Melvin and the Turkey

Meet Melvin, our miracle worker mechanic! He’s like Bob. He can fix it.

Sounds like a great children’s book right?!  Melvin is 10 years old and desperately wants to bring a turkey home for Thanksgiving dinner.  So he trots out with his daddy’s gun hopeful and confident at the same time.  But wait…Melvin forgot the ammo.  What to do? What to do?

I KNOW!  He’ll just run smack dab into the turkey, who is in fright flight, with his 1972 blue Chevy pickup.  And smash it all up.  The turkey AND the pickup.  Smashed to smithereens.  Ok not the whole pickup but most definitely the whole turkey.  Actually, the truck’s windshield took the biggest vehicular hit, so to speak. 

Thing is…the turkey not only hit the windshield…he also went through the windshield and ended his journey only when he smacked the inside of the back window.  Melvin?  He was ducking.  And trying to keep the truck on the road.  And avoid turkey innards and whatever else happened to fly his way.  Melvin’s way, not the turkey.  By then, the turkey didn’t really care.  He was DOA.

Uhh, no. This will not be served with dressing. Ever.

And the scary thing is…Melvin could have been hurt.  Happens a lot out here.  We have huge turkey flocks who love our corn fields and the creek banks.  When we first moved back, there weren’t many turkeys.  Our boys reduced the coyote population in hopes that it would encourage the turkey population. It did.  Now, it’s hard to run a truck down our road without seeing one.  Or 50.  Once I looked out and there were over 90 in my yard. 

There are hunting seasons on these guys and our boys usually bag their limit.  And nothing…not even the highly revered Butterballs…tastes as good as wild turkey.  Especially if it’s smoked.  Oh man.  I can smell it now.

I’ve tried to do my part in turkey population control…well, not on purpose.  The first thing I did when we got our new Chevy pickup 2 years ago was slam into a wild turkey.  My first drive in it.  I couldn’t believe it.  The stupid turkey took aim and whammed right into the Chevy insignia on the hood.  Just my luck.  I was on my way to Texas early that morning and conveniently forgot to tell Big Boss until I got home, a week later.  Yep, he asked.  And I could not tell a lie.  Hey, it wasn’t my fault!  You know what he asked?  Did it kill the turkey?  Same question he asks every time I hit a deer only then he asks first if it was a buck.  Then, if it killed him/her.  His concern for my safety is overwhelming! 

Note to self: Call the insurance man in the morning.

Well, Melvin survived.  The turkey did not.  And Melvin gets to try and clean a very turkeyfied shirt.  And the inside of his truck.  Good luck Melvin!  I’m cheering you on. And I’m really glad you didn’t get hurt.

Disclaimer: I have NO idea if Melvin’s pickup is a 1972.  I’ll find out in the morning just so you know I’m concerned about accuracy on this here blog.  🙂

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2 Responses to Melvin and the Turkey

  1. Lynda Clifford says:

    melvin looks good for10!


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