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This weekend, I finally got more rabbit food. Our feed mill was having this big celebratory shin-dig since they were bringing in some really high-quality Purnia foods. But anyway, they were having a monstrous event. Tractors, 2 cows, a sheep, 4 goats, and 3 dogs. (They were having a petting zoo.)

But the kicker was the peeps. They were selling Cornish Rock crosses, Black Sex-links, and Golden Reds. I had $25 in my pocket… and I was very skittish. I had nothing for the birds to come home to, but man, did I want some chickens! I didn’t even care if they were Creepy Meats! (OFG made that up!)

I said no. I said no because if I brought another animal home before I had a fence on the hill, I would probably die. I valued my life, so I said no.

Then we went to Calico Creek, the other feed store. They had a wide selection of peeps, including turkey poults and Silver Laced Wyndottes. Why should I do the fancy thing with turkey poults? Well, even they would grow up to be the ugly white turkeys, my heart lurched to a stop. Turkeys. If I can’t hunt them, might as well grow some.

(Note: The turks were older, and already feathering out)

That twitch I get over my eye started. “Peter, Paul, and Mary,” I whispered as I gazed at the sleeping pile of poults. To stop myself from whipping out the dough and buying the whole lot, I practically ran over to the livestock supplies. I read labels, I checked out new rabbit feeders. I got distracted by all the peeping…

So I asked my Dad for his phone, to call mom. He gave me that all-knowing look, the look that says “I can’t give you the phone because if I pull anything out it’s my wallet for a passel of turkey poults.” He said no, but I knew what he meant.

I went home. I felt so utterly discouraged and unhappy, that I thought I was going to die. No turkey poults for me. I probably sulked on the way home, I was too busy thinking about the grand time I would have with my turkeys, Big Tom and Little Henny.

Yes, I already had names picked out.

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