With Thanksgiving less than a week away, turkeys should be lying low — even wild ones, not farm-fattened birds raised for the dinner table.

But the flock I watched trotting through the woods the other day acted as if they owned the place. Only one deigned to cast its beady eyes my way, as if to say, “Outa my way, pal.”

Though they had attitude, these were relatively well-mannered birds, compared to the thugs from New Jersey. According to published reports, turkeys have been terrorizing Toms River Township — chasing and trying to bite people, pecking on windows and blocking traffic.

It got so bad that Major League baseball player Todd Frazier, a Toms River resident, urged the governor to take action, tweeting, “They have come close to harming my family and friends, ruined my cars, trashed my yard and much more.”

This from a guy who batted .213 for the Mets. I can’t imagine David Ortiz whining about birds in his yard.

Anyway, earlier this week, wildlife authorities in the Garden State began trapping and relocating the troublesome birds.

I suppose if Chris Christie were still governor, he’d probably order them set free late Friday afternoon on busy highways outside cities where the mayors refused to endorse him, but his successor, Phil Murphy, appears to be taking a more reasonable approach, having the birds released in state forests.

New Jersey, like so many states, including Connecticut, is experiencing a wild turkey population explosion resulting from efforts to bring back a bird once threatened with extinction.

Back in colonial times, the woods were thick with gobblers — Ben Franklin famously favored the wild turkey over the bald eagle as the national bird — but their numbers steadily declined because of over-hunting and habitat loss. By the 1800s, wild turkeys had all but disappeared throughout the Northeast.

In 1977, 22 wild turkeys were trapped and released in New Jersey; today there are 20,000-23,000 birds in the state.

Meanwhile, Connecticut launched its own turkey restoration program in 1975. During the next 17 years, state wildlife officials released more than 350 birds at 18 locations throughout the state, and today, there are wild turkeys in all 169 Connecticut towns and cities.

Turkeys are fairly quiet this time of year, but during the spring mating season, they’re worse than construction workers outside a Miss America pageant.

A few years ago, one lonely tom started gobbling every morning about 4 o’clock, only a few feet from our bedroom window. It was amusing at first, but after three or four weeks, I decided I either needed to buy earplugs or place a matchmaking ad in Audubon.

Eventually, he either got lucky or flew away. Maybe to New Jersey.

Still, I’m always delighted to see turkeys, whether foraging for acorns deep in the forest, scurrying along sidewalks in suburban neighborhoods or roosting in trees. Turkeys can tear along at 25 mph on foot or 35 mph in the air — no small feat, considering an adult male can measure four feet long and weigh up to 25 pounds.

I’d feel a little bit better, though, if hunting weren’t a main motive for having resurrected them.

Classified as game birds, wild turkeys are targets for bullets and arrows in various seasons. From now through the end of the year, they can legally be hunted in Connecticut with guns on private lands, and with bows and arrows in state lands designated for bowhunting.

So, watch your back and wear international orange when you go for a hike now.

Also, steer clear of any hot-tempered birds that may have migrated here from New Jersey.