http://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/news...ing-Over-Hainesport-New-Jersey-160261145.html However, I would probably pay $5 to see a turkey chase a Goombah uttering profanities in their thick, speech impediment.
you wouldn't see this particular problem in the South Read Check...#4 shot...Check...6 dead turkey's....Check...Turkey frier...
It's not a north / south thing. It's city slicker vs country boy. they roam in to my yard around hunting time or start mischief I'm gonna be lighting up the smoker.
I know...I was just trying to stir up some $h!t. I've seen Canadian geese chase people in Atlanta....funniest thing you ever saw. Then, they act like the goose was crazy.
An old beater flea market 9 iron would work just fine also. If you get your swing right, it's a hole in one .....lol
I grossly underestimated the ability of a turkey to do harm until I dealt with a mean one. I don't smirk any longer when someone mentions a turkey attack. I bought a farm in west Texas several years ago, and the old guy who owned the place pointed to a big tom turkey in the poultry pen and said, "I can shoot him before I leave, or you can have him. The last time I went in the pen with him, he put me in the hospital." I tried not to smirk and said, "Oh just leave him alone, I'm sure we'll get along." For a few days, we did. Then one day, I was leaving the poultry pen and heard the pitter patter of really big feet. I turned just as the turkey left the ground, came up to face level, and swiped at me with his talons. I hurriedly backed to the gate before he could regroup for another attack, and picked up a hollow metal pole that was leaning against the fence. I caught him in the air, and the pole just bounced off of his wing feathers. I dodged his continued attack and we circled one another for a while. He started in again and I caught him in the head with that pole. It was a good swing, and his head just flopped over. He looked kind of funny, standing there with his head lying over to the side. I thought, "Well, I guess you won't try that again." Then, like something out of a zombie movie, the head snapped back up and he started at me again. I fought my way out of the pen, and considered what manner his demise would take. The problem was, he was so big that I was absolutely sure that he wouldn't fit in my oven, and I didn't know how old he was and how tough he would be; and it just went against the grain to kill an animal and throw him out in the field for the buzzards. So I let him live, and thought about it for a while. I was teaching Marine students at the time, and I would eventually tell my classes about this bird, which we had by this time corralled in his own enclosure. My Marine students, almost to a man, would inevitably brag that they would take him on. After class graduation, I would usually have a big party up at my farm for the class, and would introduce my Marines to the turkey. Even after a few beers, I could never convince one of them to enter the pen with him. When they approached the pen, he would drag his wing feathers along the fence, making a hideous popping noise, and throw himself at them through the wire. To a man, they decided that they didn't really want to wrestle a bird that big after all, and that drinking beer seemed like a much better way to spend the day. No, I don't smirk any longer when someone mentions a turkey attack. I reach to make sure I have a gun on me.
My cousin took 8 stitches from a turkey he pegged to the ground with an arrow. He let the turkey thrash about for a while. When he appeared pretty much spent my cousin climbed out of his stand, walked up cautiously and the turkey appeared dead. As he reached to grab the head the turkey came to full life and spurred my cousins' right shoulder and opened it right up. He got a hold of the turkey's neck and proceeded to spin the body around a half dozen times or so.
