My farmer great-aunt got two Toms when I was about 11.
Her only turkeys, once they matured they were mean bastards, trying to
intimidate everything. I wasn't very big, they were darn near as tall as me,
and just lived to chase me around. We spent a lot of time there helping her,
and I always got volunteered to gather eggs, feed hogs...and they were always waiting.
One day Dad and I were cutting wood near the house and stopped to get a drink and
to move some brush. And here they came! All puffed up,, strutting and drumming.
I started to back away, Dad said "Don't move!"
Pick up a stick and smack them, if they know you can beat their ass, they will
let you alone. I hadn't tried that before, figured my Aunt would beat my ass if I hit them.
I grabbed a locust snag about 3" in diameter and 4' long and swung at a head.
He went straight down, quivering and kicking.
Dad, said "Holy hell, you killed it. I didn't mean for you to hit it like that. Isabell is
gonna be pissed! The, seeing his buddy/competition down for the count, the other
One came over and started kicking the crap out of him. Spurring and pecking at it.
After a minute, the one I hit started to get up, staggering and falling back down.
His buddy grabbed his beak, and they wrapped their necks around each other like
two snakes, pushing and fighting.
I never had an issue with them again, don't know if they were afraid of me,
or I just wasn't afraid of them anymore.
About 20 years later, I was hunting spring turkeys there. Noon came and I had
a sandwich with my Aunt and was leaving. She still had turkeys, but different ones.
I got in my truck hooked low gear and rolled through the breaker in her circular driveway,
headed diwn the hill, and heard her yelling.
I grabbed reverse and started back to her. She started yelling louder.
I stopped, got out, and there layed her gobbler.
I had 33's on that truck, and he evidently saw them move and decided to attack one.
Thank God, she saw the whole thing. It came runni g from the side and tried to spur
the tire from the front!
She picked it up, tears in her eyes, and said "Take it home, your mom might be able to use it".
The heart was literally laying there on the ground, just the heart in a red puddle.
Of course mom gave me all kind of hell when we skinned it out.
Surprisingly it wasn't too messed up.
30 years later the cobbler I got with the Dodge will comes up.
Good story, well told. (I bet that the elves were confused that night after he didn't show up at the shoe shop.)
