My oldest son was my helper. He is very much a city boy and hates helping with this sort of thing. I'm using the word help very lightly in this scenario. I felt bad for the turkeys as it was cold and they very getting a bit riled up and I had hatched and raised them all. After tackling them gently so that they don't get injured my sympathy waned. Yes, it actually did. I don't know what that means psychologically but they were loaded into crates with small openings. Unlike the chicken cages, these ones don't latch. So, we had to put something on the tops to prevent a head from sticking out from time to time. Baling twine is a tool around here, so we tied the lids with that.
After this is where I needed son most as we had to load the crates into the back of the truck. I had put feed bags down as there was a few inches of snow back there. We loaded, my back screaming after the mornings' events and I realized I need to cover the turkeys as it was frightfully cold and it gets colder while driving them... off I go to find .. what exactly? All my tarps are in use. The dog's blanket needed a wash so, the turkeys arrived styling for the inspector.
Not sure if I will be doing turkeys next year...selling poults is easier, eggs too!
|These are the breeding trio-they are still with us. None of the females lived to slaughter day....|