Was coming down Beacon street at Washington Square today (busy Boston intersection), when I looked out the window at a red light and saw, lo and behold, a very large tom turkey, complete with 8-10" beard. He was walking the above ground section of subway tracks along Beacon like he'd been doing it all his life. I sprung into action, and parked the truck nearby. I promptly took the half-eaten
gingerbread man off Airi that she had just bought at Starbuck's, and approached quietly. The turkey seemed wary (as he damn well should have been), but after a few beakfuls of gingerbread goodness, he patiently waited for more. I was down to a leg and head (of the gingerbread man), when I sprung my trap and dove for him. Ironically, I was directly in front of Golden Temple (Chinese Restauarnt) when I went for him. I launched at the
big bastard as he went for the ginger leg in the snow, and grabbed a fistful of his neck in my right hand. At that point, he got excited-
-a *lot* excited, I assure you. He began flapping and kicking, but inside a second or two, I had his wings pinned against my chest with my right hand, and his neck in my left. I told Airi to open the back door, and I wrapped the chirping bundle of freaked out birdiness in a blanket. I then covered his head in what fabric left I had available; my orange hunting vest. Ah, the irony. I then called Vito to see if his buddy had room for a huge wild turkey (he is a bird keeper, and has an expansive aviary, with some 70 species of waterfowl), and the answer was no. I then tried Jack, who raises chickens, but should have known better. He suggested I find a friend's house or car left unlocked, and let Mr. Turk in. Nice friend! Instead, I had Airi climb in back to keep the bird pinned and wrapped, and she did a bang-up job without complaint or fear (man, did I marry the right girl or what?).

We then drove away from the busy urban area with trains and speeding cars to the fens, with me giggling the whole way, feeling like a master
kidnapper, where I had Airi let loose of the bundle. I unwrapped him carefully and grabbed him up again. I then ran across the Riverway
through traffic to get to the other side (why'd the turkey cross the road? Because some crazy bastard gave him no damned choice, that's why). I set him down gently, and watched him strut away toward the river quite looking a little freaked, but essentially unconcerned. Mission accomplished!

How many turkeys you think have gotten a ride in a truck in Boston and lived to tell about it? I'd say about exactly one. Ordinarily I'd have just let the bird be, but I figured this guy would have little chance of survival if left in that busy city intersection. He at least has a fighting chance now, I guess, and my wife and I have yet another tale to smile about.

The bird Gods have no choice but to smile upon me for the rest of the season, I'd say!

L

Good work Kamo. Hope the Boston mayor gives you the big turkey award for the year.

Nah, I like my anonymity. If and when I figure out how to download pics from my phone, I'll post a couple up. Funny chit!