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The Life and Death of A Turkey
A Spider’s Point of View
By Suzon Walton
CN Publisher
I can’t help it that I was born a spider. Yes, that black eight-legged furry creature that makes humans run and hide. I don’t know why people fear me, but so far the few friends I have made are animals (fowl) destined to die. That web I spun was not well placed, because the only living thing I caught tore down my web with a flick of his wing. “Happy Thanksgiving” the sign across the road reads…I know what it really means. Death to turkeys, because Halloween is over and the little chubby kids finished their treats. Hello Turkey leftovers, because the carnage that will ensue tonight will become the feast of my fearful humans tomorrow…Turkey Day.
I was just born a few hours ago, but already the flying insects fear me as much as these lanky, tall two-legged creatures (humans). I have bonded with the turkey next to me. I call him Hank. Everybody mocks my nickname for Hank, since he is widely known as Thomas the Turkey, XIII, or TT13. He, too, is a freak of nature with only two legs. I think he’s been working out, ‘cause he has some meaty thighs!
We live in a barn, myself in a shady corner. Thousands of my brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles flew out the window when the barn door was left open. I was lucky, cause I got caught under the pit of Hank. His knocking over my hood was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, lasting at least 24 hours, or until Hank has to go for dinner.
He is not smart bird. After all, most fowls are known
for their bird brains. Hank is no exception. But you
have to love him. His wattle that hangs down matches
the spot on my back. I could hide out in his plumage
if I hadn’t heard the farmer talk about “TT13’s last
day here on earth.” Apparently all of Hank’s family
are free range except the big ‘ol Toms themselves. This
pudgy poultry scraps for food daily, leaving not a speck
for anyone. He doesn’t know what’s going to hit him.
The rest of the story...is not pretty. Did I mention
that most birds are dumb as rocks, but Hank’s cousin
Fred knew how to get around the chopping block. He met
a fate so wonderful, a song had to be written about
it! Sing along at www.llerrah.com/lifeasaturkey.htm.
FRED - HIS LIFE AS A TURKEY
When I was a young turkey, new to the coop,
My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop;
Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow,
And he told me there was something that I had to know.
His look and his tone I will always remember,
When he told me of the horrors of ... Black November;
"Come about August, now listen to me,
Each day you'll get six meals instead of just three."
"And soon you'll be thick, where once you were thin,
and you'll grow a big rubbery thing under you chin;
And then one morning, when you're warm in you bed,
In will burst the farmer's wife, and hack off your head."
For more information, contact Suzon Walton at
Suzon@ConnectedNow.com
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