Tala vs The Turkey: The War of Summer 2010
This is The Turkey (and also the two Jakes that follow him everywhere and egg him on).
The Turkey hates me. No, really. The moment I step foot outside on the farm, I have to be on guard- if he sees me, he’ll come running, even if I’m half a farm away, and when he gets to me he’ll try his best to bite, hit and/or spur me, in hopes of making me run.
I never run. It is thus that wars begin.
I regularly beat him with various objects hanging around the house, like the practice sword I’m holding above. Such attacks make him squawk and sputter, but rarely drive him off. In fact, I can run full-tilt at him, waving a sword and screaming like a banshee, and all he’ll do is brace himself for the onslaught. He does not run either.
Any lesser man (or wiser) would run.
It is thus that wars continue.
His favorite time to attack me is while I’m getting into (or out of) my car, and am thus vulnerable. After all, it’s hard to swing a long sword when halfway in a small vehicle. Perhaps I should invest in a truck, for my protection.
Or a tank.
I was sorely tempted to slam the door on his little dinosaur head.
He scored his first real hit of the war on Saturday morning. I took the picture this morning (Monday), so it’s had a few days to heal and the “open wound” aspect of it isn’t that terrifying anymore. The bruises are still impressive, though.
He is a rather large and heavy bird, after all. He leaves bruises.
This is how I responded. Screw the sword; we’re going mano-a-mano now.
Run away, you bastards!
Not that my victory lasted. I can hear him outside right now, gobbling his challenge, searching for me.
Luckily, I have backup.