While cosmetic surgeons specialize in removing those annoying wrinkly folds under their patients’ chins, similar folds, called wattles, are a signature piece that some birds wouldn’t want to do without.

Turkeys pretty much set the standard for wattles. Red wattles, hanging from a male’s neck, are bright, beautiful – and a hen magnet.

A male is polygamous, mating with several hens in its territory. That means a lot of energy spent on spring strutting: puffing out its feathers, dragging its wing tips on the ground, spreading out its tail and tucking its head against its body.

There will be a lot of pacing back and forth, hissing and fights between males that can get ugly because of the sharp, bony spurs on the backs of their legs.

The snood comes in handy when a male turkey wants to really turn on the charm. It’s a fleshy flap at the base of the bill that dangles down over the beak. The longer the snood, the better. People who study these sorts of things report that female turkeys go wild over toms with long snoods.

The wattles turn redder when Tom is smitten, and his naked bluish-gray face turns brighter hues as the hormones get revved up. As its head and neck get redder, the snood becomes swollen with blood and the head color can change to blue or purple or white, with white indicating the most sexual excitement.

Eventually the tipping point is reached, mating occurs, and the male continues on his way with no obligation for nest selection, egg protection or chick raising.

Male turkeys, related to grouse, pheasants, chickens and quail, are 2 to 3 feet tall, stretch out 3 to 4 feet, and average 16 pounds, sometimes running to 25 pounds in the wild.

The wild turkey is sleeker and much more alert than the domesticated variety (an 86-pounder is in the Guinness Book of Records). Its more streamlined body is built for speed (runs up to 18 mph) in order to survive.

Wild ones can see movement nearly 300 feet away, hide well and fly up to 50 mph, although usually not for long distances and not higher than tree tops.

Vocalizations change from season to season, but include clucks, purrs, yelps, cackles, whistles, kee-kees, putts, cutts and gobbles (males only). In the spring, the tom’s gobbling gives his location to nearby hens and announces that he is ready to breed.

A few turkeys have been photographed swimming, although it may more accurately be described as floating and steering since they don’t have webbed feet. And they’ve had a dance named after them – the turkey trot – for the short, jerky steps that they take.

Most of Washington’s turkeys are found east of the Cascades. They’ll eat vegetable matter, but supplement it with insects. During the fall and winter, fruits, seeds and nuts are on the menu. They may cover several miles a day looking for food, working as a flock. At night, the flock roosts in trees.

In the fall, flocks are generally a mixture of hens and their young. Pairs and trios of old toms are on their own. In early winter, new flocks are formed according to age and sex: old toms, young toms and hens.

In 1900, wild turkeys had been shot and carved up in numbers that threatened the species’ existence. Only an estimated 30,000 were left in the U.S. before state agencies took over and breeding programs created a 21st-century population estimated at 7 million.

So worry not about wild gobblers, especially since the turkey on your table Thursday will have come off the farm.

Columnist Sharon Wootton can be reached at 360-468-3964 or www.songandword.com.