Ah’m your Huckleberry (1/28/05)

As you see, Ken Gors of Kootenai enjoys hunting turkey. He shoots ‘em and smokes ‘em — that is, all but the one wife, Cis , cooked for dinner one day. Wild? Store-bought? What’s the dif? she thought. After all, she’s a whiz with elk and deer. Well, wild turkey ain’t deer. Sis: “I felt like a dog fighting a piece of old meat. It made jerky seem like tender vittles.” Ken admitted it was “a little tough.” About that time, a friend who’d been helping Ken paint his ‘60 Studebaker rig dropped by. On his way out the door, Ken muttered something about inviting the man to stay for dinner, which set Cis in motion. No way she was going to allow the man to taste that turkey. It went into the trash. And leftover meatloaf greeted Ken when he returned alone. Holding her breath, Cis told Ken what she did. He laughed and dug into the meatloaf. “And that, Dave,” sez Cis, “is why I love this man.” Guess the preacher meant tough turkey when he asked: for better or worse?