I'm Not a Chicken, You're a Turkey

So there I am pulling up to the stoplight near my house to make a left turn and I notice a large Ford truck parked in the middle of the lane on the other side of the street. It was parked with the rear end at the corner where it had appeared to have made a right turn but stopped and the driver was gone but his door was open. People trying to turn right had to swing wide to keep from hitting him. The corner has a store and bank on the corner and there is a lot of open space where grass and trees are planted. As I stoppped at the turn signal I looked at the truck and noticed that it hadn't been in an accident and the passenger was still in the front seat. That's when I saw him. Picture a 40 year old balding, slightly overweight gentleman in a sweatshirt with a (You may want to sit down for this) bluetooth still in his ear. He was running around and flailing his arms on a grassy portion of the strip mall. Anyone who has seen the movie "Can't Buy Me Love" would recognize his dance as the African anteater ritual. He continued to bounce around, side to side, like a cowboy herding cats except that it wasn't a cat he was herding but a turkey. You see, I live in a city that is near the foothills and a lot of the area has creeks and large open parks, and because of this there is a large population of animals like fox, ducks and ducklings, and turkeys that roam the streets around the area. This went on for a good minute or two with this ass monkey running into the street a few times and almost getting hit by passing cars. I wasn't sure if he was trying to protect the bird, was looking for dinner, or just didn't realize that this is a common occurance here (I have never in five years seen a smashed turkey or duckling). Either way I will never get the picture of him out of my mind and I will never leave home without my camera.