Mother Turkey

Last week on my way home from the gym, on 180th Street, a turkey ran across the road just before the car ahead of me. It is not uncommon to see turkeys in Nebraska suburbs, along the highways, or just hanging out in the recreation areas. This one bolted into the woods at Lake Zorinksy where I often run. The only thing I know about live turkeys (btw, my favorite meat) is that when you see one, his/her friends are not that far behind, and they can travel in rather large groups (called a "rafter"). I slowed down because it's a busy road, I had my kid in the car, and I really didn't want to be that person speeding up to make road kill. Sure, I may target and swerve at opossums, but not for wild turkeys.

Typically, I'm a bird hater, but I respect the turkey.

Just as I was approaching the exact spot where the first turkey crossed, a smaller turkey ran out. It was pretty cute for a turkey.

A few days later, I mentioned this experience to a friend. She looked sad and said that two turkey babies had been hit and killed in that very spot. She said the Mama Turkey was beside herself, frantically running back and forth to the dead babies, in the middle of traffic, completely devastated. We commented how we didn't realize how compassionate turkeys were, and agreed that it was a horribly sad thing to have witnessed.

Jump to today...

I step out my door with BOB and Taia and head toward Lake Zorinsky. Typically from door-to-door with a loop the West Lake, the total mileage is anywhere between 8.5-10 miles. Today I planned to do about nine. We run four miles before running into Denny. He takes BOB and Taia for a walk and tells me to meet them on the opposite side of the lake. Getting a chance to run solo seems like a liberating experience so I hand over the reigns and take off in the in the other direction. We meet again when Garmin reads 6 miles, and talk about our next meeting point, which is the lot that he parked his car. Somehow there is a miscommunication and I end up running back and forth repeatedly, looking for Denny, BOB and Taia, who I thought were right behind me. I am confusing other runners and walkers on the path - they see me with baby and stroller, they see me without, they see me pass them running in the opposite direction, and I pass them in the same direction (twice). All I want to do is find my baby! It appears to me that I am the frantic mother turkey looking for my baby and I start to freak out.

I finally stop. I collect my thoughts and begin to think logically. I look across the lake and I see them. They are tiny, about 3/4 of a mile away from me, and they're almost at the car! I take off sprinting to the lot, passing the same people, and compiling mileage. By the time I get to them, I have run 10 miles, and we still have 2.5 to make it home.

The point of this story is that I haven't ever felt that way about before. Even though I knew she was safe, shielded by the elements, and being cared for by Denny, I just couldn't help but to feel all wound up and frenzied not knowing exactly where she was.

Just as I didn't expect turkeys would have that tenderness and sensitivity towards their young, I too, surprised myself with my reaction to my offspring.

I'll keep my baby turkey close.

My turkey sleeping in the BOB