Vantage Point: Turkeys atop the pecking order

Written by Wendy Gerber
Thursday, 19 November 2009 01:00

Why is it that in October, just when Thanksgiving is around the corner, the wild turkeys parade around the wilds of Lewisboro as if flaunting their inherited place on the Thanksgiving dinner table? Each year when they appear, I wonder if they have a subconscious “death wish” or if they are simply dumb. (Their reputation does precede them, leading some people to use the word “turkey” to mean inept or stupid. I have never done this, preferring not to impugn turkeys or people.)

Or maybe they think they’ll be one of the two turkeys “pardoned” each year by the President right before Thanksgiving and will achieve turkey fame by being sent to Disney World to lead the Thanksgiving Day parade, understandably preferring 15 minutes of fame to four hours in the oven! (Sorry guys, but the turkeys presented to the President for “pardon” prior to Thanksgiving have generally been “broad-breasted white” turkeys, the dominant commercial breed; brown-feathered wild turkeys have not been selected — might be a good year to file a discrimination claim!)

I must admit that I eat turkey at Thanksgiving, though I am not a fan of hunting as sport. While the turkeys may roam freely across my lawn, it doesn’t seem the smartest move on their part, since my neighbor is an experienced hunter. Many animals prey upon turkeys, including skunks, owls, raccoons, hawks, and coyotes. But humans are the leading predators. The eastern wild turkey that we see in Lewisboro, which the Puritans first encountered in the wild, is the most hunted wild turkey species.

Most of the turkeys that I have seen are not particularly attractive. As with most bird species, the male toms are more brightly colored than the female hens, with feathers of red, copper, bronze, and iridescent gold. They have large featherless reddish heads with fleshy growths called caruncles, snoods (flaps of skin hanging off the top of their beaks), and wattles (on the underside of the beak) — who named their body parts anyway? Their heads change color when they get excited. Female hens are duller, in shades of brown and gray.

Wild turkeys have interesting courting habits. They are polygamous and form territories that may have as many as five hens within them. Males display for females by puffing out their feathers, spreading out their tails and dragging their wings. This behavior is most commonly referred to as “strutting.” (Human males have been known to perform similar acts.) Males are often seen courting in pairs who are closely related and who “strut” together (the authentic fowl version of flirting with a wing man). The average dominant male that courted as part of a pair fathered six more eggs than males that courted alone, thus enabling both Don Juan and his wing man to score. Talk about teamwork!

While turkeys are popularly believed to be unintelligent — with claims made that during a rainstorm turkeys will look up until they drown — this is due to a genetic nervous disorder called tetanic torticollar spasms. And jokes that the turkey is clumsy and too stupid to realize it can’t fly are unfair because this is man’s fault — modern breeding makes domesticated turkeys much heavier than their wild relatives. In fact, wild turkeys are great short-distance flyers that can fly up to 55 miles per hour! They can also run faster than an Olympic runner — up to 18 miles per hour. Who’s the turkey now?

If it had been up to Benjamin Franklin, the turkey would have replaced the bald eagle as the national bird. Mr. Franklin wrote his daughter in 1784 that the bald eagle lived by stealing food from others and was lazy and a coward. He suggested that the more respectable turkey, a true original native of America, would have made a better alternative.

Speaking of alternatives, turkeys may even contribute to alternative energy sources. Turkey droppings mixed with bedding material (usually wood chips) are being used as a fuel source in electric power plants in Minnesota and Michigan to provide electricity for thousands of homes, as well as heat.

So the next time you see that wild turkey trotting across your lawn, or plan your dinner menu for Thanksgiving, or even think about calling someone a “turkey,” remember that perhaps turkeys could help end our country’s dependence on foreign oil. Frankly, I suspect they’d prefer to be that kind of meal ticket. And that would certainly restore the turkeys’ rightful place in America and knock the bald eagle off its limb.