by Cyn Lee

Created on: November 11, 2009   Last Updated: November 21, 2011

As a young poult, I believed being born a turkey was a fabulous privilege.   We are beautiful birds, spoiled by man. The food we eat is always abundant and served to us by paid servants.   On most days, everything I eat is organic and top choice.  As a prize turkey,  I don't have to clean up after myself, we have  paid servants who clean my area.  I strut around  my show cage loving the way youadmire me.  People come from all over to see how beautiful we turkeys are.  Unlike humans, the fatter our legs- the more we are loved.  Our bootae  as you call the rear, has no bearing in a turkey's society.  Only fat legs and huge breast matter. 

 Back on  the turkey farm,  everyone could hear the compliments.   " Look at that bird," an older woman says with excitement as she glances at me " He's so big he's perfect,"  she says to the woman standing by her side.  Another guy informs all who are listening he has a love of dark meat.   I shimmy by him for one last tease, as he ogles my legs.

I've heard compliments all fall long.  "Wow, look at the legs, and the breast is massive,"  they all seem to say,  " Yes it is,"  I think to myself as I strut over to the next line of admirers.  It felt great to see all the people who come to see us.  To be chosen  the best of the best was a feeling I will never forget.  I knew there had to be a great reward for being the best.  

Within days before Thanksgiving, many of us turkeys began to disappear.  Tom was the first.   He was the largest of all of us. So naturally he would be chosen first.   He was humongous. This was due to his being a brute who pecked all the food.  Claude was the next.  And now they seem to be coming for me. 

It wouldn't have been so bad if I had not seen what was happening to Tom and Claude.  I saw them lying on a table being plucked bald. They were not moving.   I looked throughout the room  and noticed most of my fellow turkeys were now bald.   Many had their heads cut off and their necks and other vitals shoved into a large rear whole.

I started to panic.  " Is this what Thanksgiving is all about?"   Once beautiful turkeys with fantastic feathers and happy faces, are now headless and bald?  And to make it worse,  we are being sold to those we thought were admiring us?  If I had known, I would have stayed skinny like Irma.   Irma diets everyday.  She never eats, yet has seen three Thanksgivings without being picked.  We fatty's laughed at her skinny legs and sunken chest.  Wait til she get a load of us all bald and headless.

If I had known this was my reward for being the best turkey,  I would have avoided building firm thighs and an impressive breast.   As I neared my balding fate, for which I can do nothing about, I can only be grateful I am not a pumpkin.  They are hollowed out with knives.  Eyes, nose and mouth are sliced and torn from their heads.  In most cases, pumpkin's are forced to sit on porches with a toothless smile until they fill with maggots.  As for me, with each feather  they plucked  I can only hope I end up dry in taste and that I am purchased by a person educated enough to know how unsanitary it is to shove seasoned bread up my rear.

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