When Turkeys Fight

Last week, around 7:50 a.m., I heard a racket on the other end of the house. At first I thought it was the washing machine, but I quickly realized it was not that. I went into the kitchen and heard a sound as if something was trying to climb through the stove venting into the house. I went to the door to look.

Two tom turkeys were deadlocked together, having a nasty fight, and caught in between my heat pump and the house. They'd stomped on the stove vent, ruined my water gauge, turned over and broke several flower pots, and were turning purple in the head as they tried to kill one another.

I screamed at them to "shoo" and "get away from my damn heat pump," mostly because I was afraid they were going to pull wiring loose. They finally moved away from the heat pump, but they continued to fight. I yelled some more and they paid me no attention.

The birds come up my chest and are huge. I had no intention of trying to separate them, so I did what people normally do nowadays.

I picked up my camera.

This was about as close as I dared get.

I shall eat you, you fowl bird.

Let's dance. Put on your red shoes!

Definitely not love.

Turkey waltz?

I am going to eat your face! Forsooth!

Let me have a taste of your upper beak.

Which turkey shall prevail?

Standoff.

There shall only be one Major Tom in this crowd!

A rally and a come back.

Give up, or I shall eat your face again!

Yes, we are taller than the heat pump.

Do I hear someone screaming, "No, stay away from the heat pump!" while I eat your face?



If I can't beat you one way, I shall body slam you into this garage door.



As if! I am going to eat your face again!

Maybe we should make tracks?

The devastation from the fight.

 

Thus endeth the rain gauge. The gnome survived.

The flower pot looked a bit worse for wear.

Most of it was salvageable.

Turkey feathers everywhere.