Timothy James is used to yielding to students while driving through Oakland.

But James,… Timothy James is used to yielding to students while driving through Oakland.

But James, a software engineer and graduate student, gave the right-of-way to a peculiar breed of pedestrians one October afternoon: three wild turkeys, flapping around at the corner of South Bouquet and Dawson streets.

“It was a very odd scene to see in the middle of Pittsburgh,” said James, who quickly snapped pictures of the mysterious birds.

He described the turkeys as “very friendly,” and was able to get fairly close to them before one, presumably camera-shy, flew away. He’d never seen them in the neighborhood, though he has heard of other sightings.

While James has no idea what the birds are doing in Oakland, he has his suspicions.

“Trying to take over the world,” he said. “Maybe escaping Thanksgiving dinner.”

Speculations abound as to where they came from and what, exactly, they’re doing here. But pictures and eyewitness accounts have confirmed the unlikely: wild turkeys have indeed made South Oakland their stomping ground.

Jim Dunster, curator of birds at the National Aviary in Pittsburgh, said seeing turkeys in the street is not that unbelievable, given Oakland’s proximity to Schenley Park.

“If there’s wooded areas nearby, there’ll probably be turkeys around,” he said.

Fred Butch, a parking attendant for Panther Hollow Parking, confirmed Dunster’s assumption. He said he sees the same three turkeys embarking on what appears to be a regular route: a walk that begins with their emergence from the woods behind his parking lot in the morning and ends with their disappearance down Boundary Street in the evening.

“Sometimes, in the evening, they’ll just march down the road,” he said, indicating their direction from inside his small booth.

Butch added that one of the birds appeared to have “a bum leg.”

“I think it’s a mom, a dad and a baby,” he speculated.

Bob Scheible, a lifelong resident of South Oakland, has been seeing the turkeys frequently since the summer, most recently while walking his kids to school. Along with other neighbors, he regards the turkeys’ routine appearances with respect and wonderment.

“Normally, you can’t get within 50 feet of [wild turkeys,]” he said, crumbling a loaf of Italian bread into a wooded yard for the mysterious birds, who failed to show.

These turkeys, according to Scheible, have grown so accustomed and desensitized to the neighborhood that they will often get remarkably close to an outstretched handful of snacks.

It is unclear whether or not the turkeys that Scheible sees are the same ones spotted by James and Butch, but Scheible confirmed that one of them indeed has “a bum leg.”

The turkeys’ friendly nature may be attributed to the offerings extended by one resident in particular, an older woman who regularly leaves them food to gobble in her backyard.

“I guess [that] lady feeds them, and they’ve been coming back ever since,” he said, adding that the birds will often sit perched on her car and backyard fence.

But feeding them is a bad idea, said Dunster. He warned that the handouts from residents are luring the birds out of their natural habitat – and into unfamiliar situations. If they continue to prowl the neighborhood, they will be exposed to a number of dangerous urban situations – most notably, traffic.

“They should just leave them alone,” he said. “It would be best if people didn’t feed them.”

An extensive field investigation by a team of Pitt News reporters failed to locate the turkeys. They remain, as of press time, unavailable for comment.