Well, when I went out to feed and do chores, poor ole Bob was on his back. We righted him, but he stumbles about and ends back on his back. As soon as it's late enough not to disturb people, hubby will shoot our poor old turkey. Bob would have been eight years old next month. He's the oldest guy on the place.
And with him gone, I will be selling all the rest of the turkeys. I only kept them for company for Bob. Perhaps a new start with a new breed is what I should try. Or just no turkeys at all.
I've known we'd be losing Bob this year, but I thought he'd have a bit more time. I'm sad. Toss a handful of scratch to your birds in memory of the best tom turkey ever! Bob has allowed a school group of fourth graders to line up and pet him, has played tag with the dogs and seemed to enjoy it, reaaallly enjoyed sneaking up on a sleeping dog and goosing him, and when he was younger would jump into my lap if I sat on a lawn chair outside. I'm gonna miss the old guy.