(no subject)
So, I got attacked by a turkey. Twice.
I think I've mentioned before that my apartment complex borders some woods. These woods continue a ways down the hill leading from my complex to the main road. Because of this, it isn't unheard of to see woods-dwelling critters on the way down the hill. In particular, there is a wild turkey that has claimed itself some territory in a residential yard on the hill.
This turkey displays little, if any, fear of people or cars. He has been known to hang out right directly on the side of the road or even in the road. He'll fluff himself up on occasion but he mostly just chills, as I guess he's learned by now that drivers generally want to avoid hitting him. A time or two when I've gone by on foot, I've had to walk out into the road myself to go around him because he had no interest in letting me by.
Despite this behavior, I've always liked this turkey. I respect his attitude towards life and he's just a charming sight to see. He's out and about nearly every time I go to work and getting to see him always makes me feel better about having to get up and go to work. I've always especially liked seeing him when I'm on foot, as there's just something nice about nodding hello at a turkey as I pass.
And let me be clear, I've walked past this turkey at least a hundred times by now. Never had a problem.
Until today.
Today, I headed out to the little tea cafe I like, as was usual for a Saturday before I had to isolate at home and as I would like to be usual again. My officemate and I have tried to make plans to go a few times but she ended up not being available. It turned out that my sister would've been available but I... didn't ask, for some reason? I think I assumed she'd be doing something, Ihdk. She is due in anther couple weeks. I didn't have anyone else to try on short notice, so I bagged up a crochet project to work on and headed out by myself, on foot. It was a beautiful day for a walk anyhow and I was, as always, looking forward to seeing the turkey. And I did see the turkey!
Said turkey was chilling in his usual yard, a ways back from the street. I saw him, he saw me, I smiled and nodded and then put my eyes back forward and kept on about my business. The usual ritual. This time, though. This time, I heard a sort of rustle, like something with modern day dino feet creeping through grass and dead leaves. I glanced back and saw that the turkey was approaching me. Weird, right, but he's not always entirely stand-offish. And I could be wrong. He could just be heading for the road, in my general direction. Whatever. Eyes back front, keeping about my business.
Except then I wasn't hearing the rustle of dino feet in the grass. I was hearing the click click click click of dino claws on pavement. Um?? I glanced back again and, sure enough, the turkey was still approaching. But, hey, he wouldn't want to go too far beyond his usual yard, right? I kept walking.
click click click click
Kept walking.
click click (gobblegobble) click click
Now, I have since learned that when attacked by a wild turkey, the way to respond is to stand your ground, make a lot of noise and wave your arms, swing a jacket, etc, in order to scare it off. At the time, I was operating under the assumption that to deal with a territorial turkey was to simply leave its territory, asap. So, I walked a little faster.
clickclickclickclick(gobblegobblegobble)clickclickclickclick
Dude, wtf??
I didn't want to keep looking back at it but I did want to know where it was. I grabbed my phone and almost turned on my camera. Instead, I video called my sister. I wanted someone to experience this bewildering turn of events with me, I guess. She answered and I blurted out, "The turkey is chasing me!"
"... What?"
I held the phone up and tried to point it over my shoulder. I couldn't aim it very well but I knew when she'd seen the turkey because she said, "uh???" She then, still taken aback, informed me that it was right there behind me. A car came along at about that time and I sped up again just to make it clear to this passing stranger that the turkey and I were not sharing a companionable stroll. The driver honked at the turkey and that prompted me to turn and look again, which I did just in time to see the turkey regain its composure and continue to chase me. That car slowed and another approached and both honked, By that time, though, I wasn't paying attention to them-- I was focused on the dog in the yard just ahead.
This is a dog I've been walking past for years longer than I've been walking past the turkey and he still barks at me every single time. And this time, I was counting on it. He saw me and started up his racket and I speed-walked by him. I looked back again once I passed and, sure enough, the turkey had turned back. He was still looking at me but he wasn't willing to get any closer to the dog. I caught my breath, wallowed with my sister in our shared confusion and went on with what I was doing.
Not that tea and a scone put the issue entirely out of my mind. I still needed to go home, of course, and I was well aware that there was no barking dog on the other side to dissuade the turkey from following me the other way. I wasn't as concerned as I apparently should've been, though, simply because I had gone by so many times before without incident. So, sure, there'd been a fluke this one time. But a fluke is a fluke. If the turkey didn't want me walking so close to his yard this one time, for whatever reason, I would just walk on the other side of the road instead. Besides, he doesn't spend his entire day in the yard. Maybe he wouldn't even be there.
Guess what? He was there.
I was on the phone with my officemate at the time. I'd sent her a text that the turkey had chased me and she called for details while I was headed home. A little nervous but not really concerned, I narrated to her as I came within view of the turkey's usual haunt.
"Oh, there he is. He's just standing there, I don't-- no, he sees me. Okay, eyes forward, minding my own business hejusttookasteptowards-- false alarm, I think he was just shifting his feet?
Wait, no, he is creeping towards the road... He's walking abreast of me, I think? I've past him now, so I can't really see him..."
click click click click
"Aaand he's crossing the road. I kinda just saw him at the corner of my eye. Gonna walk a little faster. I actually am not sure if I hear him or not, there's so much noise from the highway--"
gobblegobble
"Scratch that, I hear him."
gobblegobblegobblegobble
"Okay, screw this, I'm running."
Word of advice? Do not try to run from a wild turkey. Again, though, the top thought in my mind was to get away from "his" yard asap. And even though he'd followed me a good ways the first time, I thought he would leave me alone if I could just get into the complex. Surely even a wild turkey would recognize the diving line between The Road and An Apartment Complex, right?
Lol.
In a nice little callback to the first time this had happened, someone drove up just as I was starting to run and honked at the turkey. She even tried to nudge her truck between us when the honking didn't deter him. I kept on booking it into the complex but I realized the turkey was still following and some part of me decided that it was time to just make a stand. By which I mean I turned and started walking backwards, still too confused to formulate a real plan. The lady who'd honked-- I know her by sight as a neighbor but I don't really know her-- pulled in and hopped out of her truck, swinging a jacket and yelling. The turkey stumbled back a few steps but then came at me again.
"Jeeze, girl," neighbor lady said to me, "what do you have in that bag??"
"Yarn!!"
gobblegobble
This short conversation did serve to remind me that I was carrying a bag, so I swung that at the turkey and startled him back again-- for, like, two seconds. As with the cars that carefully do not run him over, I think he could sense that I didn't really want to hurt him-- and, in spite of being chased, I really didn't. This was my buddy, the turkey! Not that a cheap cloth bag with a few scraps and most of a scarf would've hurt him much anyway but I was nonetheless reluctant to make contact. Neighbor lady swung her jacket at it again, still yelling, and dealing with both of us did send it retreating behind her truck.
In the meantime, a neighbor driving from the other direction saw what was going on and stopped. He stayed in his car a minute, presumably not sure what to do. Which, y'know, mood. It did seem for a moment that it was done. I was just thanking the neighbor lady and heading for the sidewalk to go the rest of the way home when the turkey came around her truck, laid eyes on me again and tried to walk around her to get to me. What tf did I do to piss off this bird??
Whatever his deal was, he wasn't done yet. Neighbor lady started swinging her jacket and yelling again and told me to get in the truck. I didn't need to be told twice, I'll give you that one for free. I hopped in and the kids in the back, who were all, of course, rivetted on the action, informed me as if I didn't know that, "that turkey is angry!"
Despite the anger, without me in his immediate sight, the turkey was a lot more willing to start backing off. The other neighbor had also gotten out of his car somewhere along the way and added to the yelling; he ducked back into his car and emerged with an old Coke bottle to throw. The turkey started to retreat between a couple of parked cars and a third neighbor came out in a pair of shorts to see what was going on. I could tell when he'd spotted the turkey because he stopped dead and looked very confused.
The second neighbor must not have noticed, because he called out to ask the third if he saw it.
"Yeah, man, I see it!"
I couldn't see the turkey by then but I did see the third neighbor hurry to grab a porch broom to brandish at it. I'm not actually sure how all this excitement ended because it ended for me when the neighbor lady drove us away from it.
Oh, did I mention my officemate was still on the phone? Because my officemate was still on the phone. I hadn't actually said anything to her since the honking started, so all she knew was that there was a lot of screaming and gobbling going on. I'd been just barely aware of her yelling for me during this ordeal but, well, I was kind of preoccupied. I got back to the conversation and caught her up on what happened when I got dropped off.
"Dude, what the crap?"
Man, your guess is as good as mine.
Anyway, yeah, I might not take the hill on foot for a minute, lol.
I think I've mentioned before that my apartment complex borders some woods. These woods continue a ways down the hill leading from my complex to the main road. Because of this, it isn't unheard of to see woods-dwelling critters on the way down the hill. In particular, there is a wild turkey that has claimed itself some territory in a residential yard on the hill.
This turkey displays little, if any, fear of people or cars. He has been known to hang out right directly on the side of the road or even in the road. He'll fluff himself up on occasion but he mostly just chills, as I guess he's learned by now that drivers generally want to avoid hitting him. A time or two when I've gone by on foot, I've had to walk out into the road myself to go around him because he had no interest in letting me by.
Despite this behavior, I've always liked this turkey. I respect his attitude towards life and he's just a charming sight to see. He's out and about nearly every time I go to work and getting to see him always makes me feel better about having to get up and go to work. I've always especially liked seeing him when I'm on foot, as there's just something nice about nodding hello at a turkey as I pass.
And let me be clear, I've walked past this turkey at least a hundred times by now. Never had a problem.
Until today.
Today, I headed out to the little tea cafe I like, as was usual for a Saturday before I had to isolate at home and as I would like to be usual again. My officemate and I have tried to make plans to go a few times but she ended up not being available. It turned out that my sister would've been available but I... didn't ask, for some reason? I think I assumed she'd be doing something, Ihdk. She is due in anther couple weeks. I didn't have anyone else to try on short notice, so I bagged up a crochet project to work on and headed out by myself, on foot. It was a beautiful day for a walk anyhow and I was, as always, looking forward to seeing the turkey. And I did see the turkey!
Said turkey was chilling in his usual yard, a ways back from the street. I saw him, he saw me, I smiled and nodded and then put my eyes back forward and kept on about my business. The usual ritual. This time, though. This time, I heard a sort of rustle, like something with modern day dino feet creeping through grass and dead leaves. I glanced back and saw that the turkey was approaching me. Weird, right, but he's not always entirely stand-offish. And I could be wrong. He could just be heading for the road, in my general direction. Whatever. Eyes back front, keeping about my business.
Except then I wasn't hearing the rustle of dino feet in the grass. I was hearing the click click click click of dino claws on pavement. Um?? I glanced back again and, sure enough, the turkey was still approaching. But, hey, he wouldn't want to go too far beyond his usual yard, right? I kept walking.
click click click click
Kept walking.
click click (gobblegobble) click click
Now, I have since learned that when attacked by a wild turkey, the way to respond is to stand your ground, make a lot of noise and wave your arms, swing a jacket, etc, in order to scare it off. At the time, I was operating under the assumption that to deal with a territorial turkey was to simply leave its territory, asap. So, I walked a little faster.
clickclickclickclick(gobblegobblegobble)clickclickclickclick
Dude, wtf??
I didn't want to keep looking back at it but I did want to know where it was. I grabbed my phone and almost turned on my camera. Instead, I video called my sister. I wanted someone to experience this bewildering turn of events with me, I guess. She answered and I blurted out, "The turkey is chasing me!"
"... What?"
I held the phone up and tried to point it over my shoulder. I couldn't aim it very well but I knew when she'd seen the turkey because she said, "uh???" She then, still taken aback, informed me that it was right there behind me. A car came along at about that time and I sped up again just to make it clear to this passing stranger that the turkey and I were not sharing a companionable stroll. The driver honked at the turkey and that prompted me to turn and look again, which I did just in time to see the turkey regain its composure and continue to chase me. That car slowed and another approached and both honked, By that time, though, I wasn't paying attention to them-- I was focused on the dog in the yard just ahead.
This is a dog I've been walking past for years longer than I've been walking past the turkey and he still barks at me every single time. And this time, I was counting on it. He saw me and started up his racket and I speed-walked by him. I looked back again once I passed and, sure enough, the turkey had turned back. He was still looking at me but he wasn't willing to get any closer to the dog. I caught my breath, wallowed with my sister in our shared confusion and went on with what I was doing.
Not that tea and a scone put the issue entirely out of my mind. I still needed to go home, of course, and I was well aware that there was no barking dog on the other side to dissuade the turkey from following me the other way. I wasn't as concerned as I apparently should've been, though, simply because I had gone by so many times before without incident. So, sure, there'd been a fluke this one time. But a fluke is a fluke. If the turkey didn't want me walking so close to his yard this one time, for whatever reason, I would just walk on the other side of the road instead. Besides, he doesn't spend his entire day in the yard. Maybe he wouldn't even be there.
Guess what? He was there.
I was on the phone with my officemate at the time. I'd sent her a text that the turkey had chased me and she called for details while I was headed home. A little nervous but not really concerned, I narrated to her as I came within view of the turkey's usual haunt.
"Oh, there he is. He's just standing there, I don't-- no, he sees me. Okay, eyes forward, minding my own business hejusttookasteptowards-- false alarm, I think he was just shifting his feet?
Wait, no, he is creeping towards the road... He's walking abreast of me, I think? I've past him now, so I can't really see him..."
click click click click
"Aaand he's crossing the road. I kinda just saw him at the corner of my eye. Gonna walk a little faster. I actually am not sure if I hear him or not, there's so much noise from the highway--"
gobblegobble
"Scratch that, I hear him."
gobblegobblegobblegobble
"Okay, screw this, I'm running."
Word of advice? Do not try to run from a wild turkey. Again, though, the top thought in my mind was to get away from "his" yard asap. And even though he'd followed me a good ways the first time, I thought he would leave me alone if I could just get into the complex. Surely even a wild turkey would recognize the diving line between The Road and An Apartment Complex, right?
Lol.
In a nice little callback to the first time this had happened, someone drove up just as I was starting to run and honked at the turkey. She even tried to nudge her truck between us when the honking didn't deter him. I kept on booking it into the complex but I realized the turkey was still following and some part of me decided that it was time to just make a stand. By which I mean I turned and started walking backwards, still too confused to formulate a real plan. The lady who'd honked-- I know her by sight as a neighbor but I don't really know her-- pulled in and hopped out of her truck, swinging a jacket and yelling. The turkey stumbled back a few steps but then came at me again.
"Jeeze, girl," neighbor lady said to me, "what do you have in that bag??"
"Yarn!!"
gobblegobble
This short conversation did serve to remind me that I was carrying a bag, so I swung that at the turkey and startled him back again-- for, like, two seconds. As with the cars that carefully do not run him over, I think he could sense that I didn't really want to hurt him-- and, in spite of being chased, I really didn't. This was my buddy, the turkey! Not that a cheap cloth bag with a few scraps and most of a scarf would've hurt him much anyway but I was nonetheless reluctant to make contact. Neighbor lady swung her jacket at it again, still yelling, and dealing with both of us did send it retreating behind her truck.
In the meantime, a neighbor driving from the other direction saw what was going on and stopped. He stayed in his car a minute, presumably not sure what to do. Which, y'know, mood. It did seem for a moment that it was done. I was just thanking the neighbor lady and heading for the sidewalk to go the rest of the way home when the turkey came around her truck, laid eyes on me again and tried to walk around her to get to me. What tf did I do to piss off this bird??
Whatever his deal was, he wasn't done yet. Neighbor lady started swinging her jacket and yelling again and told me to get in the truck. I didn't need to be told twice, I'll give you that one for free. I hopped in and the kids in the back, who were all, of course, rivetted on the action, informed me as if I didn't know that, "that turkey is angry!"
Despite the anger, without me in his immediate sight, the turkey was a lot more willing to start backing off. The other neighbor had also gotten out of his car somewhere along the way and added to the yelling; he ducked back into his car and emerged with an old Coke bottle to throw. The turkey started to retreat between a couple of parked cars and a third neighbor came out in a pair of shorts to see what was going on. I could tell when he'd spotted the turkey because he stopped dead and looked very confused.
The second neighbor must not have noticed, because he called out to ask the third if he saw it.
"Yeah, man, I see it!"
I couldn't see the turkey by then but I did see the third neighbor hurry to grab a porch broom to brandish at it. I'm not actually sure how all this excitement ended because it ended for me when the neighbor lady drove us away from it.
Oh, did I mention my officemate was still on the phone? Because my officemate was still on the phone. I hadn't actually said anything to her since the honking started, so all she knew was that there was a lot of screaming and gobbling going on. I'd been just barely aware of her yelling for me during this ordeal but, well, I was kind of preoccupied. I got back to the conversation and caught her up on what happened when I got dropped off.
"Dude, what the crap?"
Man, your guess is as good as mine.
Anyway, yeah, I might not take the hill on foot for a minute, lol.