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.