{"id":1840,"date":"2018-07-25T19:38:23","date_gmt":"2018-07-26T00:38:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/belovedlove.org\/reflections\/?p=1840"},"modified":"2019-05-17T13:11:46","modified_gmt":"2019-05-17T18:11:46","slug":"dead-turkey","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/belovedlove.org\/reflections\/2018\/07\/25\/dead-turkey\/","title":{"rendered":"A Dead Turkey"},"content":{"rendered":"

A Dead Turkey<\/h1>\n

by Lydia Floren<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>I\u2019ve never seen a dead turkey before.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Wait, I take that back. I\u2019ve seen hundreds of dead turkeys. In the grocery freezer section, right before Thanksgiving.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But, I\u2019ve never seen a dead turkey like this.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Sometime between morning chores and afternoon errands,\u00a0<\/span>this guy appeared on the edge of our lawn.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I walked up to him. halfway thinking he\u2019d\u00a0<\/span>get up and run off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Nope.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>I made some noise, nudged him with my toe.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Nothing.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Then, I noticed the flies buzzing around.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Hmmmm.\u00a0 <\/span>Maybe he wasn\u2019t just sleeping.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u00a0 <\/span>texted my husband.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I said, \u201cI think we have a dead turkey in our front yard.\u201d And then, \u201cI\u2019m not sure I\u2019ve ever said that sentence before.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sent him a picture.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>Although I am not sure, in retrospect, why he would want a picture of a dead turkey on his phone. (Sort of like the time someone texted me a picture of their kid\u2019s poop. There are some lines that just need to be drawn. And feces, and probably dead turkeys, are on the other side of those lines.)\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I went off to run my errands, hoping, though not terribly optimistic, that the big bird would wake up and move along while I was gone. Not sure what I would do if he didn\u2019t. Didn\u2019t really want a rotting turkey on the lawn.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When I got to the beauty shop and told my hairdresser about it, she suggested calling animal control, although I wasn’t sure why they would want him. \u00a0<\/span>He wasn\u2019t really a rabies risk. But maybe he had some strange disease that they were testing for.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When I got back home, the turkey was gone.<\/h4>\n

Wow.<\/p>\n

Maybe he was just napping. And woke up and wandered off.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I walked in the house and found my husband, Andrew, on the back porch. He was leaning on the rail with his B.B. pistol. On the lookout for crows and bunnies. (They eat my flowers.)\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDid you see the turkey?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you do something with him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cWhat did you do?\u201d (Surely he didn\u2019t put him in the trash can. The\u00a0 <\/span>trashmen didn\u2019t come for another week.)\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI got a shovel, picked him up, and threw him over the back fence, down the hill.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOver by that big tree on the right, about halfway down. If you walk over that way, you can see him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo thanks. I\u2019m good.<\/p>\n

Thank you very much for getting rid of him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You are my hero.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d rather be your hero than your dead turkey.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Do you have a dead turkey in your yard?\u00a0 <\/span>A disappointment? \u00a0A grudge? A sin you keep beating yourself up<\/a> for?\u00a0 <\/span>An offense, or wrong you need to apologize for? Don\u2019t wait around for it to vanish on its own. Do something about it. Take a shovel. Pick it up. And throw it out, so its rotting flesh doesn\u2019t stink up your life.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>And then move on.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Do not call to mind the former things. Or ponder things in the past.\u00a0 <\/span>Behold I will do something new. Will you not be aware of it?<\/a><\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A Dead Turkey by Lydia Floren \u00a0I\u2019ve never seen a dead turkey before.\u00a0 Wait, I take that back. I\u2019ve seen hundreds of dead turkeys. In the grocery freezer section, right before Thanksgiving.\u00a0 But, I\u2019ve never seen a dead turkey like this.\u00a0 \u00a0Sometime between morning chores and afternoon errands,\u00a0this guy appeared on the edge of our […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[465,43],"tags":[34,8],"class_list":["post-1840","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-finding-freedom","category-hope","tag-forgiveness","tag-hope-and-encouragement"],"yoast_head":"\nA Dead Turkey - Belovedlove<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/belovedlove.org\/reflections\/2018\/07\/25\/dead-turkey\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"A Dead Turkey - Belovedlove\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"A Dead Turkey by Lydia Floren \u00a0I\u2019ve never seen a dead turkey before.\u00a0 Wait, I take that back. 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