by Pa Rock
Farmer in August
I have purchased turkey chicks three times in my life. All three times they were the traditional-looking "bronze-breasted" and the were "straight run," or purchased with the genders not being known. The first time was at the farm in Noel about twenty years ago. I bought four chicks. It turned out there were three hens and one Tom. The hens were all killed by predators when they were relatively young, but the Tom hung around for several years.
Last year I bought four more chicks of the same breed. It turned out again that there were three hens and a Tom. All of the hens were killed by predators during their first six months of life, but the Tom lived the longest. After his ladies were gone, however, he just sort of gave up and quit being careful - and then something got him, too.
This spring I stepped my game up a notch and bought five bronze-breasted turkey chicks. Two were killed when they were only a couple of months old, but three survived and are now enormous farm birds. I knew that two were Toms a few weeks ago when they squared off against one another and had a feathered kerfuffle in the back yard. But I had hopes that the third would be a hen. Yesterday morning as I was observing the turkeys and some chickens outside of the window, all three turkeys began doing their macho Tom dance.
Oh, well. It looks like I have a Moe, a Curly, and a Larry on my hands. Nyuk, nyuk! Seriously, I'm thinking about naming them Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year - just to keep them on their toes!
Farmer in August
I have purchased turkey chicks three times in my life. All three times they were the traditional-looking "bronze-breasted" and the were "straight run," or purchased with the genders not being known. The first time was at the farm in Noel about twenty years ago. I bought four chicks. It turned out there were three hens and one Tom. The hens were all killed by predators when they were relatively young, but the Tom hung around for several years.
Last year I bought four more chicks of the same breed. It turned out again that there were three hens and a Tom. All of the hens were killed by predators during their first six months of life, but the Tom lived the longest. After his ladies were gone, however, he just sort of gave up and quit being careful - and then something got him, too.
This spring I stepped my game up a notch and bought five bronze-breasted turkey chicks. Two were killed when they were only a couple of months old, but three survived and are now enormous farm birds. I knew that two were Toms a few weeks ago when they squared off against one another and had a feathered kerfuffle in the back yard. But I had hopes that the third would be a hen. Yesterday morning as I was observing the turkeys and some chickens outside of the window, all three turkeys began doing their macho Tom dance.
Oh, well. It looks like I have a Moe, a Curly, and a Larry on my hands. Nyuk, nyuk! Seriously, I'm thinking about naming them Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year - just to keep them on their toes!
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