“Yes, please.”

Sixty poults were for us, and 20 were for Charleen Dubie. I anticipated the phone call Tuesday morning. The email from Townline, the hatchery I ordered them from in Zeeland, made note that tracking information isn’t truly reliable, “Despite the tracking info, anticipate delivery of the shipment anywhere from two to five days after your shipment notice.”

Experience in earlier years of this turkey-raising project was that they were put in the mail on Monday and would arrive on Tuesday. But, things have changed with the postal service, so in the past couple years, poults arrived Wednesday. The first year that happened, I almost had a kitten, worrying about the baby turkeys’ well-being. When they did arrive, upon opening the box, I noticed that Townline prepared for the delivery delay, and had little green, moist tablets in each compartment so that the birds could nourish and hydrate themselves enroute.

Tuesday morning, just to check on a possible delivery in Alpena, I tried calling at 6:30 a.m. I got a recording.

Courtesy Photo A poult is seen up close at Mary and Mike Centala's farm, Heritage Acres.

At 9 a.m., when the office opened, Mike, my husband, called. He got a live person who checked. Nope. No turkey delivery. I remained available all morning, just in case there was some kind of error.

My phone rang at 5:25 a.m. Wednesday, “Hi! Is this Mary?”

“Good Morning,” I managed, in my most morning, I’m-ready-for-the-day voice.

“This is Jeff from the Alpena Post Office. I got orders to call you as soon as the truck arrived with your turkeys.”

“Yes! Thank you very much!”

Courtesy Photo Turkey poults are seen under heat lamps at Mary and Mike Centala's farm, Heritage Acres.

I got dressed, guzzled my coffee, grabbed my purse, and was off to town. Before I even backed out of our driveway, I cranked the heat up as high as it would go in the car, which is about 90 degrees, then put a blanket on the passenger seat in an attempt to prepare a level-ish surface for the packages to ride.

Oh what a beautiful July morning! In the back of my mind was the realization that the real commitment is just beginning.

When I got the turkeys home, I drove close to the coop, a shed that has been transformed into a brooder.

The brooder is set up with two brooder plates with adjustable legs and two hanging heat lamps with adjustable chains. Turkey poults need to have a brooder temperature of 95 to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Everything is adjusted to keep poults from crowding: three feeders and three waterers. The initial water has electrolytes mixed in it. Feeders contain 28% protein crumbles.

Not everyone uses electrolytes. The day after the poults arrived, I asked Charleen Dubie how hers faired the first 24 hours. That’s when she shared her recipe with me. Magic Water: 2 crushed fresh garlic cloves, 1/2 cup apple cider vinegar in a 2-quart jar topped off with warm water. She steeps it overnight. She says the garlic is a natural antibiotic, and the vinegar is the probiotic. Dang! I wish I would have thought to seek this recipe out before investing in powdered packets from the feed store.

Courtesy Photo Postal worker Jeff Bonafiglia loads a shipment of poults into Mary Centala's vehicle at the Alpena Post Office.

When I first removed each individual poult from the box, I dipped their beak in warm electrolyte water, and then into brooder room-temperature turkey starter. This was done with hopes that they would get an idea where their water and feed is. Once the boxes are empty, I watched the poults carefully. I was looking for any that may not be very energetic. Yep. There were two. I grabbed them and dipped their beaks back in the water. They drank water while I was holding them. Then I let them go and they stood there, drinking on their own.

Within minutes, I noticed two poults standing and not venturing around, remaining under the heat lamp. I grabbed the chain holding the suspended heat lamp to lift it so I could get a better look. The little buggers’ heads were stuck in the bulb guard grid of the lamp. I got them unstuck, and immediately raised the height of the lamp.

Whoops. The heat plates needed to be raised a tad. Poults need to be able to stand with their backs against the warm, temperature-controlled metal plate. We supplement heat in the brooder with heat lamps so there is warmth near the water and feed. Poults are content when they are evenly dispersed in the brooder, and not huddled when cold, or hugging the side walls when too hot. Summer temperatures sometimes warrant unplugging a lamp until evening hours.

While poults start off in a 100-degree brooder, each week of age allows the temperature to be decreased 5 degrees until poults are fully feathered. This usually takes six to eight weeks before they don’t need supplemental heat–weather dependent.

Close observation of turkeys continues until their last day. This is because they lack in the brain department. They find all different ways to die. We have learned that a cover must be put on the bin-fed feeders because young poults who are still light enough to fly may try to roost on the edge of the bin. We have had a couple die because poults piled into the feeder bin and crushed the ones underneath.

Mary Kelley Centala

Ninety-degree angles in the brooder are dangerous, because it allows poults to pile, crushing their brooder mates. We round out the corners with cardboard.

Part II of raising turkeys will be later this fall, when the turkeys have graduated from the brooder at our farm, to pasture at our son, Brian’s farm.

Mary Centala and her husband, Mike, own and operate Heritage Acres Farm in Wilson Township. Mary has a lifelong connection with agriculture and has journalism and broadcasting degrees from Alpena Community College and Central Michigan University. Contact her at heritageacres15@yahoo.com.