.jpg)
Dear future dinners, I mean, human friends,
My name is Cathartes aura. There are many who call me Turkey Vulture. Some call me buzzard, but they are confusing me with these fellows, who clearly hold none of my charm or appeal. I am visiting the aquarium to write to you, with the help of Giant Pacific Octopus, to clear the misconceptions you seem to hold about me. I am not an evil bird, nor am I a harbinger of death. Hear me out and you will see the kind, bodily-fluid-spouting gentlebird I really am.
It is true, I feast upon the recently deceased, tearing at their carcasses for the tenderest meat. In fact, the name vulture means tearer.
But this is no reason to fear me. I do not kill the living; I merely fly low to the ground using my excellent vision and even better sense of smell to locate pungent, delicious carcasses. Though if it is my cousin (and frenemy) Black Vulture who creates those carcasses, it would certainly be rude not to partake.
I am, by nature, a social fellow. I live in a venue, roosting in dead trees in open areas. We are a kind, gregarious community who migrate together on rising thermals, flying so gracefully with barely a flap. We rise together into the sky in a swirling black kettle, like an ominous vortex of . . . friendliness, which is completely not frightening in any way.
Perhaps you thought we were circling you until you die? The thought, I assure you, never crossed my mind.
You may fear that I carry disease due to the succulent carrion I feast upon. Kind human, you may put your fears to rest, for I frequently bask in the sun, partaking in the classic horaltic pose, to warm myself and to help bake away any lingering bacteria.
.jpg) |
| By Bob Peterson [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
My dapper bald red head serves another purpose beyond being both nonthreatening and handsome: I can plunge it into a body cavity of a fresh meal without fear of the aftermath sticking to my face.
 |
By Dori [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia
Commons
|
Lest your fears be not abated, know that my digestive tract kills most bacteria, so after I step in a carcass I simply relive myself upon my legs, whereupon they are sanitized. As I told you, I am a true gentlebird.
Like you, milquetoast humans, I become afraid at times. I have few predators, but if I am attacked, I do not let my fear get the better of me; I take action and vomit upon my attacker. This will distract them, sting their eyes, and lighten my belly for a rapid escape. And escape I must, for if you are a vulture, no one can hear you scream (because we lack a syrinx and can only grunt and hiss).
Finally, dear inedible friends, I do hope you may no longer fear my handsome face and innocuous flight pattern. I hope for nothing more than to provide a valuable and kind service by removing succulent, delicious carcasses from your yards and roads . . . and to feast upon your juicy flesh the moment your last breath escapes you.
 |
| Sleep well, dear friend |
Learn more about me
Here are some tasty resources on Turkey Vultures and other American Vultures:
