General Warren Price

I’ve been a bloggin’ dog since I was a pup and like to write about stuff I see, hear and think about. Between Pop, the Missus and all the other critters around here, there is usually something that prompts me to rant, reflect or ponder. So, it occurred to me that with all the craziness of this past year I’m just gonna get an early start on the new one by sharing some of the good stuff I’ve observed around the ranch.
One of the fowl additions from this Spring was my new buddy Warren. His official name is General Warren Price. I’ll explain to you how Pop came to dub him that in a minute. But first, the back story on ol’ Warren. The folks have some friends from church who got their kids some chicks around Easter time. Three chicks to be exact. They wanted to raise some backyard chickens just for fun and to get an egg now and then. They couldn’t help noticing that this one chick they bought and named Duck was growing way bigger than the other two and quickly deduced that Duck wasn’t no chicken. Nope, the chicken they bought and named Duck was, in fact, a turkey. There’s an ordinance in town that says it’s okay to have a few chickens but, apparently, no turkeys allowed. That bein’ the case, the family asked around to find a good home for ol’ Duck and Pop, bein’ the turkey lover that he is, quickly said sure, we’ll take him. Those kids had loved on Duck since they brought him home and he was used to bein’ around folks. What he wasn’t used to was bigger birds like our hens and their silly pecking order. So when little Warren came to live with us Pop and the Missus kept him in the house until he got big enough to hold his own out at the barn. He’d usually hop up on the back of Pop’s recliner and fall asleep in the evening. When the Missus was ready, she’d scoop him up and put him in my old dog crate in the bedroom for the night. It didn’t take long until he was ready to sleep in with the chickens and he adapted pretty fast to life at the barn. Even our two big peafowl, Cocky & Sweet Pea, took a shine to him.
Now about his new name. Pop had an old buddy and the two of them went turkey huntin’ together at least once every year for a long time. Pop says his buddy, Warren Price, was about the best turkey hunter he ever saw.
They eventually scored a World Slam of North American Wild Turkeys (whatever that is) together. Both were Delta Air Lines pilots, Naval Aviators, and even college football players (Warren was a quarterback at Virginia Tech) so they had a lot in common. I reckon that I’m indirectly beholdin’ to Warren because when Pop met his Labradog, Boss, he was hooked on the breed and was able to get one of Boss’ relatives, my predecessor, Angus. Anyway, Pop figured his buddy (who is now in heaven) would get a real hoot out of him havin’ a turkey for a pet so our Warren was named in Pop’s buddy’s honor. The General part is his honorary rank around the barn because, as Pop says, he’s large and in charge. And he is large, too. Warren’s whatcha call a broad breasted bronze and will eventually go around 40 pounds. He really is a nice fella and everybody at the barn likes him. He roosts with the hens in the henhouse at night but also hangs out with our rooster and peacock when the boys get booted from the girl’s hen parties. Like me, he usually shadows Pop and the missus when they’re doin’ stuff around the barn. He cracks Pop up when they yelp back and forth at each other and Pop says it ought to be interesting this Spring when he learns to gobble. Maybe he and Cocky will have a struttin’ contest.
Just for the record, ol’ Warren will be safe and sound here at Rocky Creek next Thursday. Like the rest of us he, too, will have at least one really good reason for being thankful.