I thought I had two pet turkeys.
Life never turns out as you expect it to.
The two turkeys that survived from the five we hatched out last year were both male. We were worried that they might fight, but January and February passed and everything was fine.
The large, darker tom was very friendly, he would follow us about. I thought they might make cute pets for the smallholding. I even posted a photo on Instagram about it – this might have been the beginning of my downfall.
Everything was fine and then on Friday there was a big fight. Our experience of fights between male turkeys is that they never end well.
People started complaining about the turkeys wandering around the campsite.
Then the big tom started pecking at children
The lighter one took to visiting our neighbour’s garden.
Something needed to be done.
So it was.
On Sunday we killed both turkeys.
Lots of lovely breast meat to poach and make into sandwiches for James; lots of delicious food for the dogs; and of course, the best offaly bits for me.
N.B. of course I told the kids about the fate of the turkeys on Friday at egg-collection – they were fascinated. On Saturday and Sunday they kept asking about the turkeys’ current status – alive or dead. Farm life isn’t sugar-coated here and the kids seem fine with it.
N.B. pan-fried super-fresh turkey liver; pan deglazed with balsamic vinegar, spoonful of home-made grape and currant jelly all served on rocket.
N.B. I will miss the turkeys
N.B. I don’t get people coming to a campsite that advertises itself as on a smallholding and then complaining about the animals ….. although obviously being pecked is a whole different kettle of fish.