Dead Meat
Everyone knows how I feel about wildlife: not good. I don't like wildlife when it's in the wild, so you can imagine how I feel when I see wildlife around my home: even worse.
Turkeys have been turning up all over Boston recently, especially nearby where I live. Some people love these wild turkeys. They think it's just great that animals are starting to cohabitate with humans. They love that when the turkeys cross the street, traffic stops and waits. They love that the turkeys show their feathers. They love that the turkeys just waddle around, going about their business, while humans do the same.
I am not one of these people.
I don't like the turkeys. I don't like having to dodge them when I'm walking down the street. I don't like having to wait in traffic while they cross at the crosswalk. I get freaked out when they start running a little bit with their feathers all out because I have no clue where this crazy bird is going. I don't like that they block doorways and stairways. I don't like that they stare you down.
This is my new reality. This morning, at 6 AM, when I'm having enough trouble interacting with the person ringing up my coffee, I went to get into the shop and a turkey was blocking the door. I spent a minute or two trying to get the damn bird out of the way, but I couldn't figure anything out besides snapping my fingers at him. So I did that, and the bird sort of lunged in my direction and so I squeezed into the shop, shutting the door behind me. I got my coffee and went to leave, and of course, there was that dumb bird standing right in the doorway. Now, I don't have forever in the morning. And by forever I mean, I have absolutely no time to waste waiting for a birdbrained animal to move out of my way. So I pushed open the door and the bird sort of scampered away and then proceeded to glare at me and follow me as I walked down the street.
You might think I have no clue what I'm talking about, but trust me: that bird was glaring and following me. It's 6 AM, nobody's out, so it's just me and this turkey walking down the street. I'm sure if someone painted it, it would be a charming picture. Me going to work; turkey going nowhere, both of us just ambling along. But in reality, this was not pleasant. I kept thinking about my brother, actually, because he is afraid of birds. I kept imagining how much he'd freak out if a turkey was following three steps behind him. He'd probably flip out. I started laughing thinking about all of this and when I laughed, I think I freaked out the bird, because he started opening up his feathers and walking faster towards me, which made me sort of freak out. And then I felt bad about laughing about my brother because here I was, freaking out and contemplating seeking refuge in the 7-11 with the sketchy cashier who always wants to talk about the globalization of the economy (at 6 AM). I was actually considering that I'd rather be beaten down by these turkey feathers than have to hear abou the Portuguese economny when the turkey stopped in its tracks and turned around, apparently tired of me. So I continued to work, and the turkey probably continued wherever he had to go.
So no, there was no big stand-off, and no, the turkey didn't attack me or really hinder my morning too much, and so I guess I can't call animal control (though I don't get WHY NOT) and I just have to accept that we can all share this wonderful place called earth.
Well you know what? I don't want to share at all, but I don't really know any other solution. I started thinking about what I could do about this: animal control said they've gotten enough calls, so what they advise is that if you see a turkey, you just continue about your business and try not to excite the bird by waving your arms around. Wow, animal control, thanks for the help. Really insightful. I started considering whether they could come out and round up the turkeys and deposit them in some land area, but then I realized that there are just too damn many and besides, how would they trap them? Would they just keep coming out every time we found a turkey? Probably not. Now I remembered that it's almost winter, and I thought about whether the turkeys would freeze. Not to sound like Holen Caulfield, but where would the turkeys go in the winter? Would they migrate? Would this be the end of them?
I have no idea. I kept thinking about how to get rid of these turkeys, but I just kept coming up with more questions. The ultimate questions really scared me: Would I have to get used to this? What if turkeys become like pigeons? (Which, by the way, are getting more aggressive every day.) I freaking hope not, because I'm not going to be able to survive.
Turkeys have been turning up all over Boston recently, especially nearby where I live. Some people love these wild turkeys. They think it's just great that animals are starting to cohabitate with humans. They love that when the turkeys cross the street, traffic stops and waits. They love that the turkeys show their feathers. They love that the turkeys just waddle around, going about their business, while humans do the same.
I am not one of these people.
I don't like the turkeys. I don't like having to dodge them when I'm walking down the street. I don't like having to wait in traffic while they cross at the crosswalk. I get freaked out when they start running a little bit with their feathers all out because I have no clue where this crazy bird is going. I don't like that they block doorways and stairways. I don't like that they stare you down.
This is my new reality. This morning, at 6 AM, when I'm having enough trouble interacting with the person ringing up my coffee, I went to get into the shop and a turkey was blocking the door. I spent a minute or two trying to get the damn bird out of the way, but I couldn't figure anything out besides snapping my fingers at him. So I did that, and the bird sort of lunged in my direction and so I squeezed into the shop, shutting the door behind me. I got my coffee and went to leave, and of course, there was that dumb bird standing right in the doorway. Now, I don't have forever in the morning. And by forever I mean, I have absolutely no time to waste waiting for a birdbrained animal to move out of my way. So I pushed open the door and the bird sort of scampered away and then proceeded to glare at me and follow me as I walked down the street.
You might think I have no clue what I'm talking about, but trust me: that bird was glaring and following me. It's 6 AM, nobody's out, so it's just me and this turkey walking down the street. I'm sure if someone painted it, it would be a charming picture. Me going to work; turkey going nowhere, both of us just ambling along. But in reality, this was not pleasant. I kept thinking about my brother, actually, because he is afraid of birds. I kept imagining how much he'd freak out if a turkey was following three steps behind him. He'd probably flip out. I started laughing thinking about all of this and when I laughed, I think I freaked out the bird, because he started opening up his feathers and walking faster towards me, which made me sort of freak out. And then I felt bad about laughing about my brother because here I was, freaking out and contemplating seeking refuge in the 7-11 with the sketchy cashier who always wants to talk about the globalization of the economy (at 6 AM). I was actually considering that I'd rather be beaten down by these turkey feathers than have to hear abou the Portuguese economny when the turkey stopped in its tracks and turned around, apparently tired of me. So I continued to work, and the turkey probably continued wherever he had to go.
So no, there was no big stand-off, and no, the turkey didn't attack me or really hinder my morning too much, and so I guess I can't call animal control (though I don't get WHY NOT) and I just have to accept that we can all share this wonderful place called earth.
Well you know what? I don't want to share at all, but I don't really know any other solution. I started thinking about what I could do about this: animal control said they've gotten enough calls, so what they advise is that if you see a turkey, you just continue about your business and try not to excite the bird by waving your arms around. Wow, animal control, thanks for the help. Really insightful. I started considering whether they could come out and round up the turkeys and deposit them in some land area, but then I realized that there are just too damn many and besides, how would they trap them? Would they just keep coming out every time we found a turkey? Probably not. Now I remembered that it's almost winter, and I thought about whether the turkeys would freeze. Not to sound like Holen Caulfield, but where would the turkeys go in the winter? Would they migrate? Would this be the end of them?
I have no idea. I kept thinking about how to get rid of these turkeys, but I just kept coming up with more questions. The ultimate questions really scared me: Would I have to get used to this? What if turkeys become like pigeons? (Which, by the way, are getting more aggressive every day.) I freaking hope not, because I'm not going to be able to survive.
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