Readers may recall my earlier close encounter with the wild turkeys that wander around the housing complex where I live. We could call that encounter a draw. But a couple of days ago, I had a rematch with one of them and this time the turkey was clearly the victor.
What happened was that I was going out somewhere and as I started driving on the road that exits the complex, I saw four turkeys ahead of me, straddling the road. I stopped to let them move on but turkeys are pretty casual about getting out of the way of cars and just hung around. After waiting some time, I drove around them but one of them took umbrage at this act of disrespect and chased after my car. I sped up and left it behind.
About half an hour later I returned and that turkey was still there in the middle of the road. Again I stopped but since it did not look like it was going anywhere, I again went around it and parked in my spot. But I found that it had followed my car and was now standing in the space between my car and the next so that I could not open my door. I waited, hoping that it would go away but it looked like it had no intention of doing so and would occasionally raise its head and look at me through the window in what seemed like a menacing manner, as if challenging me to come out and fight. I had no intention of taking up that challenge. I remembered my neighbor having to fend off a charging turkey with a golf club and Gerald the turkey that terrorized residents of a park in Oakland, CA. At one point it moved away a little but when I opened the door, it came back so I shut the door again.
After about ten minutes, I decided to drive away in the hope that the turkey would find something better to do in my absence or find another target for its obsessions. It again followed my car as I drove off. After about five minutes I came back but when I parked the car, lo and behold, the turkey had reappeared and came between the two cars again. There is something extremely embarrassing about being held hostage in one’s car by what is essentially an oversized chicken. I felt very much like I was in the scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where a killer rabbit laid waste to King Arthur’s knights.
I waited for another ten minutes until it moved towards the back of the car and a little bit away. I then got out and walked quickly away, not looking back.
I had never given turkeys much thought before I moved to Monterey but now have became curious about these birds. I had been under the impression that they could not fly but have learned that that is a misconception that arises because they spend so much time on the ground. They can fly, and indeed need to since they roost at night on trees, but they can only fly for about a quarter of a mile. They can run at speeds of up to 25 mph and can fly at speeds of 55 mph, which is pretty impressive. Wild turkeys “also have a 270-degree field of vision and can see three times more clearly than 20/20.” Since they can weigh up to 25 lbs, they are clearly not to be trifled with,
What I could not find out is whether they have long memories and hold grudges or whether they let bygones be bygones, because I am pretty sure this saga is not over. The lifespan of a wild turkey is three to four years so my nemesis should be no more in a couple of years unless they pass on information about whom to harass to the next generation. I wouldn’t put it past them, the crazy bastards.
Maybe keep an umbrella in your car, That way, you are ready for any unexpected rain or unexpected ambush by wild turkey.
I know that’s not funny, and I sincerely apologize, but it’s funny. I remember working at a horse ranch and one day, while talking to the owner’s wife, a rooster came up to me and started threat displays. She was scared to death of that rooster and started screaming warnings to me. I calmly leaned down (he had walked right up to my feet) and put my hand on his wings over the top of his body while pushing him to the ground at the same time, picked him up and holding him under one arm (well away from my face -- chickens WILL peck at your face) began petting him and continued the conversation. The rooster was absolutely aghast that I would do that to him, the owner of the ranch was amazed. That rooster never came near me again. He had had enough humble pie for the rest of his life.
Turkeys are a lot bigger -- that rooster probably only weighed about 8 pounds -- so it would be difficult to do that to a turkey. (Although strapping men might take a try.) The jakes can indeed to be aggressive, and you see, it’s coming into spring and there is more daylight. This is triggering hormones. You might try going to a ranch store or farm store and trying to acquire a carriage or lunging whip, meant for horses. It allows you to touch the turkey from far away which surprises them. If you must strike at the turkey (hopefully not), go after the legs, or beat the crap out of the ground. You can’t hurt the legs, and that is disconcerting to them.
Making it essentially a bigger dinosaur. Doesn’t that feel better?
Not quite a tyrannosaurus though. I mean, it is just a turkey after all. But still….
check out the article in the Washington Post yesterday. Fascinating! The jist of it is that the insurrectionists have a big factor in common that doesn’t have anything to do with white supremecy or current financial hardship. That is, that as youths growing up, they lived in a home environment with an unemployed parent. Not willing to blame the parent, they instead (mainly the sons) substituted an existential threat, the government, as the source of their (families) problems. When I heard this, I went “Yeah!” this explains my own family’s dilemma. I have 3 siblings who exhibit insurrectionist beliefs -- not acted upon that I know of -- and who would have thought that because of our family’s unemployed father, that down the line my siblings views have been created because of this early home experience! Wow!
You must be a very attractive turkey of (presumably) the opposite sex.
Or maybe the turkey is a keen physics student?
I don’t think so. I’ve seen what a swan can do to a fully grown man, broken arm and 2 broken ribs for not backing down when said swan started making noise warning him to get the hell away from the nest.
And while a swan is on average a kilo or two heavier then a male turkey I doubt that the turkey will do less damage if it is serious about attacking.
That said the government of Massachusetts has this to say about this kind of behavior:
You would be wise to avoid getting into a scrap with a male turkey. Like roosters, they are armed with sharp spurs on their legs which they use for defense or offense.
Young males are the usual culprits. They get twitterpated, and attempt to woo, or engage in combat with various unsuitable creatures. (Chickens, housecats, their reflection in a shiny surface)
It probably saw itself reflected in your car, and is utterly
confused.
If it does begin acting aggressive, raise your arms to the side to make yourself bigger and taller than the jake. Be prepared to whack a bird, but they generally run off as soon as you “get bigger”. The worst a turkey could do is jump on you and scratch, but they can’t really hurt you, unlike swans.
Swans have club bones in their wings, and are quite capable of breaking your arm. You have to grab them from behind and pin the wings to prevent being beat up by an angry hissing dinosaur.
I guess turkey dinner would be out of the question?
kestrel @ # 2 & Tethys @ # 8: … jake[s] …
Hadn’t heard or seen that usage before. Where I come from, we call (both wild and farm) male turkeys “toms” -- as does my dictionary.
I really like the umbrella suggestion. In addition to being a nice defense, you can puff it in and out and look like that dinosaur in the original Jurassic Park, with your own threat display.
Yeah, we’re monkeys. Use a stick.
#9 StonedRanger:
Mano could invite Marcus, to put on of the latter’s katanas to use.
But I guess that would violate more than one law.
YIKES! That is one determined mini-dino.
If you have seen that episode of Red Dwarf, you know that even small birds have a horrible potential.
Stoned Ranger said
Yeah, probably, but I’d meet one for coffee.
@Pierce Butler
A jake is an immature male turkey. They haven’t ever gotten to mate. A Tom knows that the chickens and housecats do not respond to their mating displays.
Well now, speak for yourself.
P.S. Happy Palindrome Day! to those who express their dates correctly, 12022021.
Sorry, Americans, your consolation prize is you get Pi Day, 3.14.
We never get pie. 🙁
I don’t know what the hell Ben Franklin was talking about, these things are clearly pushing the limits of how dumb a creature can get, and still get around on just two legs…
Some time back, I was jogging in the Berkeley hills, and came up on a group of turkeys, and accidentally trapped one in a fence. I was on the sidewalk, fence to my left, road to my right, turkey in front of me. Turkey looked at me, went to flee to my left, put it’s head/neck through the fence, and couldn’t get any further. Retracted it’s head/neck, looked at me again (I’ve stopped jogging, and am just kinda curious what this overgrown lunch is going to do), and then turns and sticks it’s head/neck into the fence again. It repeated this cycle a couple more times before it turned completely around and half-assed fled down the sidewalk.
There’s a handful that hangout near where I work, and they like to hangout in neglected bus stops. When I approach, they usually look concerned and briskly walk away. Sometimes the males will puff up and try to put on a brave front, but almost always by the time I pull out my phone, they’ve shuffled off enough I can’t get a decent pic. I did see one attack a Canada Goose once, so that was briefly amusing…
I’m not sure what I would do if one were being aggressive towards me… Although I can’t take them too seriously, the idea of something that much smaller than me, and so, so, so dumb threatening me is kinda hard to tolerate. I don’t really want to harm one of them, so that would sorta limit my actions if one got really aggressive. I imagine I’d get a stick, so I could poke/prod/smack it in a not-terribly-damaging manner, whilst still keeping it out of range.
Well, you do what you want, but I’m celebrating it on 2021-12-02, eleven days before Festivus.
Um, no. Unless the guy was elderly and tripped, just no. Human bones are far more durable than avian bones, on account of us being terrestrial.
I’ve had similar encounters with Canada Geese.
First rule, never look them in the eyes.
Tethys @ # 18: A jake is an immature male turkey.
Thanks. Online dictionaries support that meaning, though mine doesn’t (sob!).
In defense of the intelligence of turkeys: chain-link fences have not been around for millions of years, so it’s kind of unfair to expect a bird to have changed in an evolutionary fashion to respond to them. I’ve heard people expect the same out of a dog, which are pretty freaking intelligent as far as it goes: they expect that a dog will understand to watch out for cars when crossing a road. This is insane. Not even children (baby humans) are completely able to do that. If you own a dog (or a turkey, or have a child) it is *your* responsibility to make sure they don’t get run over by a car. They can not magically figure out all the traps that modern society has set out for them.
You all might find this topical movie review…amusing…
http://www.ruthlessreviews.com/48390/birdemic-shock-and-terror/
No, you’ll haven’t, that’s a ridiculous urban myth. There’s no way a swan can physically break a man’s arm. Human bones are far more dense than the ‘strutted’, lightweight structure of swans’ bones. Put another way, if a swan had bones strong enough to break a human’s arm without damage to itself, it would be too heavy to fly.
Or was it a highly-trained, tactical ninja swan?
Or was it a highly-trained, tactical ninja swan?
It was the commentator claiming they’d seen an arm-breaking attack. Omitted was that they were who was in the swan costume, and the attacked individual was the Pillsbury Doughboy — which was nailed to the ground so the costumed commentator would have a fair chance.
</snark>I admit that at one time I did believe the arm-breaking myth (for both swans and geese). I grew out of it. A recent search failed to find any verifiable incidents (for swans (didn’t search for geese)), other than one individual who drowned. That person was apparently fully-clothed and paddling a canoe, the attacking swan (probably defending a nearby nest) managed to cause the canoe to capsize, and the individual was unable to swim to shore. (Some reports state the swan impeded his attempts to swim.)