Sorry I haven’t written for a week! I went to NYC to check out the city slickers and eat good food. Of course, many things went down on the farm while I was gone. But I thought first I’d share the story of my departure day.
As I fed the animals at dawn the day of my flight (I had to be at the airport at 7:30am) I went out to the chicken house and discovered a very flat, very cold turkey poult. Those are the breaks on the farm. If you think about it, a baby animal, especially poultry, are fragile beings. I mean, they just hatched out of an egg. I contemplated feeding the little guy to the pigs…then I saw the turkey move its wing. Oh man. Putting my tardy flight anxieties aside, I picked up the turkey, nestled it on my chest and blew warm air on it. While I did my other farm chores, the turkey began to stir, and weakly opened its mouth. Dr. Doolittle would’ve given him about a 20/80 chance of pulling through. The poult’s feathers were matted, and the little guy, well, he smelled. After about 20 minutes of puttering and wondering if I should call a cab, I brought the rest of the turkey babies up to our house and set up a brooder light in a box with hay. I stuck sicky under the light and noticed he seemed a little better. Once I landed in New York and settled in my hotel, William called.
“So, is there a dead turkey in the box?” I asked, grimly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” William said. “All I see are a bunch of turkeys in our living room.”
He survived. And that, that, is a miracle.

One response to “Near-tragedy

  1. I had a similar experience with a young chicken. It feels like a miracle, doesn’t it?

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