Is it fate or simply coincidence that plops the unthinkable into my lap on Tuesdays, the same day I write my blog?
Sitting at the computer trying to sum up the highlights of the past week, Tuesday inevitably becomes the story. Today was no exception.
My friend texted, ‘Got baby turkeys. Need new home. Interested?’
Hello? YES! Who wouldn’t be interested in baby turkeys??
Then Reason found me and she has one hell of a memory. Remember, she mocked, no new animals without being prepared. You don’t have a coop, a feeder, decent netting. And you don’t know a thing about turkeys.
Reason can be a real drag sometimes.
‘Have to pass’ I texted back. ‘No coop, no time to build’
‘Live outside, roost in trees. No coop needed.’
By noon Cathy was in the driveway with two dog crates. Nine gray Slate turkeys, ugly and wonderfully skittish huddled inside the carriers.
‘Two of them are a little beat up,’ she said passing over the squawk boxes. ‘The big birds won’t accept them.’ She turned to get back in the truck.
I’m always in awe of Cathy’s calm self-assuredness. She is seemingly unflappable and next to her I feel as skittishly unprepared for what comes next as the baby turkeys.
‘What about feed?’ My mind racing through all the questions I needed to get out before she pulled away. ‘Same as your chickens,’ she dropped the truck into drive.
‘They’re just birds,’ she added easing out of the driveway.
‘Thank you,’ I hollered. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ Just birds, she is right. I’ve got this.