THE TURKEY AFFAIR

I was attacked by wild turkeys and lived to tell this tale
By Tony Wade | | December 02, 2007 23:06

I would think that not too many things would be funnier than watching a 6-foot-4 man fighting off three wild turkeys with a stick early in the morning except for the fact that the man was me.

Yes, they must've read my column last week about Thanksgiving turkey tryptophan robbing me of my creativity and decided to extract a measure of revenge for their fallen and delicious comrade (although that article wasn't printed in Turkish, as far as I know).

Or maybe they read the one the week before about my bird phobia. By the way, my sister-in-law Patty was extremely compassionate when she learned of my condition. At Thanksgiving, her derisive, convulsive laughter only stopped when she started to choke.

As I walked along Tolenas Road on Friday morning, I encountered the turkeys and could not believe how aggressive the Foster Farm refugees were. I actually landed several blows with my stick, and they kept coming. I then pulled out my pepper spray and squirted them, but that didn't slow them down either (although it probably served as an excellent spicy marinade). Finally, I got away from the three Butterballs of Death and raised my arms in Rocky-like triumph.

I called the Fairfield police, who told me to call Fairfield Animal Control, which told me to call the County Animal Control, which told me to call Fish and Game, which told me to call a county biologist. Instead I went home, got my F-150 and ran over the three feathered menaces. OK, I didn't do that, but I was concerned about them. I mean, there I was a big ol' man with a stick and they weren't afraid of me; how would they react to a child walking to school at Tolenas?

Geez, the only problem I used to have years ago with wild turkey was hangovers.


MY RESPONSE:

THE ALLEGED BUTTERBALLS OF DEATH SPEAK OUT
by Kelvin Wade

Perhaps you've read Tony Wade's account of three wild turkeys that23304686 allegedly attacked him on Tolenas Road. If not, you can read it here. Well, I had an exclusive interview with one of the turkeys in question who swears Wade's version was... well... gobbledygook. For his own safety, I won't use the bird's actual name. We'll call him Tom.

ME: How did the altercation start?

TOM: Me and my brothers were minding our business when we were set upon by a deranged, hungry 6' 4" black man.

ME: Did he have a stick?

TOM: Stick? No, there was no stick. It was a fork. And he didn't pepper-spray us. It wasn't pepper-spray, it was some kind of aerosol poultry seasoning.

ME: Mr. Wade says he was concerned about you and your brothers.

TOM: Concerned? I could smell my uncle on his breath! A can of cranberry sauce fell out of his pocket while he was trying to skewer us!

ME: Why should people believe you?

TOM: Hey, we weren't the ones with the weapons. You don't see me and my brothers bragging about having eaten humans!

ME: What did you do about the incident?

TOM: Well, I called Turkish Police who told me to call Turkish Human Control, who told me to call Fish and People, who in turn told me to call a County Chef. Huh?

ME: What have been the after-effects of this trauma?

TOM: My younger brother has nightmares of being rolled into a Thanksgiving Burrito. My older brother Lurkey was so distraught, he went home to take a hot shower and almost drowned staring upwards with anxiety. So don't believe everything you read, people!

ME: I report. You decide.

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