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The Great Tofurkey Hunt

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  • Angel
    The Great Tofurkey Hunt The air was crisp. The dawn was pink. November, or, as I call it, tofurkey hunting season, had arrived. I got all decked out in my
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 15, 2012
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      The Great Tofurkey Hunt


      The air was crisp. The dawn was pink. November, or, as I call it,
      tofurkey hunting season, had arrived. I got all decked out in my orange
      coveralls, slung my weapon to my shoulder, and trekked into the woods.
      Quivering with excitement over the huge tofurkey I already envisioned on
      my table, I set up a blind and took a deep breath, and made the tofurkey
      mating call. It's a cross between a gobble and a kitten's purr and not at
      all easy to perfect.
      And then I waited. And I waited. Squirrels leapt from limb to limb.
      Cardinals, hawks, and turkey buzzards flew by. The occasional cloud hid
      the sun from the bare trees. And still I waited. I made the call again.
      And there he was--all fat and sleek, his chest all puffed up with male
      pride. He was the biggest, most perfect tofubird I'd ever seen, big
      enough to serve at least twenty-five! I aimed. I held my breath and
      braced my arm. I squeezed the trigger. The shot went off. and so did he.
      That blasted creature was clean gone!
      I sought him out to the left then searched over my right shoulder. But
      all I saw were trees and rocks, the crispy leaves and undergrowth and, of
      course, the stupid weaving of my blind.
      And then I heard his piercing taunting from just above my head. Looking
      directly at me, the thing had perched on a branch of an oak and was
      screeching his triumph. But that thing didn't know whom he was trifling
      with! Oh, no, taunts do not dissuade me. My determination was steel.
      I slung my weapon back over my shoulder and made it halfway up that tree,
      the tofurkey laughing at me all the way. I was just within reach, maybe a
      yard away when, giggling, my dinner took off!
      He alit near a fir about fifty yards away. I decided that stealth was
      necessary. As he pecked the browning forest floor, I tiptoed ever so
      slowly, crunching like a deer, however carefully I stalked. But each time
      he looked up, I stopped stone still in my tracks and waited for him to be
      distracted again.
      By mid-afternoon, I was three yards from my prey. Once again, I found his
      head in my crosshairs. I squinted, held my breath, and braced my arms and
      squeezed the trigger. But before the gunshot sounded, that scoundrel had
      moved on, this time taking a leisurely stroll between the trees.
      This tofurkey had an attitude!
      He ran. So did I. He stopped. I did too. He flew just at eye level, as
      if daring me to follow. I pursued him with everything I had. I was so
      busy keeping up with his ziz-zag flying pattern that I failed to pay
      attention to my footfalls. I ran smack into a boulder and crashed to the
      ground spread-eagle, my weapon just beyond my reach. Pain shot through my
      leg, and I thought I'd broken it. I couldn't move. I couldn't even catch
      my breath.
      Indifferent, the tofurkey watched my suffering until my leg obeyed my
      command to bend. I crawled over to my rifle, hoisted myself back to my
      feet, and discovered that I could stand up on both legs. The tofurkey
      cocked his head then bent and pecked at the leaves.
      Muttering swear words that I'd rather not repeat, I retrieved my firearm,
      took careful aim again, and again watched as the cursed thing escaped.
      Screeching derision, it made great flying leaps from one tree branch to
      another. I threw my weapon down, making up my mind that I'd have to
      strangle him just to shut up the derision.
      I chased that tofubird until just before the twilight's mist shimmered in
      the last light. And then I did it! I grabbed him! I had him in my arms!
      But he was strong and slippery. He wrestled free of my grasp. Panting,
      massaging the stitch in my side, I watched him duck behind the trunk of an
      old maple.
      I took a step to the right to get around that tree. The creature took a
      step to his right too. I thought I'd ambush from the left, but he was
      just a step ahead. At last he strolled on to the neighboring pine.
      I threw a rock. He flew above it. I smashed the pine limbs with a stick.
      The stick shattered. The tofurkey giggled all the more. I made a lasso
      of a vine and tossed it over my head. The tofurkey made a flying leap up
      to the loop and clean through it before I could snatch him to the ground.
      Darkness seeped between the trees, merging with the forest shadows. I
      could no longer see, but that tofurkey sure could. With vision like a
      cat's, that thing followed me home, mocking my blindness as I slowly felt
      my way, jeering each time I slid one foot before the other to avoid the
      rabbit holes and the rocks.
      At the edge of the woods I shook my fist at the trees. "I shall return!"
      I hurled the threat into the black.
      But, of course, I won't go back. I'll just go to the supermarket. But as
      I serve the store-bought tofubird and cranberry relish and the kale and
      the beans and sweet potatoes, I'll brag about the great hunt, the work I
      had to do to triumph. Yes, I shall lie. But all my guests will be
      impressed.



      The air was crisp. The dawn was pink. November, or, as I call it,
      tofurkey hunting season, had arrived. I got all decked out in my orange
      coveralls, slung my weapon to my shoulder, and trekked into the woods.
      Quivering with excitement over the huge tofurkey I already envisioned on
      my table, I set up a blind and took a deep breath, and made the tofurkey
      mating call. It's a cross between a gobble and a kitten's purr and not at
      all easy to perfect.
      And then I waited. And I waited. Squirrels leapt from limb to limb.
      Cardinals, hawks, and turkey buzzards flew by. The occasional cloud hid
      the sun from the bare trees. And still I waited. I made the call again.
      And there he was--all fat and sleek, his chest all puffed up with male
      pride. He was the biggest, most perfect tofubird I'd ever seen, big
      enough to serve at least twenty-five! I aimed. I held my breath and
      braced my arm. I squeezed the trigger. The shot went off. and so did he.
      That blasted creature was clean gone!
      I sought him out to the left then searched over my right shoulder. But
      all I saw were trees and rocks, the crispy leaves and undergrowth and, of
      course, the stupid weaving of my blind.
      And then I heard his piercing taunting from just above my head. Looking
      directly at me, the thing had perched on a branch of an oak and was
      screeching his triumph. But that thing didn't know whom he was trifling
      with! Oh, no, taunts do not dissuade me. My determination was steel.
      I slung my weapon back over my shoulder and made it halfway up that tree,
      the tofurkey laughing at me all the way. I was just within reach, maybe a
      yard away when, giggling, my dinner took off!
      He alit near a fir about fifty yards away. I decided that stealth was
      necessary. As he pecked the browning forest floor, I tiptoed ever so
      slowly, crunching like a deer, however carefully I stalked. But each time
      he looked up, I stopped stone still in my tracks and waited for him to be
      distracted again.
      By mid-afternoon, I was three yards from my prey. Once again, I found his
      head in my crosshairs. I squinted, held my breath, and braced my arms and
      squeezed the trigger. But before the gunshot sounded, that scoundrel had
      moved on, this time taking a leisurely stroll between the trees.
      This tofurkey had an attitude!
      He ran. So did I. He stopped. I did too. He flew just at eye level, as
      if daring me to follow. I pursued him with everything I had. I was so
      busy keeping up with his ziz-zag flying pattern that I failed to pay
      attention to my footfalls. I ran smack into a boulder and crashed to the
      ground spread-eagle, my weapon just beyond my reach. Pain shot through my
      leg, and I thought I'd broken it. I couldn't move. I couldn't even catch
      my breath.
      Indifferent, the tofurkey watched my suffering until my leg obeyed my
      command to bend. I crawled over to my rifle, hoisted myself back to my
      feet, and discovered that I could stand up on both legs. The tofurkey
      cocked his head then bent and pecked at the leaves.
      Muttering swear words that I'd rather not repeat, I retrieved my firearm,
      took careful aim again, and again watched as the cursed thing escaped.
      Screeching derision, it made great flying leaps from one tree branch to
      another. I threw my weapon down, making up my mind that I'd have to
      strangle him just to shut up the derision.
      I chased that tofubird until just before the twilight's mist shimmered in
      the last light. And then I did it! I grabbed him! I had him in my arms!
      But he was strong and slippery. He wrestled free of my grasp. Panting,
      massaging the stitch in my side, I watched him duck behind the trunk of an
      old maple.
      I took a step to the right to get around that tree. The creature took a
      step to his right too. I thought I'd ambush from the left, but he was
      just a step ahead. At last he strolled on to the neighboring pine.
      I threw a rock. He flew above it. I smashed the pine limbs with a stick.
      The stick shattered. The tofurkey giggled all the more. I made a lasso
      of a vine and tossed it over my head. The tofurkey made a flying leap up
      to the loop and clean through it before I could snatch him to the ground.
      Darkness seeped between the trees, merging with the forest shadows. I
      could no longer see, but that tofurkey sure could. With vision like a
      cat's, that thing followed me home, mocking my blindness as I slowly felt
      my way, jeering each time I slid one foot before the other to avoid the
      rabbit holes and the rocks.
      At the edge of the woods I shook my fist at the trees. "I shall return!"
      I hurled the threat into the black.
      But, of course, I won't go back. I'll just go to the supermarket. But as
      I serve the store-bought tofubird and cranberry relish and the kale and
      the beans and sweet potatoes, I'll brag about the great hunt, the work I
      had to do to triumph. Yes, I shall lie. But all my guests will be
      impressed.
      Vila SpiderHawk
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