My children are turkeys
I used to have three turkeys and a clutch of 15 pouts. Not anymore thanks to diligence of the Philippine Health Service. In their infinite wisdom they declared it was not sanitary to have the turkeys living on our property and we had to get rid of them. The tenets below us also had to get rid of their dog. You know how dirty they can be. The funny thing about this is that the mayor’s cousin lives down the street and he didn’t have to get rid of his turkeys. I guess chickens and pigs are ok because our neighbors still have those animals.
I think it was a politically motivated move by the barangay captain. A barangay is kind of like a neighborhood in the main city and a very small town in the rural areas. Kabankalan has 32 total and 10 that make up the city center. The captain is just the elected leader of this entity and he answers to an elected council. Anyway, it seems that in the last election the family we live with did not vote for the current captain so he has been out to punish them. Little things like visits from the health inspector and social security office to not putting lights on the road leading to our house. This is just what I know of though but I’m sure there are more instances I would think petty and get mad at but the Filipinos just accept it as fate and move on.
So my turkeys had to move to a farm. I guess the little ones are doing fine. I have not been to see them since they left. I have been too sad. The male, Whitey, committed suicide last month. He jumped from the top of the barn (which is a strange way to go if you can fly). I think he missed me gobbling to him every morning and giving him a bug squeeze before bed. My family thought I was insane. We got enough meat from him though to feed us for three days. He was nice and fat with all the corn I was stuffing down his little turkey neck. Everyone was happy about that.
That leaves the two females, Vixen and Ms. Fozzy, which I think might come home. Well, they will be staying with the Zayco’s turkeys, The Rasta Brothers, Mama Zayco and one I haven’t named yet. She really has no personality except she likes to eat a lot and is always gobbling outside my window in the morning waiting for food. As for the pouts- baby turkeys- they will be divided up as payment to the guy who has been looking after them. The Rasta Brothers will take good care of the girls when they come home. I’m sure they will get the prime roosting spot in the high rafters.
Maybe once we have the turkeys back we can get another chicken. Big Fat Baby Chick was the best pet we had here. He would follow us around and wait for food. He loved to be stroked on his back and would sit on our feet as we did it. That was his problem though. He was just too trusting and not scared of anything. So one day the dog came along and had a nice snack. No more Big Fat Baby Chick just a little fat puppy with feathers in his mouth.
