Feb 14, 2018 3 min read

For the better part of this very cold and snowy winter, our turkey, Roger, has stayed in the top of our barn. It is actually quite smart on his part, as the barn is full of tons of loose hay and grain. And so, the barn has functioned as a den for the nearly hibernating turkey. I have missed hearing his conversation, which sounds like a cross between purring and growling coming from deep in his throat.

With the warmer weather last week, I noticed that he had begun venturing out into the barnyard to strut and coo. (He was probably also stretching his legs from spending so much time lying down.) And then yesterday, when I got home from work, my son was at the back door with his quad and a load of firewood. As in the summer months last year, Roger was by his side. He walked back and forth with my son for each trip from the quad to the back door with the wood. He’s the puppiest nondog I’ve ever met.

And, if it’s possible, he is even more lovely than before. There is a golden iridescence to his feathers, and his months of inactivity have allowed him to plump up and fill out. His beard has curled some, so it still does not reach the ground, but it appears to be longer than it was last fall.

He also still seems to enjoy my company.

When I noticed that he was still at the back door last night, I took him a small bowl of snacks. Then I stayed outside to rub his head and back for a couple minutes. His color changed, and he started that purring, growling thing. And when I stopped rubbing him, he took two steps toward me and bumped me with his chest. He continued to bump me until I rubbed his head again.

Finally, I went back inside. As I shut the door, I told him to go to the barn. However, like most of the animals on our property, he has his own mind. When I awoke this morning, I found him bedded down on the back landing. Apparently, he had slept right outside of our door. His iridescence was in full display, in part because all of his feathers were tinged with frost.

The moment the back door opened, he was on his feet and walking toward me in search of affection. Of course, I obliged with a moment of feather smoothing and neck rubbing. There may have even been a few whispers of love to hold him through the day. I have to admit that I missed the big guy all winter (although his poop on my porch, not so much).

Perhaps more indicative of spring than the sleepy groundhog out east, Roger’s re-emergence suggests better tidings on the weather horizon. Prosperity Roger beats Punxsutawney Phil any day, wouldn’t you agree?

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.