Poultry in motion: Wild turkey invades Waccabuc home

WACCABUC, N.Y. - In mid-February, my wife and daughter were away for a few days, leaving me home alone with our poodle, hamster and two bunnies. It was peaceful. Quiet. Predictable.

Until it wasn’t.

While making breakfast, I heard what can only be described as the end of the world upstairs — crashing, banging and what sounded like furniture being hurled across the room. I sprinted up the stairs, certain the roof had collapsed under the weight of snow and ice.

Instead, I found a three-foot-wide hole in our bedroom window, glass everywhere, a lamp on the floor — and a 50-pound wild turkey flapping violently in the corner.

I stood there stunned by the surreal scene. We’ve seen dozens of turkeys in our yard before, but in the bedroom? Never.

The bird was enormous, indignant and clearly having a worse morning than I was. I retreated, grabbed a broom — which was the only tool I could think of at the moment — reopened the bedroom door and carefully herded the turkey toward the sliding door leading to the deck.

By some miracle, it worked. The turkey stepped outside. I slammed the door. We both took a moment.

Then I surveyed the damage. The room looked as if it had hosted a fight between a chandelier and a pillow factory. Glass shards ranged from dagger-sized to nearly invisible. Feathers drifted gently through the air.

After nearly two hours of sweeping, vacuuming and questioning our decision to move to the country, the room was mostly restored. A glass company later informed me, rather casually, that this “happens sometimes.” I’m still not sure that’s reassuring.

Once things settled down, I called my wife, who assumed I was joking. It took photographic evidence of the turkey-sized hole in our window to convince her otherwise.

The next day, a friend found tracks outside suggesting the turkey may have been fleeing a predator — possibly a bobcat — and had simply chosen our bedroom window as its emergency exit.

In hindsight, I was lucky. I wasn’t in bed when the window exploded. We have a sliding door, which saved me from explaining to 911 why there was poultry in the master suite. And I happened to be home, preventing what could have become a rampaging turkey destroying the house while searching for a way out.

It was, without question, the strangest houseguest we’ve ever had.

Errol Antzis resides in Waccabuc and serves as the Treasurer of the Board of the Wolf Conservation Center.