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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2agpvLo:
original post on instagram here
That screen door is right next to the evisceration room. We were hearing a repetitive peeping sound, and finally we realized there was a baby turkey standing right in the doorway. One of the farmhands said it couldn’t possibly be one of the tame ones, but I said aren’t the wild ones really shy though? and someone else said aren’t the wild ones mostly bigger by now? and we debated it, and we eventually decided that surely it had to be a lost baby wild turkey. Perhaps it was ill, or injured, or, we weren’t really sure, but it was standing in the doorway peeping forlornly at us. Aaron confessed he had been clicking at the baby wild turkeys– the weird slow click call is what the mother turkeys use to call their babies, and sometimes you can fool them.
If we were doing anything but chicken processing we would have stopped immediately to look at it, and go look at the turkeys in their pen and compare it, but when the chicken train’s a-rolling, you really can’t mess around. (My sister did go and offer it a piece of coffee cake, as it seemed to be rather cold and miserable in the rain. It was up in the doorway to get out of the rain and because it was so much warmer in the barn– there was a big burner going under the scalding tank, so it was quite hot in the barn at that point. But the turkey declined the coffee cake, and also didn’t run away.)
But after a little while, my brother-in-law came to look (he was on the other side of the building, and he instantly said, “That’s one of ours,” and picked it up and went and put it back into the pen.
Sure enough, there’s a hole in the screen, so there’s my task for tomorrow.
original post on instagram here
That screen door is right next to the evisceration room. We were hearing a repetitive peeping sound, and finally we realized there was a baby turkey standing right in the doorway. One of the farmhands said it couldn’t possibly be one of the tame ones, but I said aren’t the wild ones really shy though? and someone else said aren’t the wild ones mostly bigger by now? and we debated it, and we eventually decided that surely it had to be a lost baby wild turkey. Perhaps it was ill, or injured, or, we weren’t really sure, but it was standing in the doorway peeping forlornly at us. Aaron confessed he had been clicking at the baby wild turkeys– the weird slow click call is what the mother turkeys use to call their babies, and sometimes you can fool them.
If we were doing anything but chicken processing we would have stopped immediately to look at it, and go look at the turkeys in their pen and compare it, but when the chicken train’s a-rolling, you really can’t mess around. (My sister did go and offer it a piece of coffee cake, as it seemed to be rather cold and miserable in the rain. It was up in the doorway to get out of the rain and because it was so much warmer in the barn– there was a big burner going under the scalding tank, so it was quite hot in the barn at that point. But the turkey declined the coffee cake, and also didn’t run away.)
But after a little while, my brother-in-law came to look (he was on the other side of the building, and he instantly said, “That’s one of ours,” and picked it up and went and put it back into the pen.
Sure enough, there’s a hole in the screen, so there’s my task for tomorrow.
