Turkey the Chicken

Here is what I wrote for this weeks CSA newsletter.

Turkey the Chicken

As soon as I arrived at the Wormfarm I was confused about my existence.  Farmer Kim said my name was to be Turkey but I was almost positive I was a chicken.  It was a cold, rainy May day when I was placed in my new coop.  I was to stay in the small area dedicated to the baby chicks with heat lamps, food and water.  But I was no longer a chick.  I was 1 month old and a giant compared to the others.  So I made sure to stomp on the babies’ heads as much as possible to put them in their place.

After my first few weeks at the Wormfarm, Kim picked me up against my will and took me outside for the very first time.  I was “a big girl now,” Kim said.  I was amazed by the wonder of the world around me.  The tall greens that surrounded me were edible and tasty and there were tiny bugs for me to search and devour with a gulp.  I would watch the older chickens with amazement, exploring so far from the coop that they looked like specks in the distance.  I could go wherever I chose.

As I got older my legs turned a deep golden yellow and little white feathers were growing on them.  I now had black feathers around my neck and the ones that were white started to change to blonde.  My black tail feathers shimmered green in the sunlight.  My ruby comb was growing.  I was a beautiful Brahma according to Kim.  She called me, “Turkey Girl.”

I recently turned 6 months old.  I was perched on a tree stump when Kim was walking by.  I suddenly had the urge to crow for the first time.  I wanted to crow like the older rooster but my voice cracked and it was an awkward, screechy “cock-a-doodle-doo.”  Kim stopped cold in her tracks.  She turned and looked me in the eyes and said “Turkey Girl…You’re a Turkey Boy?”