Shared Blessings - A Turkey Tale

Our friend and regular Exit133 reader, Meredith Hale, sent us a turkey tale that seems appropriate for this Thanksgiving eve.  It’s set near Point Defiance on a residential street.  Add a turkey, a camera phone, and an animal loving citizen, and there’s plenty of fun to be had by all…

Every other month I go to the Franke Tobey Jones Retirement Community near Point Defiance Park to offer art classes to the residents.  I always have a great time and leave with a smile on my face.  One day, a few months ago, I set off from Tobey Jones to run a few work-related errands.

As I left, I looked ahead and noticed something large and brown in the road.  As I got closer, I realized it was a turkey.  Yes, a turkey.  I pulled over with some concern for the turkey’s safety – It didn’t seem normal that a turkey was walking down the street in a residential area.  My first thought was that it was from the zoo at Pt. Defiance.  Granted, a turkey is a far cry from an elephant, but where else would it have come from?  I pulled over to decide what to do.  The turkey sidled up to my car, fascinated.  I guess cars are pretty remarkable to a turkey.  It seemed enthralled, turning its head and pecking at my back bumper.  I hear turkeys can be pretty aggressive, so I was trying to play it cool without startling it or hurting it with my car.  I called my sister on the phone to see if she could get me the number for the zoo and offer some sage advice.  She just laughed and laughed, as did the few people who passed by in their cars.

I got out to shoo the turkey out of the street.  Boy, he loved that game!  Here I am chasing a turkey around my car in the middle of the street on a workday.  I finally got him off to the sidewalk, but by the time I made it back to my car, so had he.  This time I tried shooing him to the other side of the road (insert joke here).  Another car came up and the driver started to talk to me (all the while giggling about my new friend).  The turkey came toward the driver all puffed up, in what seemed like a protective maneuver, but clucking and waving my arms I got him across the street safely.  Of course I still had no idea what to do about him.  A truck from Metro Parks drove up so I thought he might be able to tell me about possible turkeys at the zoo, but he said he didn’t know of anything and drove off.  By this time the turkey had come back to his favorite spot, my car.  This time at the driver’s side wheel and bumper, still acting like he owned the car.  Finally a couple in a white van drove up and told me there was a family around the corner who had a pet turkey and figured my new best friend was the same bird.  This made me feel better – at least he wasn’t too far from home and a lost turkey.  Now I figured he’d be okay and I could leave.  Easier said than done. 

The turkey was still haunting my car, so we played chase one more time.  I thought maybe I could throw the car into reverse and escape, but he only followed, jogging alongside the car.  I thought I could honk the horn and startle him away, but he thought that was hilarious and let out a big gobble sound every time I did it.  I was starting to worry at this point.  I was going to spend my entire workday here, held hostage by a turkey.  I got out again and chased him onto the sidewalk, turned and ran back to my car, but by the time I was ready to shift gears and drive off, he was right back where he started.  Somehow I managed to lure him around to the driver’s side of the car, near the tire, but at least close enough that I could see exactly where he was.  I slowly rolled forward, with “Tom” jogging alongside.  Eventually I was able to get up more speed than he had, but he chased my car 3 blocks down the street.  As I looked back in my side mirror, I experienced both a surreal-horror-movie-feeling, as well as some pangs of guilt.  He looked so crestfallen when he finally stopped running in the middle of the street.  I almost went back.  Almost.

I’ve since heard that wild turkeys also live in Pt. Defiance Park, so maybe he lives there and I’ll see him again on my next trip.  When I got home I looked up turkeys in a book about animal symbolism.  The Native Americans saw turkeys as a symbol of the harvest and shared blessings.  I thought that it was especially appropriate for the time I’d spent at Franke Tobey Jones and the time I’ve spent in Tacoma.

Submitted by Meredith

For more (barely relevant) information see NPR: When Turkeys Attack