Years ago, Dear Wife had a little chihuahua. She let it out to go potty, then he started sniffing around. Spotted a bird, and went into defensive attack mode, chasing after the bird. I looked out a window when I heard this. Strutting out of the woods, across the cleared acre, and into the woods again, was a string of turkeys. Didn’t see the first turkeys, didn’t see the last turkeys, but I counted 52 turkeys. When the silly chihuahua realized he was so badly outnumbered, he turned tail, and ran yipping to the house. Dear Wife required me to leave the window, and let her beast back into the house.
For whatever reasons, I don’t hunt turkeys. Yeah, I could bag them year round, if I wanted, but I don’t mess with them. I don’t bother the squirrels, either. Maybe if I get hungry . . .
