Here, Have A Fancy-Ass Turkey
As Americans prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving, a quick dive into turkey taxonomy and anatomy.
If you live in the United States, then you’re probably about to eat some turkey. Or at least be in a room full of people eating turkey. But unless you’re a hunter, you probably know very little about the birds.
For instance, did you know that turkeys are situated within the Pheasant Family? So are peacocks, chickens, grouse, and partridges, actually.
And there are two species of turkey alive today. The first is Meleagris gallopavo, or the wild turkey you’ve seen on a whiskey bottles and perhaps even scampering across your backyard.
Wild turkeys almost went extinct back there, due to us shooting the hell out of them and cutting down all the forests, but amazingly, this bird is back from the brink—and you can probably thank hunters for that, actually. (I wrote all about this for the NRDC a few years back. Check it out!)
Now, the turkeys most of us will consume on Thanksgiving are also M. gallopavo, but a domesticated version that has been selectively bred for larger, juicier breastmeat. And while that is great news for carefully-staged Instagram pics, it has also led to a bird that is so lop-sided in its anatomy, it can no longer fly.
To be clear, wild turkeys fly all the time. In fact, go shout ‘boo’ at the birds and the first thing they’ll do is shoot up into the treetops. This is also where wild turkeys sleep.
By the way, if flying turkeys is a new idea to you, then you might be of a certain age and probably getting your turkey knowledge from the infamous WKRP episode where the radio station puts on a Turkey Drop promotion. This episode taught a whole generation that if you throw turkeys out of a helicopter, they will hit the ground “like sacks of wet cement”. And that’s probably true—but only if the turkeys you’re dropping are domesticated.
The Fancy-Ass Ocellated Turkey
The second species of turkey is known as the ocellated turkey, or Meleagris ocellata. And boy is it a beaut.
Ocellated turkeys are found in Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula, as well as parts of Belize and Guatemala, and they look similar enough to regular turkeys in size and shape. But in color, ocellated turkeys have been Lisa Frank-ified.
While most of us will never get to see an ocellated turkey in the wild, the San Diego Zoo Safari Park happens to have a few of these gussied up birds, and they were kind enough to share some photos before Thanksgiving.
According to Amanda Martinez, senior public relations representative, “The word ‘ocellated’ comes from the Latin word ‘ocellus,’ meaning ‘little eye,’ and refers to eye-like circular markings found on animals. Ocellated turkeys will fan out their feathers during courtship displays to attract mates or assert dominance, making these circular markings visible. This behavior also intimidates rivals or deters predators by appearing larger in size.”
So it sounds like you can think of ocellated turkeys as kind of a cross between the vibes of a wild turkey and a peacock (which we now know turkeys are related to).
Snoods, Wattles, & Caruncles, Oh My!
One last thing I’ll leave you with, which goes for both wild turkeys and ocellated turkeys, is that these birds have some seriously weird head-gear going on.
First there’s the snood, which is a fleshy protuberance that attaches to the nose but can dangle to the side of the turkey’s face. Stranger still, this little glob of flesh can lengthen and shorten and even change color as it flushes with blood, which apparently is rather attractive to female turkeys. The snood may also help the birds vent heat and keep their bodies cool, so it’s not all for looks.
Below the chin, turkeys have a wattle, which is, you guessed it, another flippy-flappy skin thing that serves similar purposes to the snood, according to the National Audubon Society. Mind you, birds can’t sweat, so they have to get rid of heat in other ways.
And finally, there are caruncles, which look sort of like warts, but all over the turkey’s head. Which, yikes, but these are also apparently good for wooing female turkeys. (There’s no accounting for taste.)
Talking about snoods, wattles, and caruncles feels like you might as well be trying to explain a plumbus, but sexual selection and evolution are extremely weird processes that have, frankly, produced far more bizarre structures. Like, have you ever seen a hooded seal evert it’s blood-red nose balloon?
Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely holiday! And remember, if someone tries to bring up politics at dinner, you can always start firing off snood facts until everyone politely excuses themselves and you’re left with all the candied yams you can eat.
And here’s one more caruncle pin-up for the road. It’s a male ocellated, and he is smokin’.
