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I love the wild turkeys. Around here they come every morning when I feed the horses, to get some food. My Tom, a burbon red, had to hens that came over to his enclosure and drove him wild. He would do his dance for them. A man down the road sits on his front step and they come over to eat from his hand. By me they come right into the horse barn. A surveyor from the gas company was over marking for a gas pipe and had himself a ball calling my turkey.
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