Sophie the turkey (Photo courtesy Katherine Dunn)
I was raking up dead leaves when I heard Puddles the goat say, “I can do the job for you.”
The young turkey hen, Sophie, looked the goat up and down but was not impressed.
“Sophie, believe me, he is not the one for you,” said Poetry, the oldest goat on the farm.
“Suit yourself, but you’re missing out on something extra ordinary,” said Puddles, puffing his chest, as he leaped off a rock and ran to the barn.
“Take it from an old lady, there are worse things in life than not having a mate. Like being with the wrong mate,” said Poetry.
“I don’t want a mate. I just want … to incorporate his talents for one brief night,” said the turkey.
“Sophie, I know your instincts are telling you to mate this time of year, but we can’t have turkey babies. What if they were all boys? That would be a real problem,” I said.
“Oh Lord, indeed!” said Poetry. “The last thing the world needs is more testosterone!”
“Amen!” said the wandering hens.
“What’s testonneroni? Is it like that good pasta?” asked little Hannah the goat who had just appeared.
“Test-tos-ter-one. It lives in boys and makes babies,” said Earnest the pig.
“How creepy,” said little Hannah.
Spring was in the air and that meant that the wild tom turkeys were wandering in the back woods with their ladies clucking and chirping. Sophie lived safely in the barn at night for protection, but during the day she lay in the sun near the barn, and would sometimes cluck back at her wild neighbors.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Sophie,” said Marcel, the old blind pony, as he grazed nearby. He and Sophie were good friends.
“It’s one of the beauties of aging, I’ve forgotten that tingling feeling I used to get when a roo walked by,” said old Poetry.
“Ah yes, the longing of the loins is what my grandfather used to call it,” said Earnest the pig who was out sun napping and heard the conversation.
I put my rake down and sat on the boulder to enjoy the sun with everyone.
“Mrs. Dunn, do your loins long for anything?” asked little Hannah.
“Just a comfy chair by the fire at night,” I chuckled. And Earnest and old Poetry chuckled.
“I don’t get it,” said Hannah.
“Someday, child, you will,” said Poetry.
We could all hear the wild turkeys in the far woods and we saw Sophie take notice, making a very quiet chirping sound in return.
“You know, Sophie, you can still lay eggs all by yourself. You don’t need a mate for that. Imagine, your body makes that beautiful orb all on its own,” said Earnest.
“That’s true. Its girl power, isn’t it?” Sophie asked proudly.
We all yelled out, “girl power!”
“So I can lay an egg too!” said little Hannah.
“Technically, you have eggs in you, but you can’t lay them,” said Earnest.
And with that, Hannah ran back to the barn, screaming the entire way, “I have eggs stuck inside me!”
(Katherine Dunn, of Apifera Farm in Bremen, is an artist and writer. Apifera, a nonprofit, takes in elderly and special-needs animals and shares them with elder people. Learn more at katherinedunn.us.)
