November 2005 | Points of Contact
Chloe the Lap Turkey
A Thanksgiving Love Story
by Ellie Laks
Chloe the turkey was rescued four years ago, just before Thanksgiving. Along with 299 other “domestic” turkeys, she’d been corraled in a junkyard for a corporate-sponsored turkey hunt. Animal activists put a stop to the hunt, but not before a number of the turkeys had been nabbed by employees. Two kindhearted women were persuaded to relinquish Chloe.
When we got Chloe, her toes and beak had been cut back; she was black with filth and had lost all trust in humans. Because of her physical trauma, it was difficult for her to walk.
Despite her history of abuse and her near-death experience, it took only a month before Chloe began climbing into our laps and falling asleep. Affectionate and gracious, she charmed us with her pretty black eyes and fuzzy pink head.
We took Chloe to World Fest to show people how wonderful turkeys are as pets. She was used to doing this kind of PR and settled down in the shade to take a nap while we set up our table about 100 feet from the stage.
Before long, the band started playing. Chloe perked right up and raced over to the stage as fast as a turkey can run, installed herself in front of the musicians and began swaying back and forth. We ushered her back, explaining that we had to stay with our booth. The minute we turned away, she darted to the stage again. After several attempts to keep her at our table, we finally gave up and joined her in front of the stage. Our beautiful turkey planted herself in the center among all the human dancers, her body swaying to the music, eyes half-closed as if in a blissful trance. She stayed in that spot until the concert was over, then waddled herself back to our booth and began doing her job charming visitors.
From that day on, we always put a radio in the barn for Chloe and often found her sitting right next to it, enjoying the music. Most of all, she liked to be sung to sleep, wrapped in the arms of our seven-year-old daughter.
Turkeys are genetically engineered to grow very big, very fast, and generally are slaughtered at 12 weeks. If allowed to live, their breasts grow huge, literally forcing their legs out of their sockets. Most turkeys live only about two years before their bodies start failing. We were blessed to have Chloe with us for almost four years.
When Chloe went to turkey heaven, we sang to her as she left her body, and as we whispered goodbye with tears streaming down our faces at the loss of such a good friend, a perfect rainbow appeared in the rainless sky.
In honor of Chloe and other rescued turkeys, The Gentle Barn will host its sixth annual vegan dinner on Thanksgiving, in celebration of life. Guests of honor will also include rescued horses, cows, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, dogs and a donkey.
Ellie Laks is Founder and Director of The Gentle Barn Foundation, a nonprofit organization in Santa Clarita that rescues animals from abuse, neglect and slaughter. The Gentle Barn, currently home to 65 animals, also teaches violence prevention to children. For (required) Thanksgiving reservations, tap into gentlebarn.org or call 661.252.2440.
LA has the bad rap of being a freeway city where we talk on cell phones behind tinted car windows. But hearts touch every day here, often in unexpected ways and places. Points of Contact is the antidote to urban living. Submissions welcome. E-mail: [click to e-mail].
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