Our turkeys don’t know that they’re due to be slaughtered one month from today, and that’s probably a good thing. If I were going to die in exactly 31 days, I don’t think I’d want to know about it.
If, by some unhappy mischance, I did know about it, I would do my level best to enjoy the one upside: I’d eat anything I wanted.
Going into their last month, our turkeys are supposed to grow as much as possible, and we’re supposed to feed them stuff that A) makes them grow but also B) makes them taste good. The problem is, we’re not quite sure what that is.
Some people swear by finishing a turkey on corn, but our birds don’t seem to care for corn. The last thing we need in the turkey pen is a hunger strike, protesting unappetizing rations. The feed we give them is grower/finisher pellets, and it may be that we just continue with that, but I’d really like to find something that would pack on the pounds.
We weighed them today, and they’re definitely not yet table-ready. Drumstick, our alpha tom, is 17 pounds. Beta and Gamma, the two other males, are 14.5 pounds each. Edith, the lone hen, comes in at a mere 10.
Eat! Eat! I told them, after the weigh-in.
We’re trying to find ways to encourage them. We bought them a Flock Block, a twenty-five-pound cube of compressed seeds, nuts, minerals, and other poultry delicacies, but they seem lukewarm on it. They give it a few halfhearted pecks, but they don’t set on it with a will.
Kevin spread some corn on the ground in their pen, but they simply ignore it. Then he mixed some in with their feed, and they don’t seem to pick it out, but neither do they seem to step up their consumption.
I know it’s a drastic step, and I’ll do it only as a last resort, but I’m thinking of telling them they only have 31 days to live.