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Creatures Are My Teachers

by Jay Rainey

Sex and the Single Turkey


Something has bothered me for over two decades, and I must clear it up publicly.


A rumour may have circulated 25 years ago that I pitch wild, passionate woo to turkeys. This scandalous story is untrue. Mostly.


To explain, I'll go back in time to the day I opened a box full of 4-day-old bantam chicks I had ordered. Towering over them was a turkey poult I had not ordered. The chicks were huddled under her like she was Mom.


Clementine and I bonded. She loved to nap with me in the sunshiny Teapot yard. She'd snuggle into the crook of my arm, stretch her neck over my shoulder, and doze off.


One day, I found her lying limp on her side. I stood her up, and she fell over. I spread her wings to look for injuries, and ruffled through her feathers in search of wounds. Suddenly, she stood, fluffed up, and ran off.


This happened again the next day. I checked her over like before. When the exam was finished, she jumped up, fluffed, and took off.


Eventually, I clued in. Clementine had reached sexual maturity and became depressed when it was time to get laid. She decided my examinations were good enough.


Once each day, she would go into the throws of sex starvation. I'd grab her neck feathers roughly like a tom would, put my hand on her back, and pushed her up and down until she was satisfied.


One day, Clementine was doing her woe-is-me thing by the hedge at the teapot corner. I performed my duty, saying emphatically, "Oh, baby, baby, oh baby, you know how I like it."


On the other side of the shrubbery and fence, a tentative voice said, "Jay?"


I was horrified. Whoever it was knew me. I pictured what he might think. And which local did he imagine I was with?            


I called through the shrubbery, "It's not what you think. It's just a turkey."


There was a pause. He said, "Oh," and walked away.

I never knew who it was.


Looking back, I see how my wording could have been misinterpreted. If the fellow did not flee the island after this incident, he might still be among us, with an opinion of me I'd like to change. I assure you, sir, that I do not pitch wild, passionate woo to turkeys. I only fake it.

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