Boy, am I ever glad that Thanksgiving Day is over and done!

For weeks now, I worried for my very life.  I mean, every time I heard the words "Thanksgiving", "turkey", "basted", or "Cajun-style roasted turkey", it about got my wattles tied up in knots!

I had to hide in every place that I could think of: in a dense forest, behind garbage cans, in empty buildings during the middle of the night (I mean places that weren't open 24 hours a day), even in in a doghouse (or two, just as long as Rover was inside at the time!).  It was really bad!  

If turkeys had high blood pressure, I know mine was up.  Way up, almost to stroke category!  It's a wonder I didn't suffer a nervous breakdown, trying to cope with the stress I (and my fellow turkeys) were feeling around Halloween (and the stress of worriment only got worse as the weeks slid closer and closer to Thanksgiving)!

The week before Thanksgiving is always the worst time for us turkeys. That means by now most grocery stores have run out of supplies of turkey; that means that hunters are out for blood.  Turkey blood.  They will stop at nothing to kill us and let their families know that there will be the promised turkey for their Thanksgiving dinner!

Barbarians!!

Savages!!

I was sweating bullets every time I even attempted to go outside my comfort of the farm I live at.  I was sure I would soon be surrounded by friends and cranberries if one of those human hunters got a hold of my scrawny, wrinkly neck (and probably would end up chopping my head clean off my body)!  No doubt, I would probably end up in the pot ... and, ultimately, in some savage human's gullet!

What makes the situation even worse is this: after one of my fellow turkeys is caught, cooked, and then eaten, the stupid moronic human will be smiling and wiping his mouth!  

Just thinking of that is enough to send me (and my fellow turkey brother (or sister) hood into convulsions!!

Gad!!

I don't know how I did it, but I survived Thanksgiving.  The reason why I did?  I hid in the storm cellar, which is around the corner from the farmhouse where the humans live; they didn't even think of looking in there because severe storm season is over with and done for another year (or at least I am hoping it is ...)!

Smart thinking, Tony Turkey, smart thinking on your part!  Now I can have the last laugh because I am an official survivor of the deadliest holiday known to us turkeys: Thanksgiving Day!  Now I know the real reason for being thankful because the dadburned humans didn't even bother to look for me in the storm cellar and get a hold of my neck, let alone, cooking me up!

Yet I can't be too joyful:  quite a few of my turkey buddies ended up in the great turkey haven in the sky, where I am sure they are being serenaded by hot, sexy turkey hens and eating all the corn and turkey treats they can find!  I mourn their loss with every fiber of my feathered being, and it is because of their murders that I have learned to loathe the holiday called Thanksgiving Day even more!