It’s the day before Thanksgiving. All the plump turkeys were dreading this Thanksgiving year, myself the worst. I was the biggest turkey on the farm! I had a plan to survive the holiday. I was going to become a guinea! Yes, it would be tough lowering myself to that level, but in desperate times we turkeys take desperate measures!
First, I would have to find a costume. The barn just might have what I’m looking for. Not too long ago, the farmer painted the shed gray. What luck! I found the paint, but it wouldn’t open. I was pecking and pecking, but still, I could not penetrate the hard, shiny surface. Suddenly a thought came to my large brain; he used a tool! What did it look like? A stick, oh, that might work. Taking it in my beak, I smashed the stick in the can, and pop went the lid. Flapping my wings, I knocked the can over. Then I took a gray birdbath. Now that I was gray, I went to move in with the guineas.
Upon seeing them, I made that siren noise as best as I could. About ten heads came up instantly. They answered with a high-pitched screech that I took to be a hello. Running in the pack, they stared in shock at me. One asked me, “What in the world happened to your tail?” I was thinking hard over this, but then a grasshopper jumped past. Onsight, they all ran after it, too busy to remember we were talking. So I just followed them in chase of the grasshopper until we lost it. Retiring to the guinea coop, all I had to do was hang out with them until tomorrow night. In the morning, we ran out once again to search for grasshoppers. There was the farmer heading my way. He was searching out the poor turkey for this year. Trying to blend in with the guineas, I lay flat on the ground, but he came with food in hand. Maybe it was safe; maybe he had already picked his bird. I crept up to take some food when suddenly he grabbed me. Oh no, I’ve been caught. Fighting the best I could, I still couldn’t lose his grip. He started up the hill as I was thinking over all the good times I’ve had this year. Suddenly the lady of the house yelled, “Hon, we don’t need that bird. The Smiths invited us over for Thanksgiving.”