I can’t eat turkeys. Or really any birds for that matter. I’ve tried. I can do chicken in the form of shredded and nugget and sandwich but the second it resembles what it was alive, I’m out. All the legs and wings and bodies…blahhc!!I’m not a vegetarian. Or an aviaron? Made up word. Also that might be someone who only eats birds, or maybe studies birds? which is making my heart beat fast to just think about.
I made a turkey one year. It was given to me. I felt I should use it. I did all the things to make it and it was beautiful and I’m told delicious except I couldn’t even look at it. Preparing it was probably one of the more difficult things I’ve done in life. Right up with having babies and a pain shot in my foot for an ingrown toenail.
I kept looking at this turkey. All lacking his feathers and head. But his body visible but void of vital organs. He couldn’t fly anymore and I could hold his wings up. It’s just not natural. The neck and stuff stuffed into a bag. Side note. I have the same problem with lobster and fish and frogs, if they lay in front of me with their bodies all cooked and an eyeball staring back at me pleading me not to eat him but release him. Animals just can’t look like what they were alive.
We don’t typically stare at our cows and other meat in this fashion so it seems strange to me that it’s just a convenience a bird is small enough to shove into a crockpot if you break it’s legs and hold the lid down with a large rock. I am certain if a cow lay in front of me to prepare I would never be able to eat it. I have been part of a neighborhood hog ownership that gave us part of a hog. Part of the deal was my husband at the time had to help butcher. I’m out. I never ate that pork. For awhile I protested this pork and was a temporary just grazer and eater of anything but the animal we helped slaughter. I had pet chickens not chickens I ate. I can almost not even eat eggs if I think of baby birds. I choke them down occasionally because I think they are delicious except if they are a baby chicken in my mind.
Oddly this all takes me back to when I was in high school ffa and judged meat. I don’t know what took me down that direction other than a crush on a cute guy who didn’t even know I existed. The things we do for love…I can judge meat and tell you where it came from on the body like some sort of cow anatomy specialist. I spent too many days Im comfortable remembering looking at cows butchered. Yet I can eat ribeye with no probelmo.
Once my son came home from hunting dove. It would take roughly 12 to feed a large person. The breast cooked is the size of a nugget. The waste was a bag full of body of bird and feathers. It looked like a bloody down pillow exploded after they were done cleaning them. I couldn’t eat them.
I don’t even really love birds. I’m not a bird stalker or a bird rights activist. I think there are too many Canadian geese and robins. I get frustrated when I can’t hear something over the birds. I had a parakeet as a pet as a child. I also fell asleep with it and suffocated it on accident under my arms. I was cuddling with a bird. No one told me it’s not the same as cuddling with a puppy. I placed the bird in my dresser drawer and told no one. I was shocked the amount of time it took anyone to realize how quiet the cage became with the lack of a bird. My mom points this story out when I think of owning a bird again. The responsibility that comes with it means to not suffocate him with love.
I started to notice the amount of places I would see turkeys several years ago. If I think back I can think even of times I would see them where they belonged. In fields and woods edges but I started to see them in places they shouldn’t be. Wild turkeys on my urban running trail through town. I know they lived in a little tucked in woods that once belonged to the railroad that is long gone and now is a place we all run to. These turkey would meander casually across roads as if they owned the world.
Once I was driving along and stopped knowing the cars in front of me were stopped to let the turkeys cross. As they crossed the oncoming vehicle did not stop and creamed one. Right before my eyes. Feathers flew and the bird lay dead in the road. He was probably so confused that second before impact. His ritual being to walk this way to get to his water hole. Or dig worms or just freak out runners on the trail. Just doing turkey things.
I became obsessed with this flock of turkeys. As the years passed the numbers fizzled away. Were people eating them? Was someone hunting here in the city limits. Sitting and stalking my birds to feed their family. I panicked more than one should before thanksgiving over the turkeys. One year walking the trail to be certain they were safe from our hungry pilgrims and Indians. I’ve called the parks department to see about a turkey crossing sign. No one called me back. They could have at minimum entertained the idea. No harm in a discussion on a sign for turkeys, we have goose crossing signs and they are protected by migratory laws that keep you from moving nests and killing them. They seem to own the sky. They are our signal for weather. When they fly in vs a certain direction. I couldn’t eat a goose no matter how many I think there are. Their neck alone would freak me out. It is too long. It’s a gooseneck. It would be stuffed into a giant bag. I’m nauseous now.
The turkey showing up randomly can have a meaning. I googled it quickly after this turkey stalked me after a long hike with my girls. He was following me and then I got to my car and he stood tall and proudly behind my car. I got out and shooed him away. He walked back to my car. He stood in the road. What was he protesting? The shelter in place order? He misses his company in the park. He misses his rangers. Who are furloughed during this time with no buildings to maintain and potty’s to clean. He was lonely. He was a reminder. He wasn’t sent from beyond by my dad. That’s too ridiculous for even me. He was all messed up as are the geese. Geese walk around in roads less traveled and streets less populated. They feel comfy and safe with all the laws they don’t know that protect them during migration and casually strolling the empty streets. I heard a lady was attacked in an uptown area of our hometown by a goose. It knocked her down and her glasses broke. They hiss. I’ve gotten too close too many times to feel the threat of the fact they are threatened. They are protected they say.
So here is what google says:
The turkey spirit animal is closely associated with the abundance of the Earth. It is a symbol of all the blessings you receive from Mother Nature. The turkey comes into your life to remind you to honor what Earth has to offer. More importantly, be ready to share your gifts, talents, and blessings with the world.
It was perfect. I like a good something to believe in. It is a neat and tidy wrap up to my turkey mental anguish. or bird mental anguish. I like meat and tidy. It’s one more thread loosened.
Aspenleaf 