It wasn’t supposed to happen quite like this. That is, I didn’t expect summer to streak by like a comet. Last I remember I was in an all-out effort to keep Wiley, the wild turkey, alive and on earth at least one more day.
I’m sorry to report to you that I kept him alive for only two more weeks, during which time he remained happy and relaxed in the company of Buddy, a tiny Spanish Black heritage poult I drove across three counties to acquire.
To my great sorrow, Wiley succumbed to his original cat bites. The antibiotics came too late. I found him nestled against Buddy one hot morning, still. I won’t embellish on the confusion of the next few days, as I scratched my head over what to do about Buddy. The little black baby with eye markings as dazzling as Cleopatra was suddenly and sadly alone. Read the rest of this entry »