When I Was a Turkey: Based on the Emmy Award-Winning PBS Documentary My Life as a Turkey
176
When I Was a Turkey: Based on the Emmy Award-Winning PBS Documentary My Life as a Turkey
176eBook
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Overview
When I Was a Turkey is a middle-grade adaptation of the remarkable true story of a naturalist who raised a flock of wild turkeys using imprinting.
After a local farmer left a bowl of wild turkey eggs on Joe Hutto’s front porch, his life was forever changed. Hutto incubated the eggs and waited for them to hatch. Deep in the wilds of Florida’s Flatlands, Hutto spent each day living as a turkey mother, taking on the full-time job of raising sixteen turkey chicks. For two years, Hutto dutifully cared for his family, roosting with them, taking them foraging, and immersing himself in their world. In return, they taught him how to see the world through their eyes. Here is the remarkable true story of a man with a singular gift to connect with nature.
A Christy Ottaviano Book
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781627793865 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Henry Holt and Co. (BYR) |
| Publication date: | 11/07/2017 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 176 |
| Sales rank: | 841,453 |
| Lexile: | 910L (what's this?) |
| File size: | 55 MB |
| Note: | This product may take a few minutes to download. |
| Age Range: | 9 - 14 Years |
About the Author
Joe Hutto is a nationally recognized naturalist and wildlife artist. He lives in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming. He is the award-winning author of Illumination in the Flatwoods, the book that inspired the documentary film My Life As a Turkey.
Brenda Z. Guiberson is the author of many books for children, including The Deadliest Creature in the World, Frog Song, Life in the Boreal Forest, Moon Bear, The Emperor Lays an Egg, and the bestselling Cactus Hotel. She lives near Seattle, Washington.
Brenda Z. Guiberson has written many books for children, including Cactus Hotel, Spoonbill Swamp, Moon Bear and Disasters. As a child, Brenda never thought she wanted to be a writer—her dreams tended more toward jungle explorer. She graduated from the University of Washington with degrees in English and Fine Art. She started thinking about writing for children when her son went to elementary school, and she volunteered in his class and in the school library. After taking exciting trips that involved a fifty-foot cactus, hungry alligators and sunset-colored spoonbills, she wanted to create books for children that would be like a field trip. Her books are full of well-researched detail, and Brenda sees this research as an adventure—one that allows her to be a jungle explorer at last. She lives in Seattle, Washington.
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Talking Turkey
ANIMALS EVERYWHERE!
As a child, Joe Hutto had every kind of pet imaginable. His parents put linoleum on his bedroom floor and said he could keep almost any critter in his bedroom or outside as long as he kept it clean and well fed. The big rule was no poisonous snakes. Growing up in Florida Joe kept birds, mammals, and reptiles, and most of them slept with him in his bed. At one point he had a small bobcat, a seven-foot boa constrictor (not poisonous), and a gray squirrel all living peacefully in his room.
Joe always wanted to be around as many wild animals as possible. When he was twelve and alone in a misty forest, his whole body tingled when he called to a wild turkey and it snuck up close to him. As a college student, he studied with wildlife biologists. As an archaeologist, he examined animal bones and stomach contents. As a naturalist, he spent long hours in camouflage to learn about wild turkeys and wood ducks. As a wildlife artist, he drew beautiful details. As a trainer, he worked with dogs and horses. As a wrangler, he captured snakes for zoos. But with all his various activities, he rarely got to look at animals in the wild for more than a few minutes.
In 1991, Joe and his wife, Claudia, a teacher in the local gifted program, were living in an old house on a Florida plantation. Tractor drivers there were preparing a swampy area for better quail habitat. They had a hard time seeing into the tall plants on the ground, and they were unintentionally disrupting wild turkey hens on their nests and destroying eggs.
Joe saw an incredible opportunity if he could get some of those eggs. He asked the tractor drivers to bring him any they might save.
Joe had unusual plans for these eggs. He was eager to explore the mystery of what it means to be wild, to see if he could find a window into the secret life of these turkeys. He wanted the new hatchlings to imprint on him, to regard him as their real "mother," since no hen would be around to care for them. He had tried imprinting before with wood ducks and other creatures, but now it seemed like he had an incredible opportunity to get very close to wild turkeys and learn more about them.
He didn't expect to get any eggs, but still he waited and checked and waited some more.
EGGS DELIVERED
On May 3, a stainless-steel bowl showed up on Joe's doorstep. It was full of wild-turkey eggs. They were bigger than chicken eggs, smooth and bone-colored with small brown flecks. Suddenly Joe was a wild-turkey parent, and the 16 eggs before him needed focused attention.
With no hen to gather them close, the eggs were already getting cold. All tasks of incubation and protection now belonged to Joe. Could he do it? Could he be the "mother"? And what would that mean?
Joe acted quickly. For warmth, he rushed them to the top of a hot-water heater and covered them with towels. He added a bit of water so they wouldn't get too dry. Then he raced to a neighbor's house to borrow an incubator. He also got some advice. Keep the eggs at 99.5°F with the humidity at 85 percent. Mark each egg with a small dot and turn it twice a day. Otherwise the yolk will stick to the inside of the shell and the embryo will die.
Joe worked hard for hours. He lined the incubator and the shelf it was on with towels. The rough towel texture would be better than a smooth surface to keep the young hatchlings, called poults, from slipping when they walked. A fall could permanently damage their leg tendons, and they would never be able to stand. This condition is called "spraddle leg."
Then he used a technique called "candling" to find out which eggs were fertile and would hatch. To do this, Joe observed each egg in front of a strong light. In 15 eggs, he could see a dark shape inside, which was the embryo. The 16th egg had no dark shape: It was infertile and contained no embryo.
About 1:00 A.M. the 15 fertile eggs finally were marked and laid out in neat rows in the warm incubator. They were in a storage room with no windows, so Joe used a fan to keep the air circulating. He was exhausted but so excited too. Right in front of him he had wild turkey eggs and a rare chance to really connect with them.
EGGSITTING
The next day, Joe stared in wonder at the beautiful eggs, in awe of the potential inside each one. He knew that turkey eggs hatch after 25 days, but he didn't know exactly how old these were. They were filled with embryos developing cell by cell, step by step, into a mystery he had always wanted to explore: wildness. The wild turkey. As the responsible and caring eggsitter, he found himself spending hours at a time with them. But he wondered, was he doing everything right? How many would survive? What would they need? And would he be ready?
When he could tear himself away from the eggs, he bought a waterer and a 50-pound bag of turkey "starter" feed that was a nutritious mix of vitamins, minerals, and protein. He also picked up two Rhode Island Red chickens. Somewhere he had heard that chickens should be around to teach new turkeys to peck. But Joe felt that this was an insult to wild turkeys everywhere. Did they really need to be taught this behavior?
Two days later, an embryo died. He detected a smell of sulfur when he came into the room. He felt terrible and worried about the 14 remaining eggs. Were they healthy enough? He hoped that at least a few would hatch so that he could live in the world of wild creatures from the very beginning.
DOUBLE DUTY ON EGGS
On May 7, Joe got a second delivery of 14 more eggs from a different nest. The driver reported that unfortunately the hen had been killed by the mower, and at least one egg had been broken with a well-formed young turkey inside. Some eggs were stained with splotches of blood, which needed to be removed immediately so the eggs could breathe.
Joe didn't take time to candle this new batch by observing their developemental stage in front of a bright light but cleaned and marked each egg with a small dot. He placed them all on a separate rack in the incubator, where they could be safe and warm with the other eggs.
In his notes, he referred to the first group as clutch #1 and this new group that seemed more developed as clutch #2.
Now he was a busy, busy parent of 28 eggs. Twice a day he turned each one. He observed, listened, and sniffed. Taking only brief periods for eating and sleeping, he stayed with them as much as possible. But he didn't stay quietly.
TALKING TURKEY
Joe could imitate sounds with his voice that wild turkeys make. While the little chicks grew inside the shells, he spoke to them in both "Turkey" and English. He was a bit embarrassed and did this secretly when no one was around. He felt the eggs from the advanced clutch #2 were definitely listening, and soon he was talking quietly every hour or two. He purred, trilled, putt-putted, and spoke English to let them get used to his voice. The poults responded to him with peep peep peep! This back-and-forth gave the growing chicks an early introduction to Joe, just as they would have heard a wild turkey hen and learned to recognize her voice.
As he purred and trilled, Joe wondered if the turkeys would ever hatch. And when should he stop turning the eggs? After 25 days, the birds wouldn't need more rotation because they could turn themselves. Then they would start to "pip," or peck the first tiny hole in the shell. Turkeys have a special projection on their beak called an "egg tooth," which lasts a day or two, solely for this purpose. They also have a temporary hatching muscle on the back of their head that helps them bang the egg tooth against the inside of the shell.
Joe didn't know when day 25 would arrive but the growing turkeys did. Wild turkeys have been around for 20 million years and the chicks had the wisdom of the ages to know when to pip.
PIP, CRACK, HATCH!
On Friday, May 10, a tiny hole the size of a pinhead appeared on an egg in clutch #2. The first chick had pipped! Joe turned off the fan and gently talked in Turkey and English. For the first time he could hear faint kee kee kees coming from the eggs. Were they talking to him? He yelped and again heard a mumbled response of kees. Back and forth, Joe yelped and listened to the wonderful faint chorus that answered. When they took a rest, Joe closed the incubator and restarted the fan. But he kept checking.
He waited and watched for three more hours. At last the first turkey to pip started to bite around the tiny hole. Using its egg tooth and extra head muscle, it chipped out a larger and larger crack in the shell. Joe cheered it on with turkey pep talks. The hardworking bird made more cracks, and more, and finally broke out of the shell. The whole chipping process took 55 minutes and the little poult emerged wet, weak, and wobbly.
Joe was so excited to see the first one that he hardly knew what to do. Finally he remembered to talk softly to the new arrival. He yelped softly like a hen.
The wobbly little turkey turned toward him. It looked him straight in the eye. It was an incredible moment, a newly hatched turkey staring intensely into the eye of the first living thing it saw. It was a magical look, one that could not be ignored.
Joe didn't know it yet but this look, and more like it, would take all of his attention for the next two years and change him for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER 2
Look Me in the Eye
THE POWER OF IMPRINTING
Joe held the first little poult close to his face. It purr purred, cuddled against his cheek, and seemed comfortable. When it fell asleep, he put it gently back into the incubator. Joe kept a close watch as two more eggs pipped from clutch #2.
Since there was no hatching activity he eventually turned out the light and went back to the house to go to bed. But how could he sleep? He worried about the poult that had hatched, the ones that had pipped, and all the others waiting for their moment in the incubator. He set the alarm and checked them several times during the night. He found more pipped eggs, but only from clutch #2. There was no activity in clutch #1.
As the sun rose on Saturday, May 11, Joe rushed back to the incubator. The yellow-and-brown hatchling from the day before was now fluffy and dry and very, very cute. When it saw Joe, it relaxed and stumbled right over to him. Since Joe was the first living thing it had seen and then looked him directly in the eye, the poult recognized and responded to Joe as its mother. This is the process called imprinting.
Imprinting is an unchangeable bond that happens with many creatures. It is especially strong in fowl like turkeys, chickens, quail, and pheasant. These types of birds are precocial, born with feathers, open eyes, and an ability to walk from the very first moments. They don't lie around in the nest waiting to be fed. They are up and about right away and must find a mother quickly to help them survive.
Joe, already a mother to one, was delighted to see two newly hatched wet turkeys and a third that was almost out of the shell. In the darkness, these poults had not yet seen any other living thing. Now if they lifted their droopy heads, they would see Joe. Would he then become their mother too?
Joe stood near the incubator and quietly yelped and purred. The three newcomers turned toward him, stared into his eyes, and stumbled across the towel in his direction. When they reached the edge of the shelf, he held all four in his hand. They cuddled against his cheek. They and Joe filled the room with soft trills and peeps until the poults fell asleep.
They were firmly imprinted on Joe. In this quick eye communication, he became their object of devotion. For Joe it was such a deep and intense connection that he could hardly describe it.
OUT OF THE INCUBATOR AND INTO THE BROODER
All day long, Joe was busy, busy, busy. He removed broken shell pieces from the incubator and replaced the dirty towels. He checked each egg and made sure every pip hole was turned to the top. The eggs with holes were all in clutch #2, although four eggs were still not active. None of the eggs in clutch #1 had yet pipped. He was getting more worried about them. Were they growing as they should?
He checked on the new poults. They were asleep in a downy pile. Through the afternoon, he watched six more turkeys break out of their shells, react to his voice, make eye contact, and stumble across the towel to him. The imprinting continued.
After about six hours, as the first hatchlings dried out, Joe decided to move them to a brooder. This was a box about 24 inches square and 18 inches high with a waterer and a 100-watt lamp to provide heat. Joe added a feeder filled with high-quality poultry feed. The poults also liked to peck at ants and chase any small insects that flew by.
As more and more poults dried out, they were transferred to the brooder. Joe kept his face very close to them, talking often and letting them get familiar with everything about him.
He noticed that they were uncomfortable with anything that passed overhead. He wondered if this could be a built-in warning for eagles, hawks, and other circling predators. He wanted to be able to pick up the poults without stress so he passed his hands back and forth above them until they got used to this action and ignored it.
All were healthy except one that was very weak. This one stayed in the incubator. On Sunday, May 12, the weak turkey died. Joe was upset and thought it might be an unfortunate defect. The others from clutch #2 continued to be strong, active, and vocal. Joe had managed to watch all the poults from clutch #2 hatch and imprint. There were, however, four eggs that still hadn't pipped.
When Joe sat on a cushion and talked with peeps and trills, the poults came near and stared at his eyes. It was very intense, as if he were the only thing in the room. Some liked to be held and fell asleep in his hand. Others found special places on his shirt, hat, or near his legs where they could snuggle. And a few were shy and did not come so close. He was starting to be able to tell them apart both by their looks — like a crooked toe — and their behavior.
In the brooder box, the warming light attracted insects, and the poults would chase them. The poults weren't very strong yet and sometimes fell down. Once in a while, they managed to catch something, shake it until it was dead, and then gulp it down. Some poults were aggressive and tried to steal. Others were learning good ways to protect what they had. All of them had great trust in Joe, a powerful connection that he felt was so rare and extraordinary. He could see it and feel it in their responses to him. Joe in turn had great respect and admiration for these wild hatchlings.
WHO NEEDS HELP?
Life as a wild turkey parent was getting rich and also very complicated. Always Joe was listening, feeling, and watching carefully to help him understand turkey behavior. Whenever possible, he quickly scribbled thoughts and observations into a daily journal. He wanted to figure out what they already knew. And he also wanted to figure out how much help he, the "mother," should or could provide.
One of the first things Joe noticed, much to his delight, was that the hatchlings could peck. They pecked even before they could walk. They pecked when there was no food. They pecked at dark things sitting on lighter material and light things sitting on dark material. They could see well and aimed their beaks at the object of their curiosity.
So the wild turkeys did not need any chickens around to show them how to peck — this was a myth. He made arrangements to give away his Rhode Island Reds. He was sure that wild turkeys were much smarter than people thought and now he hoped to learn just how smart they really were.
As he watched them explore, sip water, and eat new things, he saw a poult start to jerk and fall over. Joe thought it was probably ill from something it ate. He put it in the incubator and it soon recovered. That was a good way to help.
Joe had worked constantly for 24 hours while the first 10 poults hatched. He was there for the successful imprinting of each one, and now he was exhausted, having had little sleep for two long days.
But he still had worries about clutch #1. Although many had finally pipped, none were breaking out of the shell. Was the humidity wrong? Had they been in the incubator too long?
In the end he decided not to help. Instead he would wait and see what would happen.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "When I Was a Turkey"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Joe Hutto & Brenda Z. Guiberson.
Excerpted by permission of Henry Holt and Company.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE,
COPYRIGHT NOTICE,
DEDICATION,
FOREWORD,
CHAPTER 1: Talking Turkey,
CHAPTER 2: Look Me in the Eye,
CHAPTER 3: Eggsitter, Caregiver, Turkey Walker,
CHAPTER 4: No to Bright Blue and to Some of the Bugs,
CHAPTER 5: Welcome to Wren Nest,
CHAPTER 6: Head to Shoulders in Wild Turkeys,
CHAPTER 7: Personality Plus,
CHAPTER 8: Out of the Cage and Up to the Roost,
CHAPTER 9: Survival and Beyond,
CHAPTER 10: The Joy of New Discoveries,
CHAPTER 11: Part Wood, Part Mulch, and Part Feathers,
CHAPTER 12: Fly, Fly Away,
CHAPTER 13: Fowl Pox and a Playdate,
CHAPTER 14: Taking Off,
CHAPTER 15: Odds of Survival,
CHAPTER 16: Separation,
CHAPTER 17: Life Without Turkeys,
CHAPTER 18: The Tale of Turkey Boy,
GLOSSARY,
BIBLIOGRAPHY,
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS,
INDEX,
ABOUT THE AUTHORS,
COPYRIGHT,