by Mark Hurley

Created on: November 12, 2009

Another Thanksgiving rolling around and I did not want any part of this celebration. I have heard all those horrible stories that have been handed down, since those people came across the ocean with those guns. It was not so bad before that, a lot of my aunts, uncles, and other family were spared, because of the ability to dodge those arrows. Anyway here I am stuck in a wire pen, my wings clipped , and no escape possible. I have been doing a lot of laps around the pen though trying to lose some weight, so I do not look so inviting to the grinning, eager faces, that will be peering through the wire squares. Pointing and laughing, making jokes about how delicious we will be on the table tomorrow. It sends chills up my spine, to think of being in an oven for five hours or in one of those new fangled fryers. I guess if you got to go that would be the way to go, at least it would be quicker. Brrrr another thirty laps around the pen and then when all the people gather and start the picking out process I will fall over as if I am sick.

Uh-oh I thought as I heard the gate squeak open and people started rushing in to get tomorrows dinner. I was only on lap five and was not about to stand still long enough for them to get a look at me. Huff, puff come on people I want an audience when I do that famous dying scene and I am going to kick and wallow on the ground, too. The other turkeys, that did not get picked, will be giving me an Oscar tomorrow and we will all have a good laugh about it.

All of a sudden the crowed turned away from us turkeys and started waving and shouting, smiling, and rushing toward the gate, I was dying, pardon the pun, to see who was coming, that would take all the attention away from us. The crowd was too huge and the fence too low to get a good jump, I guess I would have to just wait, if they are at a turkey farm the day before thanksgiving, they are there for tomorrows dinner. Just then the crowd parted and two little girls, with huge smiles on their faces, and a man and woman behind, plus a crowd of professional or business-like men, at least they looked that way to me with the suits and sunglasses and all, came straight toward the pen. Both girls pointed at me all at once and I stopped dead in my tracks, no falling over, no famous final scene, no wallowing, I was scared to death, no Oscar tomorrow. This was really the famous final scene.

"Okay, girls," the man said, as everyone was quiet, "are you sure that is the one you want to pick". "Yes daddy," they said in unison, as they clapped their hands and I was thinking oven or deep fry, I did not have a choice. "Then it is done," the tall man said, and smiled at his wife. "This is the luckiest turkey of the year, he gets the presidential pardon for the rest of his life, never to sit on a table or be eaten."

The crowd cheered and waved,as the group of people went back to their huge black cars and left. I still do not know who it was or why I was picked, but I do know the true meaning of Thanksgiving. No more running all I have to do is eat corn and sleep all day. Happy thanksgiving forever for me.

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