Several years ago my vet asked me if I would be interested in adopting Lincoln, a broad breasted bronze heritage turkey. He is a pet and I must agree not to eat him. So I met Lincoln and he and I got off to a brilliant start. He was absolutely the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Later that day we brought him home and he settled right in with our chickens. He was so sweet and friendly and would follow me everywhere. He loved cat food so I would give him little cat food treats every once in a while and he really liked that. He ate right out of my hand.
He didn't like sleeping in the coop with the hens so he would fly up and roost on the roof of the chicken coop. One very cold evening with an ice storm coming my then partner got the ladder out, so she could put him in the coop where he would be warm and safe. She reached up got a hold of him and started to lift him down. They both hit the ground with a loud thump. Lincoln weighed an unexpected 40 pounds! not like our two -three pound hens. That Turkey was huge!
During the summer we had a big birthday party, Buffalo-Fitz was the musical entertainment and put on a great show. Lincoln was roosted on top of the coop and at the right moment would let out a loud gobble or two just like he was part of the band. It was hilarious! But not all was right with our relationship with Lincoln. He had started attacking the ex. At first I thought it was really funny. But then he started attacking kids and dogs and then me. I was hurt. I took this very personally. Yes I could understand him attacking everyone else they didn't love him like I did. But me why would he bite the hand that feeds him?
A little history;
I did remember doc telling me the dogs stayed clear of him and I thought at the time this to be good and also Lincoln once had a kid down flat on the ground and was stomping him. 40 pound turkey stomping a 3 year old sounded hilarious. No so much for the parents watching or the person who has to tend to the wounds on the small now hysterically screaming crying child. That kid will look at thanksgiving dinner in a whole new light. And then there were the cars he began attacking and that's what led to the need for a foster home. A vet clinic is busy and one of those cars will surly bite back.
When Lincoln began attacking me I tried to work with him to no avail. He was clearly unhappy with us. I really wanted to put him in the pot but I made a promise. So I called Doc and we found him a new home. I have never looked at thanksgiving the same way either.