Turkey Trapping


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.


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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