Tuesday, November 23, 2004

I am sitting here half way through my blogwalking, still unable to connect to blogger to post. I was just gonna compose in it, and keep it short. Silly me. The dashboard opens but I can not get into post. GRRR !!!! I hope all of you people out there with cable and DSL are very appreciative of what you have. It feels like there is a blockage or something in the line. Kinda like the shower drain when it is full of hair. SSSSLLLLOOOOWWWWW!!!!! Wish there was some way to pour Drain-O down the phone line.

I wanted to post a picture of Tom today too, but since I can’t get on, it might not get posted. Tom is a wild Turkey that lived in the trees where I lived in Fallon, Nevada.
We lived about 1/10th of a mile from the Carson River, and the Turkeys and Peacocks were thriving there. They would find their way over to the farm next door, and eventually to my yard.

Tom showed up in my yard early one spring with a harem of three hens. Chitters was in the window above my bed and started growling. Since he only growls at things he doesn’t understand, like earthquakes, I peeked over the windowsill. I saw Tom and being the animal lover that I am, I Gobbled at him. Gobble gobble gobble,. He stopped dead in his tracks and up went his tail and out puffed his feathers. Gobble Gobble Gobble he answered back. We did this for a few minutes, and then I went back to sleep.


tom


Every Saturday morning for as long as I lived there, he would come over to my house at 800 in the morning and peck on the wall right under my window. I would Gobble Gobble Gobble and he would fluff up and gobble back. I don’t know whether he was challenging me or trying to get me into his harem!

I would walk over to the farm on some days, and visit, and Tom would be following the farmer around pecking at his pocket. Then he would get a peanut. Peck the pocket, get a peanut, He was so cool!! The hens laid and hatched baby Turkeys but they never survived the coyotes. When I left, it was just Tom. He was too tough to eat, so he was the neighborhood pet. I was always afraid that some crazy hunter would drive by and shoot him, but they never did. Tom may be living still.

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