Moon Me

The Bluebird Hollow Domestic and Wildlife Rehabilitation Center sure is shaping up. I got home from work yesterday to find Mr. H and a baby wild turkey chick imprinting on each other. Apparently Moonshadow--that's the name Mr. H gave--was following so closely to the mower that it had to be turned off for fear he get sucked in there. Everywhere Mr. H went, Moonie followed. An hour later I found a one-day old turkey in a box on my freezer.

A very different vision of Wild Turkey than I had in my 20's.....

Mooner and his/her first apartment: we're in the process of upgrading.

Mr. H had already been researching online as to how to determine what kind of creature it was, how old it might be and how to care for it. Believe it or not, that's not an innate piece of information one automatically has. This was actually almost as difficult as figuring out how to feed and care for the goat and horses. Even though we had instructions regarding care for these animals, it still feels like you're floundering, worried that something will happen to them if you do the wrong thing. After all, they're not Chihuahuas; we've been able to successfully keep a whole sled dog team of those alive for ten years.

When in doubt, feed it dog food; it works for pretty much everything on our farm! Online sources say that in a pinch you can feed these little birds smashed up dog food because they need a lot of protein. Supposedly they need around 24% protein in their diet and we ended up with a chick starter feed of 18%: we'll still have to get creative with a mix. They like to eat hardboiled eggs too...cannibals (Moonshadow Lecter). But, before we ended up with what looks like Grape Nuts in a fifty-pound bag--did I mention the smallest bag of chick starter is fifty pounds--we gave Moonie lettuce and dog food.

Mooner didn't seem to eat or drink anything over the next two hours and all he would do is stand up and wobble. He wouldn't even lay down, but his eyes kept drooping. If it's possible to discern when a baby turkey is tired, this one looked exhausted. The distance alone that it would have traveled just to get to our backyard from wherever it left its mother was a huge distance for something just busting out of a shell. That's also how we could tell Moonshadow was between one and two days old: it still had its "hook" --egg tooth--on the top half of the beak. They use that pointy protrusion to escape from their egg and then they lose it after pecking around a bit.

By 9pm we were all ready for bed and Moonie looked like he was too, but the only way he would lay down and immediately fall asleep was to be in someone's hands.

Moonshadow imprinting on his/her father, Mr. H

Three hours later I wake up on the couch with a baby turkey in my hands, tucked into a blanket. That is a line from a story I thought I'd never have to tell! I figured Moonie had adequate rest to at least keep him alive overnight and I hoped that he would eat or drink while we slept.

Waking up the next morning I prayed I wouldn't come out to a roasted turkey: we had to use Mr. H's office lamp lying on a metal dog kennel door, resting on top of Moonie's box. Surprisingly, the Mooner was feisty and energetic, and had eaten all of the lettuce we left in the dining room section of his apartment. He'd also scratched through some of the dog food--a good sign. Turkey poults are supposed to be curious and that was in Moonie's best interest. We like to encourage our kids to try new foods even if they end up not liking them.

Well, I must go put Moonshadow of Bluebird Hollow down for a nap: he's been sitting in the "kangaroo pocket" of my sweatshirt and the Chihuahuas are very interested in the noises coming out of it.

THE END
(Mooner moons his first moon)