We have turkeys in our yard. Usually there is a whole flock that stop by and visit but this year there are only two. I keep wondering where their friends are. My husband thinks wild turkey would make a great dinner. I have a rule. If I name it, it’s not dinner. Sounds reasonable to me. So obviously the male is Tom. Turkeys are always Tom. We have a friend Tom. His wife’s name is Wilma. I decided I could keep the turkeys safe by naming them Tom and Wilma. Tom and Wilma are wonderful people and good friends so I’m sure my husband will not have the heart to have their name sakes for dinner.
This morning Wilma (the turkey) was in the yard. She headed down the driveway toward the street. I’m at the window calling out . . . Wilma, Wilma, stay away from the street. You don’t want to be road kill. I don’t want turkey Dinner. Just then she flew across the street. Not high, turkeys don’t fly high, but wild turkeys do fly a little. Which reminded me of my FAVORITE WKRP episode.