A blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara
Our turkeys are growing quite nicely. We have a tom and a hen. The tom is a wanderer who can escape the turkey pen.
One night I went out to close up the chickens and the tom was not in the pen.
Unfortunately, he is not quite big enough.
The next night he was missing again. He was not nested in death row.
I looked up in all the trees thinking of the song “Five fat turkeys are we. We slept all night in a tree.” No turkey.
The turkey thought he was a chicken.
The next night he was not in the nest boxes, or in death row. Instead, he was on the perch in the coop.
Now my morning list of chores includes: Move turkey back to the turkey pen.