March 24, 2015
Clean your minds.
Despite the possibly evocative and misleading title (and of course it’s on purpose), I have not shot a turkey yet this season… quickly or otherwise. Nor have I observed any conjugating turkeys… quickly or otherwise. In fact, I haven’t even hunted yet. The birds are just now making their seasonal move into the area, and Saturday was a complete washout. Honestly, I prefer the rain we got to shooting a turkey.
But I had to post this quick little blurb, because there’s just something about sitting here in my office with the window open, scratching out a few calls on the box to a couple of distant toms, and having them appear a half hour later, searching intently for that lonesome hen who had, so recently, been yelping her lusty hunger across the canyon. The larger of the pair stood in my gate for a full two minutes, gobbling his ass off and then scanning to the left and right and all points in between to hear the lovelorn response. If I’d been on the porch with the pellet gun or the bow, he’d have been a fairly easy shot.
They’re so stupid this time of year.