I once rescued an injured turkey in the middle of a winter road in upstate New York. Heading into the sleepy snowy town for supplies, I saw her sitting in the middle of the slushy road her head swaying back and forth. I pulled over and went to her, clucking softly all the while. Since she didn’t seem to mind me, I gathered her up and carefully placed her on the passenger seat. She sat calmly, wrapped in a blanket as I frantically drove, searching the area for an open vet’s office.
No such luck. After a while, she blinked at me and slowly lowered her head to her breast. I drove home in the gray dusk stroking her head and assuring her of a fine and noisy heaven, one filled with corn and open fields, with no traffic anywhere nearby.