Even Turkeys Make Gratitude Lists
Get the good word from the big bird!
Thanksgiving Scoop from POOP — Procrastinators Organic Original Publications exclusive:
Thanksgiving’s upon us.
Get your gratitude on. If you’ve been slacking off all year, we’re onto you! We’ve got your number. Been there, done that.
But thankfully, it’s never too late to start a gratitude list. Don’t even think of it as late. Think of it as early for next year. But still, don’t wait. Get started now.
If you’re struggling for what to put on your list, take a tip from our turkey friends. This is the time of year when they should have far bigger fish to fry, right?
But nonetheless, when we at POOP sent an investigative reporter into their quarters, we made a fascinating discovery. Turkeys actually have gratitude lists. Or at least these ones did.
When we explained our mission, they took pity on you clueless ones and gave us permission to share some of their nuggets to prime your gratitude pumps. So if these unfortunate fowl can find what to be thankful for on the eve of, well you can imagine, perhaps the rest of us can too.
So in their own words, translated from Gobble into English, here goes:
We have a roof over our heads.
Yes, friends out there in cyberspace where it never rains, we have a roof over our heads. Yes, it’s kinda porous, cause it’s made out of chicken wire, but things could be a whole lot worse.
They could have named the damned stuff turkey wire.
Be that as it may, we can see the sky, 24/7. That means we can see the stars at night. The moon in all its phases, including lunar eclipses, which, unlike solar eclipses, you can look at with your naked eye.
Since the roof is see-through, we don’t even have to get up out of bed like you poor people do. All we have to do is open our eyes and crane our turkey necks to the heavens. Hallelujah!
We’re well fed.
Now you might think we’d be envious of those free-ranging wild turkeys you may see in your neighborhood park, or even on your lawn, nibbling your prized begonias.
But no, actually. They are such skinny birds. They have to hunt and peck for every damn morsel. And while there are lots of popcorn and bread crumbs for our lowly cousin pigeons, no self-respecting turkey would be caught dead at an old man’s feet begging for crumbs. No sirree, Bob, whoever he was.
Whereas, yours truelies have it made in the shade. We get fed five times a day. Lots of corn and soy, fiber, phytonutrients. Our people do their homework. Spare no pennies to keep us healthy. No preservatives, chemicals, or nasty hormones, no GMO for us! See how unselfish they are! Just call us fat and sassy. Check out the above pic! And the one below:
We have a bourbon named after us.
Not everyone can make that claim.
Yes, of course, there’s the Dirty Bird, the Screaming Eagle, and the Kicking Chicken. But those are all subsidiary to Wild Turkey. But that’s our likeness on the side of that thar barn!
Okay, okay, you can argue we’re not wild, but at least, we’re that bird.
And so well-mannered we don’t scream or kick. Though we must say Kicking Chicken has a nice ring to it. Next time one of them wanders into our pen-house (one letter away from penthouse, mind you!) we’ll give her a swift kick and send her back to the hen house.
Not to mention the fact that one of our brand spokesmen is Matthew McConaughey. Or at least was as of 2016. Hope he still is. He’s one cool dude. And if he runs for Texas gov, he has our votes.
Not only that, Wild Turkey is so popular, it’s mentioned by name in tons of films, including National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, Thelma & Louise, Monster’s Ball, and, Dead Man Walking. What an honor — I think. I hope!
We’re grateful Thanksgiving only comes once a year!
We only have to worry about ending up on your dinner table once a year. Right about now, in fact.
Oh, okay, we’ll admit, if we breeze through November unscathed, Christmas still looms menacingly over our heads like Swords of Damocles.
But at least it’s not that day-in-day-out gut-wrenching fear that chills the blood our poor chicken friends live with every hour, every minute, every second of their lousy little lives.
However, one thing they have going for them that we don’t is, you like their eggs.
What would it take for you to like our eggs?
To delight in whipping up a turkey egg cheese omelet with pork bacon for a special brunch on a cold wintery Sunday? You and your sweetie making momentous moments together, perhaps accompanied by a splash of Wild T. in your pumpkin latte — for seasonal ambiance.
And you can see by that photo how many fewer eggs you would need. One of mine feeds a family of four compared to that wee one of Henny Penny.
Think about it. And while you’re at it, please sign my petition. Let’s get this party started.
In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving — I think!