Life of Helen
As it goes, today was Helen's day to meander freely on the land of goodness in West Virginia. Let's first understand who Helen was before she was Helen.
Helen was meant for Thanksgiving. She was purchased with about eight other chicks and "fed" for the table or egg laying. She is the lone survivor after the predators took all the rest in the middle of the night.
Thanksgiving came and went. Helen was still an unnamed turkey in a barn, being maintained with food and water until it was time. Or she was traded for some more egg-laying hens. The latter was more likely as her owner was not really into eating turkey. He had just not gotten around to trading her. His life was busy with his girlfriend (me!), work, and adventures.
I loved visiting this bird in the barn and started a fun chat with her on my visits. She'd let me pet her, "shrill" in delight, and always coo when she heard me coming.
A plan was devised to keep this bird from being on the dinner table. It was worth the effort, so I walked into the barn one morning, and a GRAND Ceremony (ok, a plot!) was hatched. I had to name this bird.
So I did. "I name THEE Helen!" She cooed and pooped right on the spot. From that moment onward, I called her Helen. Every visit since I announce myself walking up to the barn:
"Helen! Helen! How's My Helen? You are such a pretty girl! Let's get you some food and water.."
And thus, the "Save Helen" campaign began. Very covertly.
Seven months later, I finally let her out of the barn to follow me and do whatever turkeys do. She had a grand time following me, pecking the grass and cooing loudly. She was out all day long. If I disappeared in the house, she'd stand by the front door looking for me, on the side yard, or trying to look in a window.
I ran errands that day, and when I returned, she popped out from underneath an old Ford 150 to say, "Hey there! Where have you been?!"
Of course, I had to apologize and make amends. Eventually, even she grew tired of her adventures so it was time to return to the barn. However, she had other ideas. And it was NOT going back to the barn.
With that, a little advice from my guy, and ultimately help from the neighbors, we got her back to the barn with fresh straw, food, and water. She lasted about 5 minutes before zoning out on her new bedding from a day of adventures on the farm.
I don't know Helen's plans for her life, but I'll always call out her name when I come to the barn and tell her she's pretty! She's not really, but she's a turkey who is balding (she plucks out her feathers!) and quite overweight for her dainty face and sweet eyes. She's just Helen. She is living her best life at the moment. She's outfoxed the fox in the barn (or raccoon!) and is a survivor.
So the campaign goes on, "Save Helen!" I going to make a t-shirt with the saying. Why not? :)
