No Cigar

Getting a picture of the tom turkeys is turning out to be an exercise in futility.  The Big Five were waiting for me again yesterday; two by the water pan and three scratching impatiently under the oak for breakfast.  They were all waiting for their little sweethearts to come out and play.  I can't seem to retrieve the cell phone photos from the email to this entry.  Close, but no cigar.

It will soon be hunting season.  I don't have to look at the calendar to know this.  Every evening I hear some hunter sighting in his/her rifle.  I also know because I am seeing more bucks in the yard.  They seem to know this is where they can call "King's X."  A spike and a forked horn were munching together on the last of the peaches the other night.  This camaraderie will last until they go into rut.  A few years back, it seemed the deer were taking revenge on the dogs in the neighborhood.  I personally know of five dogs that were gored during rutting season; two died of their injuries.  Goats and deer are of the same genus, with similar mating habits.  The does will start their estrus cycles when the nights turn cool, and both sexes of both species go a little nutty.  I find it so interesting that mating is timed in the fall so that the majority of the young are born in early spring, after the snows and during a time when food is plentiful for the nursing mothers.  Since I still have four milkers, I'm not planning to breed any of the girls this year, but if I were, now is when I'd start looking for a Rent-A-Buck.