Attack of the Wild Turkey

On Sunday afternoon, January 19, I was scoping waterfowl at Lake Bloomington. I saw six Common Mergansers, a Ruddy Duck, a Lesser Scaup, and a few Mallards in addition to the multitudes of Canada Geese, but my distance and position in relation to the sun was making it difficult for me to get good looks and to identify some of the other ducks from the park by the dam. I decided to drive into the adjoining neighborhood and see if there was a better vantage point between houses, hoping I might be able to see something different from the road. As I pulled into Sunset Lane, I saw something different, but it was a fowl of a different sort--what at least appeared to be a Wild Turkey.



I thought the bird would see me and either scurry or fly away, but this turkey seemed oblivious of my presence and continued its casual approach in the direction of my car.







Suddenly, I realized that the bird did see me and wanted to get closer.



The next thing I knew, this turkey hen was standing next to my car, staring into my driver's side window like it wanted to ask me something.



Could this really be a Wild Turkey? Why would someone have a domesticated turkey in this neighborhood? Curious, I decided to get out my car and attempt to communicate with the bird. Little did I know, she was not as friendly and harmless as she looked. As I opened the car door to get out, she momentarily stepped away. It became obvious that she did not want me to pet her, yet she continued to approach me as if she wanted something.









Has someone been feeding her? Does she think I have food? Then I made a diplomatic error. I held out my hand to see if someone had been feeding her. She pecked at my hand. Of course, there was nothing there for her to eat, and she suddenly became more aggressive. As I slowly backed away, she began to follow me, while squawking angrily. I recorded this on video.



When it finally dawned on me that she was seriously upset, I turned to get in my car. No sooner than I had turned around, the hen had jumped in the air and charged at my leg with her bill. I felt the power behind her wings--the sudden jab of pain in my leg. I jumped in the car and closed the door. And there she was, standing by the window, looking at me again. She furiously pecked at my door. As I drove away, I could see her chasing me in the rearview mirror.



For a moment, I felt like I was at Jurassic Park being chased by a T-Rex. There is a definite resemblance to T-Rex. Check out the talons on this bird!





As I continued driving through the neighborhood still hoping for a better view of waterfowl, I saw a man standing in his driveway. I stopped to ask about the turkey. He asked me if I was hungry, and encouraged me to take the hen with me. He did not know where this bird had come from, but also believed someone had been feeding her. Apparently she had been tormenting the whole neighborhood by chasing people and their dogs. Dogs were afraid to go on walks, and even people would no longer leave their houses without a stick in hand.

On Tuesday, I thought it would be fun to show some of my clients the turkey on the way back from the doctor's office. I wondered if it might chase one of them, hoping we would all get a good laugh out of the visit. It did seem curious about them when we got out of the car, but it was very agreeable and friendly until it saw me standing at a distance taking pictures. Then suddenly it went into attack mode again, chasing me more aggressively than before. I managed to escape once again with my life, but the laugh was at my expense. I guess it served me right. The bird must have still been angry about the last tease. Did it hate me because I extended a hand with no food, or was it my camera or something else about me that it did not like. I don't think I will return again to find out. Jurassic Park is a dangerous place to visit.

Written and published on February 10, 2012