We'll Call Him Mack

This evening family and I went to the beach for a swim before dinner.  As we made drove down Farm Road on the way home my Other Half suddenly slammed on the breaks.

There, just to our left, was a mama turkey and two tiny turkey babies.  They couldn't have been more than a day old.  The little darling stumbled through the field, barely visible above the grass.

That's what my family saw.  What I saw was a lonely baby turkey squatting on the right side of the road. 

My Other Half gave him a wide berth and drove around him.  And then we waited for him to join his mama.  But he didn't join her.  He just stayed sitting on the side of the road peeping like a madman.  After a painfully long minute of his pitiful cries I finally walked over, picked him up, and placed him safely in the tall grass on the other side of the road.  At least he was closer to his family.  Then we stood by the car waiting for him to leave.

But he didn't leave.  And his mother didn't give a damn.  She kept on walking away with her two favorite babies.  Ignoring his cries for help.   

When it was more than obvious that she was just going to leave him there I asked the question we were all thinking: Can we keep him?

And so, of course, we did.  Baby Turkey rode with me in the front seat.  When we got home I busted out the baby chick gear we have from last year's baby guineas.  We got out the heat lamp and crunched up some chicken food for him to eat until I can make it to the feed store tomorrow.  We put Baby Turkey in an empty cardboard box and brought him inside until the baby coop- the rabbit hutch- was ready for him.

Lou wanted to name him Cinderella.  My Other Half is totally over the Princess names.  How about we name The Turkey something other than a Princess name?

Um... Ok. 

Well, how about Belle?

Princess name.

Oh I know! 

Aurora!

After a few unsuccessful attempts to steer her away from Princess names we realized we had the entire arsenal of names from the movie Cars- perfect!  How about Lightning?  Like Lightning McQueen?

Not good.  It should be a girl's name.

She did finally give in, though, when we suggested Mack.  Yay!  We'll call him Mack!  My Other Half is more than a little relieved we didn't name him Cinderella. 

Sure, he might actually be a she, I haven't read enough on turkeys yet to know if there's a way to tell before they get huge.  Oh well, it might actually be Maxine, but for now Turkey is officially Mack.

We had planned on keeping Mack inside for the night to keep an eye on him.  Odds are pretty good that there's a reason his mama didn't want him.  Turns out that day old baby turkeys (poults to be exact) can actually jump quite well.  Mack made his escape from the diaper box as we were putting Lou to bed.  My Other Half discovered him missing and there were a few minutes of frenzied searching- step lightly!- before I spied him frantically trying to leave through the door that goes to the furnace.

So, out to the coop with him.  He looked lonely so I made a bed out of a hand towel and gave him a small stuffed bear to snuggle with. 

And so, once again, the collection grows.  Although at least this time it wasn't, entirely, my fault. 

Oh, and by the way, does anyone have some spare baby turkeys to keep Mack company?

I'm kidding!

I think...