Elvis is ready and waiting.
How local? My new home in another state, 1930 miles on the West side of me now. But let’s go with my current local. Home is where the heart is…. Be it fuzzy or not. One in a beam of light. And the other in his winter plug in home.
I don’t see any frogs…why?
Seventeen years and,they dint even taste good
I have no pictures of the encounter. But these are the participants. Above weighing in at 7 1/2 pounds is Tommi Girl, defender of the household, Queen of her domain, fuzzy ruler of the backyard, fifteen years old. Below, Tess Turkey, thirty pounds worth of bad ass bird. Notorious territorial, secretive, elusive, well not so much any more.
I have three cats in the yard. I’m pulling weeds. I have a handful of weeds and partial behind an above ground pond. I turn Tommi is eyeballing the turkey. She is clucking at the cat. Turkeys apparently cluck to warning something they are nervous. Tommi is staying put. I am within twenty five feet of the turkey myself. I start to collect cats. I grab the two other cats, leaving Tommi. I’m thinking a bird four time her weight, three times taller than her……she wouldn’t try nothing.
Well, I turn after throwing two cats in. I’m expecting the door, me, the cat staring the turkey down will all lead to the secretive bird flying off. The turkey struts away from the cat clucking faster. The cat starting slinking after the turkey. The two fast walk fifty feet. I’m thinking the bird is going to stop and peck the hell out of my cat. Turkeys have gone after people! Tommi gets within ten feet. I swing in and pick her up. The turkey stares at the cat. As I take Tommi in the turkey follows us to the bird feeder. She is thought to have poulets in the woods. But from inside Tommi went to her window looking a lot like this