Teri the turkey is no more.
We hadn’t seen her for a day or two and then Baxter found a fresh coyote kill behind the barn.
All that’s left are the feathers. The distinctive turkey wings give away the identity of the victim.
I can’t really be upset. The coyotes are doing what they’re supposed to be doing. If Teri was doing what she was supposed to be doing, she would have stayed roosted in her tree–or with her flock instead of with us.
Still, it’s obviously not what I was hoping for.