We have a band of turkeys that hang out down the hill back behind our house. They roam during about 8 months out of the year, then park themselves during the other four months (winter) twice a day (typically) below the bird feeder my wife fills with regularity. The squirrels dump the seed for the turkeys to eat. Animal teamwork.
As an avid composting family, we save all leftover fruit and vegetable remnants, then put them outside in our composter. With winter descending on Wisconsin, snow falling regularly, I decided to modify that routine a bit and test market on the turkeys. What do they like? Will they eat an onion? Do they appreciate the subtleties of beets? Is a banana peel attractive to their senses? In fact, what senses do turkeys use? Do they sniff to forage? I don’t know and haven’t Googled to find out.
Instead, I test market to them the old-fashioned way. I toss things while they’re pecking away, and after their initial fear drives them off when something lands near them, their curiosity seems to get the best of them, and they return to stick their beaks into what’s laying on the ground.
My favorite toss out the back sliding door was an apple core last week. When you move before opening the door, they must see or sense this, and they quickly strut back into to the woods. If you want to throw something into their midst, you must move slowly and open the door quietly.
I succeeded with the apple core and gave it a high underhand toss, like pitching in a slow pitch softball game. Bonk. It came down on the back of the lead turkey and he leapt about three feet in the air. I slid the door shut and cracked up. Interestingly, one of his buddies grabbed the apple and took off.
This taught me that they’ll go for the apples, so I tried it again later in the week. Sure enough, I one-hopped it, and one of the turkeys saw it coming, caught it on the bounce and trotted off. Impressive. He must play second base on the team.
There were 17 turkeys in the flock two summers ago, and 15 this past year (three adults and 12 children). They’re all huge now and adult size since we’ve been fattening them up with our leftovers.
My wife tried peanut butter recently. This also passed the test market. The squirrels took to it first, but even they were hesitant the first day or two. Something clicked and one of the squirrels came over to check out the jar. This brought the rest of his buddies, then the turkeys followed a few days later, poking their beaks in it, then pulling it out, looking quite amusing with brown peanut butter beaks. But they ate it, so it was another successful test market.
I’ve thrown banana peels their way that now sit frozen on the turf. I guess they want the real banana.
They chow down on radish leaves, cauliflower, lettuce and carrot stubs. They don’t pounce on leftover bread, but it does disappear by the next day (maybe it’s them, maybe it’s the possums who eat it overnight).
Test marketing turkeys is a great winter pastime. You may find a second baseman fielding your leftovers or a comedian sticking peanut butter on his nose. Regardless of the leftover food you send their way, it raises the entertainment value of the outdoors when the snow is flying.
As an avid composting family, we save all leftover fruit and vegetable remnants, then put them outside in our composter. With winter descending on Wisconsin, snow falling regularly, I decided to modify that routine a bit and test market on the turkeys. What do they like? Will they eat an onion? Do they appreciate the subtleties of beets? Is a banana peel attractive to their senses? In fact, what senses do turkeys use? Do they sniff to forage? I don’t know and haven’t Googled to find out.
Instead, I test market to them the old-fashioned way. I toss things while they’re pecking away, and after their initial fear drives them off when something lands near them, their curiosity seems to get the best of them, and they return to stick their beaks into what’s laying on the ground.
My favorite toss out the back sliding door was an apple core last week. When you move before opening the door, they must see or sense this, and they quickly strut back into to the woods. If you want to throw something into their midst, you must move slowly and open the door quietly.
I succeeded with the apple core and gave it a high underhand toss, like pitching in a slow pitch softball game. Bonk. It came down on the back of the lead turkey and he leapt about three feet in the air. I slid the door shut and cracked up. Interestingly, one of his buddies grabbed the apple and took off.
This taught me that they’ll go for the apples, so I tried it again later in the week. Sure enough, I one-hopped it, and one of the turkeys saw it coming, caught it on the bounce and trotted off. Impressive. He must play second base on the team.
There were 17 turkeys in the flock two summers ago, and 15 this past year (three adults and 12 children). They’re all huge now and adult size since we’ve been fattening them up with our leftovers.
My wife tried peanut butter recently. This also passed the test market. The squirrels took to it first, but even they were hesitant the first day or two. Something clicked and one of the squirrels came over to check out the jar. This brought the rest of his buddies, then the turkeys followed a few days later, poking their beaks in it, then pulling it out, looking quite amusing with brown peanut butter beaks. But they ate it, so it was another successful test market.
I’ve thrown banana peels their way that now sit frozen on the turf. I guess they want the real banana.
They chow down on radish leaves, cauliflower, lettuce and carrot stubs. They don’t pounce on leftover bread, but it does disappear by the next day (maybe it’s them, maybe it’s the possums who eat it overnight).
Test marketing turkeys is a great winter pastime. You may find a second baseman fielding your leftovers or a comedian sticking peanut butter on his nose. Regardless of the leftover food you send their way, it raises the entertainment value of the outdoors when the snow is flying.