Defiance In Unlikely Places
I would ensure his safety by catching him and placing him inside a hay-bedded dog crate inside the barn. There, even if he wasn't perching he would be safe from the storm and present for Thanksgiving Dinner, where he will be feeding nine people. I got the crate ready and then stalked him as he sat on a garbage can. I was going to grab him, confine him, and do it for his own damn good.
I thought I could catch him. I couldn't. I tried, chasing the black and white sub-emu around like an idiot as the wind howled and the horses watched in silent awe. He just ran into the woods, or flew up into the trees. After a few more long and exhausting tries I decided to let him take his fate into his own hands. Some times you need to just let the powers that be take your farm into their own hands. I gave up on the turkey when I heard the first tree in the woods fall.
This morning when I walked along the farm in the darkness, checking on horses and feeding them some breakfast hay I could not believe what I saw. There on the top of the garbage can (where I first saw him) was the turkey. He was dry, gobbling, and looked better than I did after a night of little sleep. I don't know if he spent the whole storm on the can or perched there after camping elsewhere but I know the barn and coop were locked up to keep the regulars safe. I shrugged and told him he was a mighty fine turkey. Maybe he was smart enough to dine on a salad of Maple, basil, and birch before Sandy hit shore? I'll never know.
But I do know this! On Thanksgiving we will not only taste my bourbon honey glaze, but something extra special—defiance. Which is what I finally decided to name him.