A Lighter View
Hunting for turkey
By K.E.H. Stagg

November 25, 2010

If the world were a logical place—which it obviously isn’t—then the opening of hunting season immediately following Thanksgiving would be for turkey. But it’s not. Wild turkeys are too stupid to come in out of the rain, so it isn’t all that much fun to hunt them; sort of like shooting fish in a barrel.

I know whereof I speak. Maybe five or six years ago, a hen and her three little turklets showed up in my back yard. They roosted on the play house handrail, and waddled up to the main house as if they expected handouts. The flock diminished daily, thanks, I’m sure, to the birds of prey circling overhead. Finally, nothing was left but a pile of feathers and a couple of bones to mark that the hen had ever existed. The babies probably got swallowed whole.

Which makes me wonder yet again, why do we eat turkey at Thanksgiving anyhow? Yes, I know that the survivors of that first winter in Jamestown are supposed to have eaten it, but in Merrye Olde England people used to eat roasted pigs’ heads at Christmas, and I’ve yet to hear anyone call out, “Boy, am I ever hungry for a roasted pig’s head!” Or, “Promise we’ll have roasted pig’s head for Christmas. It’s my favorite!” I’ve never heard anyone, anywhere—let alone in these United States—say such a thing, and don’t expect I ever will.

But I digress. Why turkey for Thanksgiving? Maybe it was a favorite with the Pilgrims because the turkeys were too dumb too run away from death by blunderbuss or arquebus (I’m not up on my ancient weapons, so am not terribly clear on which was in the 1620’s). Maybe they were just sick of eating shellfish, dandelion greens, and boiled corn mush so that turkey seemed a treat by comparison. Maybe they really would’ve preferred buffalo roast but weren’t able to catch one of the thundering herd. Who knows?

Why not turkey for Easter? Turkeys hatch from eggs, so it’s not like there’s a “season” when the young are born and then they’re finally ready for butchering at a later point. Really, turkey can be eaten at any time of the year, and is. Nor do I see that turkeys are a special symbol of thanks, unless it’s a case of: “Thank you, God, that I’m not a turkey!”

So those of you tromping off into the woods next Monday, watch out for the turkeys. Not all of them will be wearing feathers and gobbling; many will be wearing blaze orange and shooting at anything that moves. The rest of us will stay indoors where it’s warm, and wonder why we cooked such a large turkey this year. Leftovers, anyone?