounds. The
walk was fruitful though because we managed to find a turkey feather.
It won't eat jelly beans but then again, it also won't try and peck
your eyes out so I'm calling it a win.
This is your friendly reminder to vote. All you do is click, which takes you to the website where you then do nothing. Or you can do something, but you don't have to do something. It's easy. Thanks :)
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