How I Almost Rescued a Wild Turkey
When nature and nurture collide, what are the casualties?
Two weeks before last Christmas, a coworker slipped on the icy sidewalk and broke her ankle. The same day, another coworker’s wife crashed her car in a ditch, several of my students were struggling with holiday-induced anxiety, and the only thing on NPR was people agreeing with each other about the Senate Intelligence Committee report claiming that the CIA’s interrogation techniques amounted to torture. As was typical for December in southern New Hampshire, there was no snow. Instead, an imperceptibly thin layer of ice seemed to highlight every barren and gnarled tree limb, discarded beer can or sandwich wrapper, and piece of abandoned lawn furniture. It was not a great day.
For a variety of reasons, I took a different route home from work that led me through an unfamiliar neighborhood. I don’t remember feeling particularly angry or sad, but with all the bad news of the day, I think it’s fair to say I was feeling a little bit down. I was driving slowly to both judge and admire the tacky holiday decorations when I suddenly had to veer closer to my side of the road as a hulking UPS truck came careening toward me from the opposite direction. After the truck had disappeared and I’d passed several more inflatable snowmen, I found myself squinting at several large…
